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Riga, 2

again in Riga airport still, fourteen days later. This is
a station very busy lately in my trans-European transhumance.
This time I changed my coffee, comfy sofas this is just perfect for waiting for the ferry to Venice in a couple of hours.
I always large windows in front of me, but no tears in the rain, are dry and so much light enters. During the flight from Tallinn
I addocchiato the map in the booklet Airbaltic .. I watched 10 times, during my travels, but every time I discover something new. I had never noticed, for example, that Kazakhstan was so large and I did not even half an idea of \u200b\u200bwhere he was Astana, the capital. Maps on my traveler always be met with imagination and curiosity, it was worth a child, this is now. I remember very well my first world map, with the light that shone from within. I was tossing and turning, I had already noticed how small it was Italy and how much space there was around Venus. Even the map of
Airbaltic .. a flash .. Lake Baikal .. a vivid memory resurfaces, the voice of the teacher Angela that reads "spring on Baikal", third or fourth grade. I liked so much that moment, his sweet tone and expressive, close my eyes and imagine far away places. The lake, forest, taiga and tundra, the sky of the great north. Who knows, I was wondering how they will be ...
and I'm in, environments and emotions are now daily So just what are distant and fascinating. Today, when I go biking along the lake Männiku, I seem to be in a place I've ever known, perhaps because I imagined as a child, I dreamed while the teacher read. The lake is my Männiku Baikal, where the spring is the ice that melts the clouds and shows the fields, where the winds blow and the rippling water surface, where the conifers that surround the green and welcome back the birds and the their song.
What was far today is near.
What's sake, we ask Vinicio Capossela .. "Overseas is a place that is away just before arriving." Still the sea, still sailing, still our raft.
Far and near, near and far.
As a child, when the geographic references were the village church, the pharmacy and the school, I was wondering which way I should turn, when out of the house, to reach the Baikal. Was already going away from his grandmother, 20 km. It was firm to go biking, Qualle time with dad on a Saturday afternoon, 8 or 9 years.
Today I see far away places. The faraway places do not exist, as there are languages \u200b\u200bdifficult. The need
makes things near and far. Or perhaps, the real gauge "adult" to measure distances, are the feelings. And 'what we are closely related, regardless of the distance. E 'distant not what we are familiar, what makes us insecure.
I'm learning every day, what a great feeling to break down and push.
already knew the ancient navigators, who in the dark of night, in the midst of the sea, we were driving and found solace in the stars, so distant and reassuring.

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progettoestone: Controvento

progettoestone: Controvento
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCm3I3qahkQ&feature=related

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Controvento

E 'April is the month of winds. These mysterious entities that govern the climate, that fan to move the clouds, that cleanse the sky the sun and release from prison of the heaps. Invisible, shifting, favorable or unfavorable.
Saturday morning on the way to Muraste, riding on my bike I had it in their face. Big wheel, plugged, about six miles straight uphill and gusts to 60km / h against.
Going upwind is a skill that is acquired over the years, with the experience. It means accepting that consistently results in an invisible entity that you are doing. The wind can not be seen but there is, human nature and tries to behave as if this force was not there. But to be accepted.
Cycling at the beginning, the wind is an enemy. You suffer a lot, you do not know to handle it. When is it not thanks to, when it is against the curse. We can not seem to advance, but it is only because we do not accept that there is. We do not accept that something, mostly without a face, we put between ourselves and the way to go. The wind irritates, disturbs, brakes, unbalanced. We remember only when he is not.
Once you understand that the forces are also invisible to the wind becomes an actor in the comedy, not an enemy. It is no surprise then to what it is gratifying to play together, how much strength we have inside, how it is possible to live with a smile. Advanced
serene and accepting. Accept that there are delays, having to accept more of the planned effort, accept any gust that sends us off course, ready to return to direction.
Like a tree we must adapt. What is hard is broken, the malleable and takes the form most suitable resist and reinvent.
It's all part of the subtle balance between the inside and the outside that must be continually balanced.
But to accept and adapt to be a very clear goal to be achieved, so that efforts are not exhausted, and the wind does not dissolve them.
Follow the light, the only thing that the wind can not move.

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Riga, March 17 22:52

Airport desert, a piece of music from lounge bar in the background, the atmosphere of a room that is closing. Outside it rains, the drops slide in large windows overlooking the runway. I eat something, your eye falls on the ticket, the number 444 of the day. Even number, will be a sign to me favorably.

Between now I have a plane that will take me for the fifth time in Tallinn. Landing there is a feeling I know well, now familiar, the usual.

Raindrops keep falling, thin, and form small circles when they collide with the black puddles on the asphalt. It 's so everywhere, at all latitudes. Nature follows the same rules in every corner of the planet.

I started reading "The Road to Santiago", still Coelho. A author up to one year ago I could not bear, visionary and surreal it is. But it is thanks to him that I started to observe the signs of nature with different eyes. Every drop in the puddle is part of a larger picture, the insignificant element that completes the set in a decisive way.

My rationalist conception has finally found its limit, it is consumed in essence and in the uncertainty of precise answers too, without poetry.

Now I see poetry everywhere.

The drop of rain in the puddle, in a broken foot, in the eyes of a stranger. And when you open the drawer of the whole poem becomes infinite.

Two sentences in the first pages of the "path" I was shocked, impressed.

In the first meeting fully the concepts that I wrote here a month ago.

" E 'safest boat in the harbor, but that's not why the boats were built."

open sea, look at the world with curiosity.

The second is the closest thing there is the thought of Ivan terminating our video '09. "

The extraordinary lies in the path of common people."

seem the antithesis of the two sentences, but they are not. Navigate to understand that there is next to the extraordinary and not before. Each new port is a step, every wave instrument, every storm a try. We already have everything we could dream, in fact.

Yeah, now I realize.

Now I understand because of the turmoil and suffering.

Now, looking to nature to recognize the signs and poetry, I see that the disordered dots of my life, when combined make an attractive drawing. And I feel so much warmth next to me, a light that illuminates my sail. I do not need bush or correspondence, look at the light, I know it's there for me.

And I feel back to Tallinn, for the fifth time has a whole new flavor. Finally, why do not you have a loss. Finally, if I look back, I can say that every choice has been more than fair. Many instinctive, but we instinctively know which way you save.

It all seemed pointless, until the sense I have not appeared before, suddenly.

Kapelmuur, before and after.

Still riding at the ferries of the River. Under the direction of a flood in a Saturday shift of Easter in streets full of mud and stones. With effect from the heart to remind me that is greater than the body, which often fails to contain it.

Even further back, one day in late August, the encounter with my guardian angel whose name is Fabrizio and teaches me every day to be generous and simple. Again, thanks to the bicycle, without which today would not write these words.

I look back I see a long way done, so much sweat in the sun-drenched rose of summer efforts at times unbearable. And I see the meetings that travels through time in the saddle I have changed. I see Ivan, I see Christian, I see Mark, see Fabrizio. I see Andrea. Each meeting brought there to give a stroke to the picture, waiting for the frame.

I turn back and see a prestigious job but sterile, and the decision to fly along the Baltic.

The desire to share the day through a blog that chronicles gradually became more internal than external news.

I turn back and see the weekend in which my certainties have reached a minimum, in the cold sunny Stockholm, with two real friends. But you bounce from the lows, I have learned from the finance, that before money is psychology, fear and euphoria.

And when Coelho has taught me that each departure as a destination point other than the destination, I discovered that my greatest treasure I was waiting for me very close, in a known place.

So joining all the dots, all the meetings, all decisions, all sufferings, all the roads .. design becomes clear.

And lights my sail.

Such is clear that a sense, made in this blog. So made that I think about continuing or not continuing to write. It looks like a closed circle. It seems so perfect, nothing more.

But perhaps the most beautiful, now that the light is there and clearly shows the way, will still be written.

It is with this spirit, with this new optimism, with this renewed strength to continue.

in blog and navigation, no compass and no chart.