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.
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