I am nearly half way through and the emotional rollercoaster that is the greatest show on Earth doesn’t seem to slow down: in fact, I don’t want it to slow down at all, I am eager to see what else is in store.
A quick wander around amongst thousands of people queuing religiously for the very British ritual of a pint accompanied by fish and chips, and I just cannot wait to see what the stadium looks like inside. So I head to the gate printed on my ticket, grab a quick sandwich and head off to the entrance.
Following the expected trail of sensationalism, hype and grandeur that has kept us entertained (not to mention bombarded) for the past seven months or so, the long-awaited moment has finally come: it is the morning of Friday 27th July and, in a matter of just hours, London is going to host the opening ceremony of the 30th Olympic Games. The greatest show on Earth.
Five letters, many connotations.
A word created to picture the momentum preceding the energy outburst.
I am a rebel.
Indeed I am. All my life I have been.
Seeing, feeling, living, breathing through someone else’s sense.
An uncontainable force now taking over existence: twisting, swinging, bending, breaking all the rules.
A violent battle, an endless wrestle.
Determination is the key.
A crack in the wall, a space that’s conquered, a voice that must not
be ignored, denied, unheard.
Or is it? Sometimes drama can indeed hit with such a strength and rapidity, one can’t help but wonder whether life is some sort of theatrical play where the line between reality and illusion becomes increasingly blurred. Well, for me this is one of those times when you have to pinch yourself twice in the morning just to realise that, as mad as it looks, I’m not living in the Truman Show!
So what does life actually mean? Many people would describe it as a succession of highs and lows; slowly ascending and rapidly descending, just like on a roller coaster. I, on the other hand, have always thought of it as a series of intertwined circles, and, likewise, I see existence as a perennial circular movement whose trail defines any immanent or transcendental occurrence. Although this pattern may feel repetitive and unpredictable to us, there is always a constant process of growth and development active in the background which leads up to a change when it reaches completion.
Generally, change is not something many people welcome with an open heart and mind, hence the reason why the words change and crisis are frequently (and erroneously!) used as synonyms. Nevertheless, the reason why change sows so much confusion and disarrangement in our lives is purely due to our unawareness. Due to choice or simply to reasons beyond our control
While we often cannot influence the ways in which the change happens, I believe we can decide what we actually want to make of the change itself. The problem with today’s world is that we feel we are always compelled to hold the reins of events; being constantly in control of the situation. Where did this all begin? I won’t dwell on this too much as there would be more than just one answer; however, only recently I have realised how dangerous this habit can be. We build our routine on such solid foundations, it is almost like our life was led by an autopilot. We forget to step back, close our eyes, then open them again to really see how existence is composed by so many elements and factors there are virtually no limits to what we can make of it.
The same theory can be applied to change which is so destabilising as it challenges the very core of our autopilot mode. Change need not to be a daunting experience: it is simply a different perspective, a new filter waking us up from the haze of unawareness to reignite our amazement and wonder towards the world. Lately, for example, I found so enriching and inspiring just observing the way rain drops hit the ground, or observing how clouds make up and dissolve in the sky.
It is in those moment where I step back and let go that I feel, paradoxically, much more in control than when I frantically try to match existence to the ideal I have in my brain.
Once you hold this key, the power is simply immense and the real meaning of creativity is disclosed and understood.
I finally watched the last two Desperate Housewives episodes ever, and let me tell you: it was as heart wrenching as waving goodbye to your lover forever. I never thought I would confess it publicly, but at the respectable age of 28 I was in a flood of tears by the end of the episode.
Saturday, 19 May 2012 – 07:30 AM
It’s a beautiful day in the town of Brindisi, Puglia.
It’s Saturday. Just a few more hours and the weekend would finally be here. This is what the first students of the Morvillo-Falcone public high school must have thought while arriving on site for yet another day of classes. Just a few minutes later something happes, something unexpected and terrible.
Three bombs explode in sequence in front of a school: a 16 year-old girl, Melissa Bassi, dies, her life and dreams brutally destroyed in a space of few instants, while countless other students are rushing to the local hospital with severe injures.
What was going to be a normal day of classes and pre-weekend celebration, it is now an unreal crime scene defined by the sight of blood and students’ diaries and papers scattered on the ground, blowing in the feeble May breeze.
A town, a region, a nation: nothing is going to the be same ever again. And after such an atrocity, there’s only one question resounding loud in the air: WHY?