Life I love going to the beach when the weather is bad.
E 'bad for everyone, or for many, but not for me: the nature of the ties of melts and always manifests itself and explodes in its beauty, the same way as they explode with the colors of spring, things are different and yet beautiful likewise, for me.
The wind blows strong, slams the rigging of the boats that have reinforced the dock, I hear the chains rattling and clinking metal, I feel my lungs fill with air and life and feel the spray of salt water wet my face and I'm happy inside.
man I enjoy the mountains of the sea, because the nature, space, is one, is where you find him alive!
Today I did the same and went towards the end of the pier, gazing at the gray clouds that were running under other than gray sky again, doing to provide water when they pass close to the many boats moored in the sheltered water of the harbor, suddenly, a man with the robe that was tying it all better, the wall, hit my eye. Senior enough to have lived a life, but young in the bearing and aura that I sensed in the green sponge that covered it. He placed the bag of trash on the ground, had slippers, bed, house, chamber ... He close the circle, not to be half naked, as the wind picked up the bag and we all know and the thousands who flock to the so-called " geeks" (not those of the classroom, but those that have a bit flavors' different ...) and took him precisely " ecological island" as hypocritical, today, the port of my city, is called the place where you dump the waste!
was as if he left the house, like my neighbor who puts the bag in the morning at the door to take him away, later, when it comes down and goes to work, but it was the harbor, near a pier, not in a condominium. We were close to boats of various kinds and large, but with their dignity and their own history, one by one.
I am intrigued and I went closer and he e. .. thing years ago I would never have done, I start a conversation.
I was sincerely intrigued but also attracted by the fact that I guessed he had slept in the boat, but not overnight, but as his normal life, and I hoped as I approached, I was hoping it was someone who had broken the chains that we nailed the normality, was one that somehow had done something different.
approach a bit 'shy and respectful and then he started to tell, seemed waiting for this moment, or maybe someone can tell where his victory, his successful escape.
A life lived in a traditional way, full of all joys and sorrows, as to each, and then the gesture , dictated by various circumstances, but thought for centuries, perhaps always dreamed of.
now lives there in a boat, not like Sonny Crockett in Miami Vice the TV, in a boat and rich with the Ferrari parked next to the berth, but in a boat than a dozen feet, but not sailing Joint sailing and motor, comfortable enough to live a bit ', but certainly strange to live forever, at least in the opinion of one who is there, like me.
Yet he is there, always, there lived his life, writes books, kitchen and we have fun, he has built his world and is proud and happy.
It does not need a bathtub-style villa in Beverly Hills, or the 50-inch plasma TV, or more than 4 feet of the kitchen to make banquet for 20 people, as in a restaurant, what needs the asks his life, space and freedom, of living space, albeit limited in my eyes, yet untouched and untouchable, needs less of those things that I believe are essential and those he has, if it is made and built, but he has a world built to measure her and there is fine. He lives!
He made a step, and did so with fear and risk, now enjoys the consequences and the rewards courage and it is not must be the courage to do titanic struggles, the real titanic struggles are those against our fears, the hidden within ourselves, what we often ignore and delete turning to look elsewhere.
This man did not use many words to show his life, he just said "Here, look!" To me that I had asked, and then left me to do whatever I must, with what he says to me gave generously.
Leaving me to come back to life when fear intrusions by neighbors, that I live in small cells as many atypical human bees of a hive, and leaving me to my reflections.
He returned to live his life, to enjoy its space and his time, quietly, without fanfare, but in silence, the silence that I had stopped, perhaps nicely.
questions and left me an example.
