The Presumptuous Dreamer
It is not yet a year since I started this blog, and reading my home page, I realized how much everything has changed. What I wrote six months ago is solidly past. Covid is still here, but it has changed too. It was a terrifying monster that overturned my life to the point that I have learnt to live with it. My plans and ambitions that were so rock-hard now fill all spaces like a liquid, which is not altogether negative. I still want to tell stories. I still want to be a bridge between the two cultures and the two languages that inhabit me. So my destination is the same, but the path is different:
Entering the park, confined by a footpath running along the fence wall on the right and a hedge of bushes and trees on the left, lays a meadow. The green climbs and then wholly disappears when it reaches the Pine Forest. The shade of centuries-old pine trees does not let the grass grow further. At one step from the hedge, another path created by feet and paws looking for a shortcut going up and down the slope looks like a line intentionally drawn parallel to the two vertical borders to interrupt the perfect rectangle of green.
A routine born from repeated action makes me always go up by the well-trodden path by the wall, then on my way back, I take the natural line made by busy humans and animals. One afternoon I was standing at the top under the pines, on my way down, and while looking at the green waves the wind painted moving the grass, I wondered why I had never crossed the meadow diagonally or zigzagging. You can walk on the lawns. There and everywhere else in the park. People are all around on the green, walking, playing, picnicking, and working out. So why was it so unsettling for me to think about changing my direction? I was scared! How silly! It was only a walk in the grass, a new track. In sunlight, no obstacles, no impairment, so? My heart started running when I put my first foot in the grass; it disappeared and was invisible from the ankle down. Then came the second, and tracing, in my mind, the diagonal path that would lead me to the main gate, I put one foot in front of the other surprised to see them emerge safely from the green sea. I was aware of the ridiculousness of having to call on courage to walk on a green field. I couldn’t see where I put my feet and didn’t know what I was stepping on. An exploration? What excessive feelings. My body was over-reacting and didn’t understand what was requested. My mind had lost the stakes.
That’s what I live when I make an essential change.
It is a difficult challenge, quite often impossible, but I must learn to make change part of my life since this world travels so fast and has decided to surprise me much more than I expected or imagined possible. Looking back to the past two years, first, we had a medieval-like pandemic, now a war in Europe. It seems like 1900 wants to last longer than a century. Furthermore, we can’t forget that the planet has been attempting to shake us off, as a dog does with fleas.
2000 we have imagined will come! But when?
A change of mindset is what I can do to open up to the future, even if I’m sure it won’t be easy and I’ll make many mistakes. They say letting go of the past is healthy, but everything except technology has stayed still for a long time.
I plan to walk every day in overgrown grass and see what happens. I hope you will come with me.
© Photo copyright Patrizia Verrecchia. All rights reserved.
Nov 6, 2022
The level of anxiety was growing foolishly, and it took me some time to convince my brain and then my body that this time we were there only to see a Nutritionist. Hello, can I help you? the nurse greeted me with a smile Yes, 16.30, Doctor A. I remember thinking...
Jul 27, 2022
Waste Here in Italy, news on paper or TV is scaring us with apocalyptic predictions for next Autumn. No Russian Gas to heat our homes, water rationing, skyrocketing fuel prices, and our economy is going back decades. As I live in Rome, how can I not add to this...
Jul 12, 2022
Rome, in love forever I can't remember one time in my life when I was not in love with Rome. When we left Rome to immigrate to the U.K., I was five and begged my parents more than once to keep their promise: they had ensured we would return to Rome in five...
Jul 5, 2022
I hate men by Pauline Harmange Suppose one day you start thinking that the heterosexual couple exists only to provide a housekeeper for men, and you keep asking yourself why women think they can’t live without a man. If that’s the case, I hate men by Pauline Harmange...
Jun 28, 2022
Déjà vu This morning while I had my daily walk along the main road of my neighbourhood, a young lady in her twenties walked by me in the other direction. She captured my attention for more than one reason. She had a beautiful smile, the kind of smile that comes from...
Jun 21, 2022
Summer Reads August 2021 I just wanted to lie down on the sofa and watch tv. I binge-watched some tv-series I had missed in the past years. I felt lazy, unhappy maybe a bit depressed after coping for the last year and a half with all that had changed in my life, and...
May 17, 2022
Teaching Adults The first meeting with a student is always decisive for how our teacher-student relationship will proceed. Getting it wrong means wasting a lot of time getting it right, and sometimes it never gets right. When I started teaching, I had only experienced...
May 7, 2022
A silent lesson When I want to explain the cultural differences between England and Italy, I tell two anecdotes I personally experienced. It was December 2004, and my husband and I were in London for a weekend. Our hotel was on the opposite banks of the River Thames...
Apr 14, 2022
Sfritt'. My recipe from the family I learned this recipe simply spending time, the days before Easter, in the kitchen with my family. My grandmothers, my aunts and my mother all cooked the Sfritt’ in a slightly different way, adding or taking out some ingredients. I...