I always wanted to be elsewhere: a place was interesting until I wasn’t there, a situation was interesting until I hadn’t lived it for an instant.

Then the desire to be elsewhere reappeared and it was an urgency, a physical sensation I’ve always mistaken for hunger.

 

Movement was my place, but I didn’t know it yet.

 

Movement requires infinite spaces, it only uses borders as points of reference and words to find contacts; it has no meaning into direction – in moving towards something, but only in moving elsewhere, because it is only in its neither here nor there status, that he can exist. And only by knowing the here and there it can learn consciousness.

 

I don’t care where I’m going because I don’t think  there’s a destination to reach, nor a goal to pursue: I move so that my Sense can keep its balance.

I don’t care about the time I’ll need to reach the destination I’m moving toward to, neither I care if I’ll ever get there: all that will matter it will be me to be ready for the journey, ready to entirely rely on the destination, whatever it is, so that by revealing itself it will reveal me, beyond any expectations; to be ready to try to understand and, when I’ll think I got it, to try to understand better or understand more.

I won’t be able to go everywhere, but the infinite possibilities of exploration will give me full freedom to try to build my own world map, twin-faced mirror that showing the other will show me myself.

 

Giving me

to every mistake

the opportunity to leave again.

What can I believe? Whom should I believe?

 

What does it really matter? Or:  what does it count more?

 

Proclamations against disinterest and non-alignment, proclamations against stress.
Proclamations against world hunger and against obesity, against industrialization which produces CO2 and against wars that involve innocent people and force entire populations to underdevelopment. Proclamations against heavy rain that destroys everything and against the absence of rain destroying the harvests, against boundaries delimiting movements and against refugees who should stay beyond the boundary lines.
Million of news and little instruments to grasp them in order to be able to call ourselves informed or, at least, to be able not to feel stressed and confused.
Parts, parties, factions. They talk about the same reality as if it was divided into thousands different ones, unable to coexist.

 

Are we really forced to pick a side?

With technology or with nature, with progress or with social equity, with success or with happiness. Is it truly impossible to find a center of gravity, an observation point without obstacles on the gaze’s line, so that our choices could be inclusive of every aspects and not biased, partial and, hence, unsatisfying?

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The weathercock as a metaphor of how The Half Hermit looks at the world: trying to stay suspended rather than clinging to something.

The half hermit

  • He lives “with regard to” rather than “as a part of”, tries to stay suspended rather than clinging to something.

  • He believes that experience can only be individual, but that it is full only when shared.

  • He needs loneliness to be able to unwind and then looks for people to keep his balance.

  • He’s curious; he distinguishes in order to understand.

  • He fears not understandig more than fear.