A fleeting gift

Life goes by quickly, like a locomotive passing through the night that does not stop under any circumstances. Not even for death, which is part of Life itself.

On the last day of our passage through this world, nobody will present us with a medal, like when you complete a marathon. When we are no longer here, we will have been those women and men we once loved, the values we transmitted to our children and the friends we were fortunate enough to open our heart to one day. Little more.

Waiting for the pedestrian lights to turn green on the other side of the street, I see how most people walk, laugh, shout, judge, cry, sigh and in short, behave, as though they were going to live eternally, without the awareness that Life is a fleeting gift.

Sometimes you have to sit down in a quiet corner to silently, unhurriedly observe everything that goes on inside us and around us. And keep ourselves upright, whatever happens, so as not to be crushed by the maelstrom of superficiality and bad taste that a few heartless people have successfully managed to impose on much of society. 

Most of us have fallen into the overproduction trap, with the obvious risk of coming to detest what we once loved if we continue down this path. It is worth thinking about this and taking measures to salvage the creativity and passion now, while there is still time.  

At my children’s school there are several cases of 5-year-old girls and boys with anxiety problems. How can that be possible? It is imperative that we engage, in order to face the answer to this question with maturity; this is the only way we will be able to put an end to this madness.

Life is beautiful: the trees and the birds, the sea and the sun, the gaze of children, the hands of grandparents, music, books, travel, kisses. 

There will come a day, when we are no longer here and our path continues in some other dimension of the Universe, when we will no longer be able to enjoy all of these little things – the most important ones, the simplest ones, the unique things. 

Being aware of the miracle that is being alive is an opportunity we should not disdain, now, whilst everything is still possible. That is the best homage we can pay to ourselves. And the best example for the youngsters who, with their still-uncertain gait, look for their place in the world, just as we once did.  

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