Time nature returns. It is a spiral where there is the "fabula" human . From birth to death of an individual, beginning at the end of an era, from the decay of a civilization to flourish. The wire spiral is of dense interweaving of many strands of history and stories .
will soon once again Christmas and the birth of a child will coincide with the closing of an annual cycle. As if to mark the continuity of the wire, the beginning in the end. Continuity and contiguity. But it's not equality. continuity, contiguity and metamorphosis unison. Metamorphosis in the born again.
Christmas winter. When the cold weather freezes the ground, which was stripped of her dress with flowers and leaves, it's Christmas. It is a shoot that smiles while the earth is gathered in silence under the snow. It is a budding flower which defies the cold hearts.
It's Christmas in the tumultuous city, Grotte luminescent and noisy. On the streets paved with asphalt or paving stones pass ancient humanity! Between the evaporating wet glare of lights color absorbs the smells of the crowd that swarms anxious. It would be a desire
holographic Christmas wish in a charming grotto, among the shepherds of a lost Arcadia.
Christmas is here, between "homes added to the case", for "the roads that lead into streets "of paesoni and cities. There is the silence in the din and compassion!
You can not escape to somewhere else artificial. L 'elsewhere in the metamorphosis is marked by the emergence, between the year to be concluded and what begins.
This morning I ate the jam prepared for me by a friend known this year thanks to the communication on the Net A special jam which she called "the cornerstone". It's a real composed of various fruits, those that are damaged in our senseless opulence, discarded and used all'immondezzaio. It is a delicious jam. They eat every day until Christmas. It is also a symbol of the fruits jam this year! draws to a close. The most delicious is the friend who gave me the jam.
time necessary to return the greetings with the wishes of metamorphosis. So
transcribe below a note I wrote early last year. These words are hoping fruits of friendship, which I gladly tasted this year. Yes
time back, but nothing is ever as before! It is always better than before, if we want very much!
The stories will save the world
When I was a teenager wrote the diary. I like to remember in silence to commemorate the events of the past day, reviewing the state of mind that I had crossed. Unknowingly I cultivated the habit of introspection and attention to the fact that I was grounded. I dwell on their faces that they had searched, heard, to which I gave or denied the smile, captured the emotions of the meetings. The thickened pages of words that gave body to the experience and expectations. I liked the look better word. In the research holds out in an effort to understand myself and the world around them.
The memory of that my teenage habit was sparked by a radio interview with Duccio Demetrio, which has long been concerned with biographical and autobiographical writing (see Duccio Demetrio, Raccontarsi's autobiography as self-care, Raffaello Cortina 1996).
Lecturer at the University of Milano-Bicocca, Duccio Demetrio in 1998, along with Xavier Tutino, the inventor of the Archives of Pieve Santo Stefano diary, he also founded the Free University of Autobiography of Anghiari, not far from mystical "raw rock" of the Verna.
During the interview I listened to the student, using the meditations that have produced his last work (Duccio Demetrio, Asceticism metropolitan , thanks to the Bridge 2009), responded to questions about the possibility of a "Assisi Underground", ie an exercise in attention to reality in the modern city comparable to an "overcrowded desert."
The argument seemed full of good wishes for the future. I thought so to write the suggestions that I came.
It began the new year. It is a boundary between a year and another decade. You may bear in themselves the stirrings of a new era in which people cease to be those "of the sling and stone, those of the time in which" the brother said the other brother: "Let's go."
Perhaps a clue to this new era can be read in the desire to communicate in the "network" is one example. The same flow of information and the infinite possibilities of contacts shrink from taking any power and entrust the freedom human destiny with the choices of individuals.
Finally the progress of reason could not be separated dall'ingentilirsi of the heart. Born a new breed. All activities of man will abstain, pious, from any violent action will focus on the nature and make life worth living brothers.
then no longer "the branches of willows, to vote" will "hang" the "harps" of poets.
COUNTLESS NEW storytellers will delight our cities, by modulating the stories of a new civilization. New reciters "cuciranno" stories into an epic and endless boundaries.
each individual will be responsible for this "New time", if it becomes a storyteller GENTILE, exploring his heart by learning to know or to recognize himself and to tell, first of all to itself, its history. Of this need to become aware of the narrative is necessary.
But the word that expresses a story embodied in silence born of a 'rise ".
"Ascent" is derived from the greek word "Aske" "I army." L '"asceticism" is that attention to bodily exercise which aims to understand the other, the stranger, the foreigner that each item in itself. The desire to tell
coincides with the need to know in recollection di un'osservazione attenta e pietosa, amorevole ma veritiera.
Coloro che sanno raccontarsi sono in grado di comporre un microcosmo in una storia, rivivendo, nella loro arte, l'infinita gamma dei sentimenti umani. Diventando narratori di se stessi si diventa anche narratori delle vite degli altri, perché la narrazione autentica sgorga dalla COMPASSIONE.
Il silenzio in “ascesi” è esercizio di “compassione”. La “compassione” è un sentimento elevato. È il tratto essenziale dell'essere umano. In fondo ad ogni arte degli uomini esiste la “compassione”, ossia quella capacità di essere in sintonia con la complessità dell'io che riconosce in sé la complessità the world and understands it.
The "compassion" extends his hand to another, and does not exclude anyone.
The "compassion" was the inspiring breath of a great explorer of the human heart, F. Dostoevsky. And he has to collect and submit the final call. I make my own the words of the gentle Alyosha, the youngest of the brothers Karamazov, the novel's epilogue:
"here, let's go hand in hand ...".
will soon once again Christmas and the birth of a child will coincide with the closing of an annual cycle. As if to mark the continuity of the wire, the beginning in the end. Continuity and contiguity. But it's not equality. continuity, contiguity and metamorphosis unison. Metamorphosis in the born again.
Christmas winter. When the cold weather freezes the ground, which was stripped of her dress with flowers and leaves, it's Christmas. It is a shoot that smiles while the earth is gathered in silence under the snow. It is a budding flower which defies the cold hearts.
It's Christmas in the tumultuous city, Grotte luminescent and noisy. On the streets paved with asphalt or paving stones pass ancient humanity! Between the evaporating wet glare of lights color absorbs the smells of the crowd that swarms anxious. It would be a desire
holographic Christmas wish in a charming grotto, among the shepherds of a lost Arcadia.
Christmas is here, between "homes added to the case", for "the roads that lead into streets "of paesoni and cities. There is the silence in the din and compassion!
You can not escape to somewhere else artificial. L 'elsewhere in the metamorphosis is marked by the emergence, between the year to be concluded and what begins.
This morning I ate the jam prepared for me by a friend known this year thanks to the communication on the Net A special jam which she called "the cornerstone". It's a real composed of various fruits, those that are damaged in our senseless opulence, discarded and used all'immondezzaio. It is a delicious jam. They eat every day until Christmas. It is also a symbol of the fruits jam this year! draws to a close. The most delicious is the friend who gave me the jam.
time necessary to return the greetings with the wishes of metamorphosis. So
transcribe below a note I wrote early last year. These words are hoping fruits of friendship, which I gladly tasted this year. Yes
time back, but nothing is ever as before! It is always better than before, if we want very much!
The stories will save the world
When I was a teenager wrote the diary. I like to remember in silence to commemorate the events of the past day, reviewing the state of mind that I had crossed. Unknowingly I cultivated the habit of introspection and attention to the fact that I was grounded. I dwell on their faces that they had searched, heard, to which I gave or denied the smile, captured the emotions of the meetings. The thickened pages of words that gave body to the experience and expectations. I liked the look better word. In the research holds out in an effort to understand myself and the world around them.
The memory of that my teenage habit was sparked by a radio interview with Duccio Demetrio, which has long been concerned with biographical and autobiographical writing (see Duccio Demetrio, Raccontarsi's autobiography as self-care, Raffaello Cortina 1996).
Lecturer at the University of Milano-Bicocca, Duccio Demetrio in 1998, along with Xavier Tutino, the inventor of the Archives of Pieve Santo Stefano diary, he also founded the Free University of Autobiography of Anghiari, not far from mystical "raw rock" of the Verna.
During the interview I listened to the student, using the meditations that have produced his last work (Duccio Demetrio, Asceticism metropolitan , thanks to the Bridge 2009), responded to questions about the possibility of a "Assisi Underground", ie an exercise in attention to reality in the modern city comparable to an "overcrowded desert."
The argument seemed full of good wishes for the future. I thought so to write the suggestions that I came.
It began the new year. It is a boundary between a year and another decade. You may bear in themselves the stirrings of a new era in which people cease to be those "of the sling and stone, those of the time in which" the brother said the other brother: "Let's go."
Perhaps a clue to this new era can be read in the desire to communicate in the "network" is one example. The same flow of information and the infinite possibilities of contacts shrink from taking any power and entrust the freedom human destiny with the choices of individuals.
Finally the progress of reason could not be separated dall'ingentilirsi of the heart. Born a new breed. All activities of man will abstain, pious, from any violent action will focus on the nature and make life worth living brothers.
then no longer "the branches of willows, to vote" will "hang" the "harps" of poets.
COUNTLESS NEW storytellers will delight our cities, by modulating the stories of a new civilization. New reciters "cuciranno" stories into an epic and endless boundaries.
each individual will be responsible for this "New time", if it becomes a storyteller GENTILE, exploring his heart by learning to know or to recognize himself and to tell, first of all to itself, its history. Of this need to become aware of the narrative is necessary.
But the word that expresses a story embodied in silence born of a 'rise ".
"Ascent" is derived from the greek word "Aske" "I army." L '"asceticism" is that attention to bodily exercise which aims to understand the other, the stranger, the foreigner that each item in itself. The desire to tell
coincides with the need to know in recollection di un'osservazione attenta e pietosa, amorevole ma veritiera.
Coloro che sanno raccontarsi sono in grado di comporre un microcosmo in una storia, rivivendo, nella loro arte, l'infinita gamma dei sentimenti umani. Diventando narratori di se stessi si diventa anche narratori delle vite degli altri, perché la narrazione autentica sgorga dalla COMPASSIONE.
Il silenzio in “ascesi” è esercizio di “compassione”. La “compassione” è un sentimento elevato. È il tratto essenziale dell'essere umano. In fondo ad ogni arte degli uomini esiste la “compassione”, ossia quella capacità di essere in sintonia con la complessità dell'io che riconosce in sé la complessità the world and understands it.
The "compassion" extends his hand to another, and does not exclude anyone.
The "compassion" was the inspiring breath of a great explorer of the human heart, F. Dostoevsky. And he has to collect and submit the final call. I make my own the words of the gentle Alyosha, the youngest of the brothers Karamazov, the novel's epilogue:
"here, let's go hand in hand ...".
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