It's raining. It's cold and nothing makes me want to put my running shoes on and get out. I decide go anyway and while I'm putting on a windbreaker, the zipper breaks. Here's another clear signal telling me to leave it, maybe tomorrow it's going to be sunny and I won't need this useless jacket. 

However today I am not going to listen to any signal, today I feel that I do not need any advice. After five minutes of running I'm dripping wet, the legs don't seem to move and the heart does not race. Usually in these cases I ask myself questions: Is it worth it? Is that a workout that makes sense? And then, based on what I feel, I try to make the best decision. I don't feel bad, I don't resist what I simply am. I relax. 

Not every day things go as we expect, our plans, programs. People's expectations. The same people that half the time don't understand absolutely anything about you. As you do with them. And our expectations... Are they enough? Should I do it this way? The doubts, the half-answers. They over-fill the mind without our permission. And that's where the friction manifests itself. Like when you were a kid trying to get dressed to go to school and you didn't want to know about it, you wanted to stay unclothed. You were wiggling in those stupid clothes you didn't feel they belonged to you. 

And then, as I run forward with my legs I step back into myself. I look at things for what they are, or at least for what I think they are. The way I perceive them. There are steps on the gravel, the drops on the face that glide sweetly on the green leaves that surround me. The moist air filling my lungs, which I now perceive not as something separate. The thin membrane that separates you, me, the rest of the world. For a moment it doesn't count for anything, because I feel only movement. I generate chaos, but I hear everything in order. Thoughts return, who knows what I'll be when I'm gone? I mean, when I'm no longer alive. I get a little emotional about these human thoughts. How fragile I am, how strong I am. How I feel naked in front of myself, today that I am still alive.

alessandra quattordio