Moment of respite

You shouldn't turn here, but there was no other way to break away from the crowd for at least a five-minute break and give your eyes a rest with a bit of green grass and plants.
You walked straight ahead; the buildings all around were shades of gray. You couldn’t see anyone behind or in front of you, as if this whole space were suddenly meant just for you—this time, this moment. Suddenly, you felt as if this were it— that’s exactly how you feel freedom—that’s exactly how you feel and experience true silence and relief, as if hope had suddenly come to life right at that moment—from the complete dim into an incredible abyss that transports your thoughts to a completely different world and reality—something very close and familiar to you, but only beginning to take shape for a while—just for a moment—just a few times in your life, you’ve felt this thing that you couldn’t quite put into words, but you knew exactly what it was, and despite the immense weight emanating from the buildings and the vastness of the city and the people all around you in that space, you were completely free. That moment of respite—that was it. Suddenly, someone started talking to you; who it was, you don’t know—you didn’t see them, you only heard a voice, as if coming straight from you, from that space—both known and unknown—and also from this new one just coming into being. That voice seemed to have been waiting for you right there, in that passageway across from the hotel in the city center called Mestre; out of the sort of silence of the gray walls, that voice appeared That voice was familiar to you; it aroused neither fear nor uncertainty—as if you had been waiting for it for a long time, but it had never appeared before. 

You finally understood that this voice had always been there, everywhere, but the space in which you found yourself did not possess the same composition of particles and energy that could construct it and give it new life so that it could function—that was precisely the moment, the instant in which this entire journey—both the journey of your life and this travel into the unknown—suddenly took on immense significance for the future of your new will life. You no longer needed anything—that voice and those words were enough, the only ones you were meant to hear. You heard exactly what you needed to hear—nothing more, nothing too much, nothing too little. It was enough for you. After hearing those words—perhaps not immediately—the burden vanished; perhaps even that moment and that instant seemed to you like a huge challenge, not understanding at all what you were doing there or why you were putting up with it all—but that voice, which had already freed you from everything and everyone—that was the most important thing: to continue, to move forward, to stop wandering off course with others, to completely reclaim yourself and your space for your own life and existence—and it no longer mattered that it was right here in Mestre at the bus stop—or, to be precise, a few meters from the bus stop. In 20 minutes, your bus will leave; you’ll walk a few meters past the hotels, glance at their interiors and the people inside, at their modern spaces designed so that everyone would have a truly delightful stay, and the moment of waiting would become a pleasure rather than a torment—even though it wasn’t what you experienced—your wait, however, had a purpose; it had a hidden meaning

Somehow, everything knew—everywhere and always—that this moment couldn’t have come sooner for you, and that this place, this journey, and this corner that appeared on your path out of nowhere, and that moment when the desire to hide was stronger than your lack of strength—suddenly, in that space, all your strength seemed to return naturally and work within you as if time didn’t exist, as if nothing had existed before or had ever been necessary, as if nothing were a burden to you anymore, as if the past were now nothing but emptiness, no longer dwelling within you or in any cell of your body, as if only what was good and light remained within you and everything else had already vanished, as if you had made room for this next journey, for this perhaps even better part of life. You were supposed to stay at the café, but you felt you had to leave them. No one bothered you anymore; none of their behavior or anything uncomfortable was a problem for you anymore, but you needed a break from the commotion. Even though your body had no strength left, you entered that space and completely rebuilt yourself. It was no longer that life hadn’t allowed you to do anything until then—it was true, regained freedom, perhaps even greater, and that voice that confirmed it to you—a voice that heard you, didn’t judge you; that voice knew how you felt and didn’t have to accuse you of anything or give you advice; that voice simply asked what no one ever asks—what you always ask and that no one ever thinks about—and suddenly, as you walk a few meters with that voice, you step into a completely new experience;

life for others is the same as life for you; this is a completely different journey, a completely different world—your new, longed-for life, whose foundation turned out to be one of the most challenging years of your life at any level.

It was harder and took longer than you ever wanted it to, but it was necessary precisely for that one moment—for those other, better moments; you knew that this was where the true transition to the reality of your being truly began, and that there was nothing left to fear or doubt—that right where you are, and when you walk and when you move, it’s simply all right to be and to experience it, without getting caught up in the whole thing—you are completely free through all your choices and dreams, and why did it seem at first that even this corner couldn’t be bypassed or entered—why was it so hidden from your awareness? Perhaps this corner was all you ever needed to enter your true state and set yourself free, or perhaps only there could the voice finally make contact with you. Perhaps it was because, throughout this entire journey, you showed patience and never gave up, no matter how hard, difficult, and unbearable everything was. Perhaps it was because the purification required more time than the entire transformation, which was already supposed to be complete—at least in this new phase of your life. The voice and the memory of this place have remained with you forever; such moments last longer, until the next ones appear in a few years, heralding yet another renewal of our physical and inner being