Dreamers, at a point in our life everyone was one, but how difficult is it to remember it when we are constantly engaged in pursuing daily goals? The commitments, the work …
Tiredness and laziness, they tend to drag us into an endless cycle of everyday life that drains us, day after day we grow old, without memory or time for our dreams.
Since childhood, the stories of the adventurers, in their beauty, have excited me. Explorers, navigators and warriors, unapproachable figures that made me dream and travel through black ink on a page, I went around the world, without leaving my room… I never thought that one day I could do, in my little, my own adventures. I do not consider myself an adventurer, much less a traveler, anyway, year after year I find myself here, sitting in my studio reading exotic maps written in black and white, imagining expeditions on the Amazon or the Antarctic, year after year I find myself here, sitting in my studio dreaming…
But the call of adventure is a hungry beast, only those who hear it growl can understand, it is a call that’s always there, usually submerged by the everyday life, but promptly returns, it surprises you “wasting” your life and laughs at you, how miserably you are busy in your nothings. The call judges you, from the height of the seat on which you put it, fueled by the years of dreams, dreams and aspirations that have given to it much, too much importance and power. Adventure becomes a reason for life, becomes your destination, becomes your lover and mistress…
If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more?
I always had the aspiration of being able, one day, to tell an interesting story to my children, that i do not have, or to grandchildren. Those who told me about their adventures during my youth, gave me a gift of immeasurable value, a gift that changed my life, that improved me as a person and taught me how to dream. For this reason, even when I returned from the first of my adventures, talking with friends, I realized how these stories appeal to people and awaken their ideas and the desire to dream. Stories of fatigue, fear, emotions that itch people’s imaginations, makes them think, tear smiles, sometimes envies and critiques, however, they create emotions and I am convinced that there is no negative side to it.
Happiness is real only when shared
Deciding to share my stories with a bigger audience was a difficult process, at the beginning telling the story itself was the problem, I was afraid of exploiting my dreams to make myself attractive in the eyes of people, a doubt that was a stain on the purity of the adventure itself, it was unforgivable. For a long time the imposing struggle between the desire to share, to bring back something to the people and the fear derived from the vain pleasure of the same, has been lacerating. But not sharing is also egoism, it is denying those who inspired me, it would be like accusing them of vanity instead of thanking them. For this reason, I decided to leave my doubts aside and try to share these stories of mine in the best way possible, with the aim of inspiring future dreamers and awakening those who are asleep.
Your life is your story. Write well. Edit often
Here I am, after winning over my fears about the purity of sharing, after accepting the fact that writing badly is better than not writing at all (provided that the story deserves to be told), now I have nothing left but to focus on my adventures, spin the globe and start fantasizing about inaccessible territories, never seen creatures and man-eating tribes!
Setting this blog of mine as if it was a book, goes to recall those very writings from which I drew my dreams in youth, mine of course can only be a pale copy, each adventure is a chapter, all linked by this invisible thread, that call to adventure that makes us suffer so much, that fills our days and that gives the hope of a life worthy of being told, remotely comparable to the lives of those who have made us dream since childhood.
Now I can go back to my planning, to organizing the next chapters of this book, to add pieces to the story with which I will bore children and grandchildren during my old age.