THE PLACE OF MY HEART
(one more reason, the choice to move from the sea to the mountains)It is not really a mountains, but still a high place, the one who stole my heart, now years ago, little more than a teenager.
I had seen him the first time as a child, maybe nine years,
together with my brother.
It was August, and you couldn't see an inch from your nose,
so much was the fog.
And for me, who had only glimpsed fog on a trip to Milan… it
was a point in her favor.
It was mysterious, magical, with a sparkling air. I felt
something spiritual, and although small, I was drunk. At that time I knew
nothing of the history that impregnated him, of the mysticism that connected
him to the Christ of the Amiata, Davide Lazzaretti, a controversial and
fascinating character who founded a community there (18 ...), where women and
men lived in symbiosis with the work and religion, practically equal to each
other, as it had never happened up to those times and beyond ...
The place was M. Labbro, barren gray stone, with a remote
ocean floor, dry meadows in every season, from yellow to brown and nothing
else.
Place suitable for donkeys or goats, impervious and
inhospitable at first glance, but then welcoming and warm for the spirit, as
strong as it is windy and cold, even in the height of summer…
The sunrises and sunsets of this place can push you to
tears, like an ancient mantra, which melts your mind. Pure and clear elements,
with clear lines, lead to inner catharsis, even if of purification and
pacification, you have never understood absolutely anything.
Getting there by walking at the end of the day can lead to
the resolution of a thousand unfortunate problems, including physical and not
just mental. No, I'm not exaggerating. For me this pyramidal peak, it induces
me to calm down, it resolves my migraines, it pushes me to live better the
following day.
Anyone like me who appreciates this small mountain will
understand.
Therefore, I invite those who do not know, to try the ascent
to the small church, hidden in the crevice of the rock, to walk in the dark,
the slippery corridor that leads to the gaunt altar ...
Therefore, I invite those who do not know, to try the ascent
to the small church, hidden in the crevice of the rock, to walk in the dark,
the slippery corridor that leads to the gaunt altar ...
and after breathing in the damp smell of ancient candles,
step back and continue in silence, towards the top, where a simple iron cross
centers an infinite space, without horizons ...
And there is no god, if you do not want to seek him, but only yourself and your soul.