by Sergio Restelli

Time is too short to waste on defunct relationships that have reached the end of their life cycle. There are ties that have left deep marks in our lives but then, for some reason, have run out. It’s nobody’s fault, they just shut down, and now they’re dragging themselves around tired waiting for someone to pull the plug on them.

Closing the circles that have remained open is an act of great respect for both parties involved, for what we have given each other, for what we have been together and for what we will be separated. Granting euthanasia to ties that vegetate and slowly consume themselves is a manifestation of courage and an immense gesture of love. Time is too short even for all sick relationships, those who confuse obsession with love, who clip their wings instead of helping them to melt, who instead of granting breath, pursue possession, symbiosis and isolation.

For all relationships that contemplate manipulation, intimidation and physical and verbal violence, which imprison and claim to shape the object of one’s desire, because love yes, but only after paying the pledge. Time is too little for serial waste throwers and energy leeches. We are not dustbins where they can pour all their rubbish, life is too short to take away even the poetry.

It must be said softly but firmly and if they continue undeterred on their way then show them the door. Stem off vampires who disrespect your time, and next time you meet one, offer yourself a bloodless neck. Because a vampire is such as long as he has a prey to suck, if the prey vanishes it evaporates at the first hint of light.

They rip off all outdated, useless and unhealthy relationships before they do any further damage. Wash with a sponge all the harmful “friendships” that end up in our house by mistake, carelessness or simple superficiality. We clean all our apartments, our clothes and our cars but we forget to put our lives in order. A good pruning of dry branches will eliminate those who do not deserve to be part of our existence from our existence and will help us to restore the right priorities. And if the dry branch really cannot be cut, then do as the alchemists do: transform lead into gold.

Try to understand if there was a small margin on which to work, if there is a way to dampen the negativity, and direct attention towards brighter points. Try to find out if in the middle of the dark there is a small flame on which to blow, so that it can gain strength and light up the night. But if it weren’t there, throw in the towel without any fear, because every soul has its own karmic path to complete and you can throw light, but never interfere, never force your hand. Let go of what needs to go and learn from it the necessary lessons.

Remembering that nothing happens by chance, that every person you meet is a mirror, every pain an opportunity for growth, every crisis a breaking point from which to be reborn to new life. Change inside, if you want to change outside. Then you will enjoy the fruits of the new world that you have helped to generate. The most precious gift.

If done meticulously and regularly, spring cleaning will create a surplus of time ready to be donated. The first person to benefit from it will have to be the one who has paid the price for too long an unjust and inconsiderate time allocation: ourselves. Apologizing and making up for all the lack of attention is the first dutiful step in the slow process of freeing ourselves from our status as slaves of time. But the healing is not finished yet, so that the recovery can be said to be complete, a further step will be needed. The one that leads from the center to the outside.

After nurturing ourselves, we will finally be able to nurture others. Medicine, it’s called time and will have no side effects, except an unhealthy and contagious happiness. When you cut dead branches, you make room for healthy branches. With more air, water and humus available, healthy branches will finally have the chance they’ve been waiting for, to grow vigorously, come out of the shadows and show themselves to the world in all their splendor. It is to them that the time that has been managed to snatch from life is destined. It is to them that all our attention should be paid.

You will give your time to important people, those who have managed to dig a place of honor in their lives. To all those people who love themselves as themselves, perhaps even more, and who, by virtue of a temporary blindness, have ended up being neglected. Now the blindness has been cured, now the eyes will finally be able to see again, they will never lose sight of it again. To the people who deserve our time, who earned it without ever asking. The humble, sincere and transparent ones, who donate before asking, listen before speaking, knock softly before entering.

To the people who make them better. Those that offer you new ideas, allowing you to broaden your horizons, those capable of speaking “loud” and probing the mysteries of life. Those attentive to the invisible, the impalpable, the unsaid hidden between syllables.

To the people who welcome you as you are. Who do not force, but respect our times, even if they don’t agree with theirs. Those who know how to stay close without speaking, who hover in the heart even when they are far away. Who do not judge us and offer us a refuge even when we lose our way, especially when we lose our way.

To the people who instead of sucking our energy give it to us with both hands. That instead of beating their tongues on the misery of man and of life, they exalt its beauty and remind us of it every time we lose hope along the way. To those who still know how to play and plan to read about existence without losing essence. To those who make us laugh and dance, who know our silly and childish part and don’t get tired of giving it a voice. To those who encourage us, who know our skills and honor them, who celebrate our successes and don’t skimp on unnecessary compliments, those who gush sincerely. To those who know that words without gestures are worthless, but gestures without words are cold and heartless acts.

To the invisible people, the ones we’ve always seen but never noticed, the ones we didn’t pay attention to, the ones we passed by without stopping. To those we still don’t know and that will change our lives, that will cross our path as fast and disruptive as meteors, enough time to shake us, to give us the caress we dreamed of, the point of view we were missing, the word we didn’t we waited.

To people waiting for a miracle to give them hope again, to those who are waiting for nothing but a shooting star to cross their path and turn their lives upside down. To those we’ve never heard. Those who have stories like novels to tell, wounds like chasms to heal, walls to break down, hearts to unfreeze.