When I heard about Elvis Presley’s death, I stood at the steps of a hotel in Milano Marittima, Italy. I had just stepped out on my way to pick up the Bildzeitung* -the worst of all German newspapers- but also the only newspaper Germans were able to get with a three-day delay, when they enjoyed their summer vacation in Italy.
I want to tell you this story about the two brothers—small boys—one of them a confirmed pessimist, and the other a thoroughly “blooming optimist.”
The father of these boys had tried in every way possible to equalize the natures of the boys, but with no success at all. So, when Christmas time came around he was very careful to purchase for the pessimistic one everything in the line of toys and outfits that he had at any time expressed a wish for. In the stocking of the optimistic youngster, he put only a dried out horse-apple.
The first time I visited Rome the Capital City of Italy, only 6 hours away from our farm in South Tyrol, I felt at home. I had never been there before, but had walked the streets of Rome for many hours in my mind at school, when we learned all about the Roman Empire. I had wept for the innocent and poor who were tortured, or were just a human toy in the brutal games the rich invented to entertain themselves and the masses.
The episode of “A Million little things” two weeks ago, shows a black gathering with family and friends. There is laughter, people pick at each other, the way we all do when we have a good time. A young teenage boy joins them, his face is earnest. When asked what is going on, he turns his phone around, and shows the rest of he people a video he just saw online.
“As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional suffering are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth. Today, I know, this is “AUTHENTICITY”.
As I began to love myself I understood how much it can offend somebody if I try to force my desires on this person, even though I knew the time was not right and the person was not ready for it, and even though this person was me. Today I call it “RESPECT”.
Imagine somewhere out of space and time, a room full of all the people you loved in your lifetime. Childhood friends and lovers, family, partners and spouses. Perhaps some would be surprised to find themselves in your room, because you never told them how you felt.
In this room full of people you love, would you be there too?
Not sure what happened the other night, but in the morning, when my feet hit the floor, I knew it wouldn’t be a good day. The sun was too bright, the wake-up music too loud. The dogs were on my nerves, even though they didn’t do anything else than greeting me like every day. The house was a mess, my hair had grown 3 inches overnight and my t-shirt felt wrong.