...... the wild wolves go away. The spirit of the savage goes away. The breath of the wild goes away. Silent and endless forests go away. Everything, free and wild is going away. Time flows and the wild goes away. The light that illuminates the wild transcends. All that flows without time is going away. Perhaps the same memory osf the savage is going away. We are losing our true essence. We are migrating into the void of life and we are, little by little, quietly extinguishing ourselves. We are always poorer than the truth of the savage, we are always poorer than the same life, we are even poorer than the wolf's lurid. A distant and feeble melody wants to sing us the world of wilderness, but we are playing notes of infinite sadness, because we are portrayed before the absoluteness of the wild. Sing well or melody and wake up the dormant soul of our spirit that now no longer contemplates the world of nature. Goodbye, a proud and kind wolf, goodbye, proud and indomitable wolf, goodbye, wild lights of the spirit that, in dissolving, lead our hearts towards the gloomy obscurity and, melancholically, towards a dead-end road without any soul or hope. Forests look at us astonished as we search in vain for a world that is less and less wild, free from the truth of the wolf's howl. I cry strongly against all this, because I know that by losing the wild, losing the last frontier of nature also means losing life and leaving behind a world of infinite beauty and silent forests. No, I do not accept it! The savage must return and, if it can happen, we must at that point reacquire it and relive it in all its splendor. But now, in the face of this abyss, on the wolf's wailing we will be able to reflect for a long time and write many words and perhaps we will say many things, but our rhetoric will never bring us to the essential! And 'this is precisely what we lack: the essential and then we find ourselves suddenly alone. A solitude we wanted, strongly desired because we no longer have the hearing to hear the howl of the wolf. The howling of the wild ......!
* * *
A lake unfolded before the sight of the heart. A sense of life lay in the air, but in my mind something seemed to be missing, something profound that alienated me from the surrounding world. I was like a ghost moving in a beautiful atmosphere but almost unreal and opalescent to me.
I understood that it was not the environment that determined my deep intimacy, but my spirit, which everywhere wandered, brought with it something obscure and incomprehensible. I felt sadness, a sense of not belonging to anything, of being out of the real world even if so beautiful and unrepeatable.
I was devoid of inner life, I did not know anything, and everything seemed meaningless and not vital. I felt I loved death, but basically I did not want it because I had only one fear: to lose forever the possibility of being able to sink into the wild world.
The day, at the first light of the northern dawn, everything went on like this. I was empty, I did not recognize life with its strength and only sadness and melancholy seemed to manifest itself. My mind wandered between nothingness and total emptiness and nothing seemed to satisfy me. I was too sad and inwardly alone. Nothing stirred and energized me. It was pure non-life mental madness!
A pleasant walk in the forest alternating with lakes and swamps. But my spirit was elsewhere. I did not feel the breath of life even if the environment spread in abundance. I felt the lack of something essential in my soul. Why this mental madness? Maybe I did not know or maybe I was fully aware of it but I did not want to reveal it to myself. I felt the breath of my body but I continued to breathe non-life. An ugly and empty feeling. Not living while living is something hallucinating and indescribable.
I probably had inside me the secret of this sadness, of this incurable melancholy, but nothing seemed to shake and enliven me. I lived as an alien, as if I belonged to a world not mine in which I could not adapt. But I did not speak of a foreign world from the external point of view, but only and exclusively of an inner world.
Living life is beautiful, but you have to really live it and consume it. You do not have to die inside little by little and feel nothing. It is better to immediately sublimate yourself bodily, it is better to perish spiritually to cancel oneself in the emptiness of true and inalienable death. I have always loved you or life but unfortunately I did not live you yet.
Why did not I hear your breath or your heart button? I missed you. I missed you a lot, too much to continue living without experiencing you. I felt so much the unexpressed world of the savage.
The next day was a fatal day. Tension, irascondia, sadness, harshness. A strange light overshadowed my day. There was no possibility of harmony. Only sectarian and mean lies. The wind fed my anguish and nothing cheered me if not the thought turned to the possibility of connecting with the wildness of the soul. I felt a deep love and an ungraspable sense of loss. I knew that I could lose something beautiful forever, for eternity and this was for me fatal and unacceptable. I was looking for a mediation, a healthy madness, but I could find nothing but ashes and the worn remains of things.
I did not have the strength to react, to counteract and let things go so contrary to my true will. It was yet another sad, dense and gloomy day that finally turned me away for the umpteenth time from my true self. I felt madness, the sense of loss and nothing could comfort me, nothing, nothing. But oh inspiring nature, give me the strength to react, to rebuild my being, even a little at a time.
Be happy or my beloved wolves. That everything always smiles at you and that the evil man with his ax is a thousand miles away. I was happy for them, while my life was dying out! I did not dare to think of them, but at the same time they were inside me. It hurt too much not to be able to symbolically hold them in my arms because they were disappearing little by little. But I felt their occult presence and this relieved my sadness at least a little. I felt their scent, their breath, and I felt that their heart, unaware of everything, was beating with hope. The sudden tears streaked my face, the sadness expanded within me, and everything was lost in the nothingness of my void existence. Perhaps these were my last lines, but a strange feeling made me react and hope again. But I was equally pessimistic, I could not see anything around me that could give me the strength to react. I no longer belonged to anything, the emptiness around me. I was always absent, I did not listen to anything, and nothing seemed to be able to listen to me. Goodbye sad day, goodbye revolving world. I wanted so much to leave the scene, forever and with certainty.
A few days later the day still began with an anguish in my heart after a night full of nightmares and deep emotions. But perhaps it seemed to me that the fresh morning air could bring some comfort and "optimism". Will it be true? I would have checked it later.
The anguish in the evening, however, had the upper hand, because I had to do what I never wanted. Find me in front of a fork and have to choose which way to go. It was absolutely not the right time and perhaps it would never have been. I preferred to find alternate events, even uncomfortable but always on a single path to go. Instead, the case of my life seemed to reserve this serious ambassador for me. What a sorrow in the chest, deep inside. Loving tears ran through my face and drops of blood came out of my heart.
The next day was a day with alternating phases, but the sadness was still still mistress of me. A nice hike through the woods was not at all enough to lift me up at least a little.
I was now going along a path because even though reluctantly, it probably seemed that I had preferred it to another. How many beautiful things I knew to lose for eternity. It was certainly not a good feeling. It is true, probably no way leads to any part, but I bitterly suffered and burned ardently in my deep self. I knew that I was forever losing something "special", something unrepeatable, and yet it seemed that I was doing it and moreover my fault. I was in fact losing unity with nature, I was losing the wild spirit forever. But I realized that I should not have had to choose. What madness. This would have been the worst madness.
The light around me did not illuminate me in the slightest, but deepened within me, it grew more and more intense.
The anguish was still my mistress, but on the one hand I understood a little the meaning of my intolerances. After all, I deserved it because in my life my behavior had been too disharmonious with nature and the image I had given to other beings probably did not answer at all to my true essence. You can not always take things from life in their own way and according to their "domestic" needs. I had understood that if relationships with the world and with other beings were born it was necessary to activate a more universal and less selfish behavior.
One day I made another useful reflection. It is not possible to live life by projecting it only into the future. Always walk moved forward. Or doing things by pretending to forget others. It was useless because at every corner the anguish and the disappointments would always reappear. How much incurable sadness was still inside of me. How much distrust! I felt like a prince who had previously had a lot, but a lot of reveries, unexpressed relationships, continuous and rich thoughts; then suddenly the emptiness and here the prince finds himself poor and devoid of real things. I had become really poor. I had lost or maybe I was losing my dreams, the most beautiful things, the strongest feelings, my only truth: the wild side of oneself. I was probably furrowing the wrong path away from the wilderness of life.
The environment around me was strongly in unison with my ego, at least in appearance, but a constant unease gripped me and the disharmony made my heart melt. I could not control it and not make it belong to my spirit. I did not know how long my life would last, but in that way it was impossible to continue it. I could not do it. No, I could not do it.
Even that day had therefore begun in the blackest negativity!
One day I decided to reflect more on my state of being.
Finally I was perhaps reacting a bit 'positively to cross that tunnel of negativity that now seemed endless.
The light around me seemed a little clearer and a feeble optimism seemed to present itself to my heart. Perhaps a liberating dream had helped me and in those decisive moments I finally managed to glimpse something. Yes, actually on that day, maybe I was able to raise my spirit. I felt the return of truth and interests for things, at least in a small way. Surely it was the right moment to start changing course and taking the "master" way of nature. I would have seen the actual consequences in the following days. I was strongly hopeful. A certain help certainly came to me from the quiet existence of the places in which I moved even if at times everything seemed to me to be strongly foreign.
After the cautious optimism of a few days, anxiety returned to me probably because of the difficulties not yet overcome on the structure of my inner future. I still felt the wild life escape me and nothing appeared clear and restful. But I should not have rowed the boat because with a little perseverance and patience I could have done it. On the other hand it was almost normal that suffering belonged to me and I knew that if I wanted to build something new, I would never have to look back!
One day a crucial moment came. I found myself again in front of a path that suddenly changed course. Is it perhaps the right one and is not it really a question of the route?
I thought of my dreams of the wild and of lightness, and a wolf of the woods appeared before me like a vain phantom. I saw the features, the graceful features and at times lost his vision. Because?
The stars fell into the sky and my hidden desires multiplied in my mind. I listened to the silence while my suffering vestigies brought me company.
An emptiness spreads in the air and transmigrates among the souls of the eternal. I smell the will and I understand the freedom ......
When the moon appeared in the late sky it was an evening of remembrance, the evening of my quiet certainty. I was perhaps moving away from a senseless perdition. The moon was reflected on the lake filtered by a magical opalescence of the mists. The sense of calm and mystery suddenly strengthened even if I lost my emotional control ... ... The falling stars came down in clusters and I always expressed the same desire for each of them ....... At that moment I was so to speak happy, joyful and I wanted to stop the time, but what was holding me back?
Then suddenly I finally understood something: I could not close myself in my inner sufferings, live in nature, love it, but be far away because darkened by some kind of gloomy thoughts, always being fearful of everything and continually succubus of my mind prisoner of herself, being overwhelmed by an anguish born of the booming existential threats, by not being able to really deal with things, not to cultivate and bring to light my wild side, turn off little by little at the time of consumption ... .. but at this point I can not, in truth, proceed in the speech because the great dilemma remains: will I really deal with the reality of the wilderness of life? Will I be governed by wisdom and due courage? Will I stupidly dominate the domestic side of the wild? I do not know what I will do, or rather I know what I should do to be in truth, but only if I realize it will I be able to see its marvelous positive effects. Meanwhile, I thank that mysterious and surely metaphorical wolf of the woods, for its essence, its truth and its beauty; I will be with his spirit, in any case, forever united and irrevocably inseparable! My spirit will never cease to dream it even if he is far from me. The savage if you've lost it or you've lost it, you always feel it inside, anyway.
May I find you once again a lonely wolf to be able to caress the thick fur so soft for the incipient winter, even in another life ......
- * *
I'm alone in the hut. The snow falls copiously and everything seems to be sublimated in the beauty of matter and spirit. I'm choosing a different life, but I have to commit myself to live and breathe the new. I do not have to be afraid of changing and joining everything. I have to transfigure myself into myself. I have to walk in the night, fly in the mind and savor the hidden meaning of natural truth. I'm alone in the hut and I have to draw water from the well and warm up with the wood I've collected ... It's really true. It is difficult to return simple, it is really difficult to do it and above all to feel it inside. I become inebrained with the inner lights and transfigured into infinity, but I breathe deeply and feed myself with my new thought. I feel sometimes the hidden truth that little by little comes back to light. Light, a beautiful word that contrasts with darkness, not those of the night, but those of the spirit when it is busy searching for the ephemeral and the vacuous. The light brings me back to life, perhaps even united with death itself, but the truth gradually penetrates me into solitude and the lost way. I'm alone in the hut. The wind brings with it swirls of snow, icy sensations, but also transfers in the air the call of the wild and clear visions that the rustling of the fronds of the trees amplifies theatrically. I lock myself in my I, I try to look at myself from inside and I see my mistakes, my indecision, my transience and I push myself further, beyond my limit and, with surprise, I begin to glimpse the right bank where everything is like must be and as always will be. Dear wolf alone, come back to my mind, help me to open me to the wild world so that I can find again the load of truth and beauty. Thank you spirits of the woods. Your voice announces freedom, announces the right path and I, at the mercy of true life, slowly transmit towards the absolute, an absolute that in an opalescent form I remember that a distant time was in me, in every human being then ... ... the 'magic' word civilization took it away from me and I got tired, it's true, I got tired of it. I recognize all my mistakes, one by one, and I hardly try to find some kind of wisdom in between. Then suddenly I find one: awareness, being aware of something. It is a great possession, because it is the first step towards the right way. But at this point I do not have to go back. It's too good to lose it again. I can not afford it. Forgive me all if one day you can. I feel petty and ephemeral, but I began to be really aware now and now I can not help but go on for an enlightening and omnipresent path. I can hear the wolves. Finally I understand it in the right and undisputed way. But above all, now I really live it. I go out of the hut and I join that piercing sound because in my heart I finally feel that I can start again, really start again.
* * *
In the middle of the Nordic winter I find myself gathered in the hut surrounded by the infinite taiga that in the apparent sleep gives you the life and the 'breath' of the blood. The feeling of free freedom always returns to me, with the metaphorical watchful gaze of the wild wolf. I no longer understand the weight of falsehoods and masks, I feel the truth emerge from my skin and nothing, just nothing can distract me from this state of mind. Being in the wilderness means always being oneself, stripped bare with its own weaknesses and with all the limitations that each existing brings in one's own burden of life. Every action of the members and of the spirit is essential, and listening, knowing how to listen to silence and loneliness is now something to be learned and no longer to be seen. Nothing can take away from us the desire to breathe the truth, and nothing can prevent us from freeing ourselves from the useless chains that we have gradually imposed upon ourselves. But we must want to do it.
Listening to silence, the silent silence that gives reflection, calm and true serenity. The alienation of a man alone within the walls of civilization is strong and leads him slowly towards his ruin and his perdition. It extinguishes itself, it takes away the breath from itself and there is nothing that can wake him up from the deep sleep of his own spirit. I have learned to listen, by now very well, the calm and the voice of my inner part that in the end is perfectly intertwined with the great breath of the essence of wild life.
I was a prisoner and a slave to anguish and anxiety, and I was not at all master of myself. I was a sort of puppet whose threads were moved by the yearning of apparent life, and I no longer knew the secrets of my hidden truths.
In order to do so, I went to the margins of the voracious great circle of civilization, which assembled everything uniformly and reduced everything similar to a "machine" that produces, gains and above all consumes. To come out of it substantially outside, or at least to put oneself on the margins means to have understood that inside every life pulsates something else that is not money, power and ephemeral chimeras. The simple and simple sociality could lead to a multiform, harmonious and wise relationship, but the great, global and senseless sociality, or rather 'asociality', transforms things differently even if apparently unites them and leads, I would say, suddenly towards the abyss and the end of knowing how to listen to 'silence'.
The inner vision of life no longer seems to belong to contemporary man, and all the ailments of such a state come to light. The man therefore degenerates believing that with his work he is always doing better to 'step out' from a life that seemed to him intolerant and devoid of 'useful' things. He is therefore falling into the trap of himself, in a trap that may not allow a way back.
I reflect on the meaning of my life and I recognize that it is not a choice, but a duty, a duty that must be honored in the best possible way. If I cancel myself to spend meaningless existence it is as if I refuse to live, and this is not good. I have to react to the negativity that I impose on me or that sometimes indirectly imposed on me. I have to release my positive energy to dedicate it to the quality of existence.
From around the taiga seems to sleep, but it warns me, the sense of me awakens me, and leads me directly to the path of essence. So I take my spirit and let it flow through the river of life. A life of quality and essence where the vacuous and the nullities no longer find a place. I have finally understood that dream and reality merge into one single substance where the beauty of what is nature breathes within me and inside things.
I truly feel in my being the wilderness of life, the call of the wild. It is useless to hold great speeches if you kill nature. We all leave. Instead we must reject our selfishness and accept the universal beauty that the simple howl of the wolf can already well represent. Because what offends the sense of things, the sense of nature, offends the whole of the whole in one fell swoop. I feel like I want to love life with nature, because nature is love and life itself. For me everything that offends nature was inconceivable and from this point of view my clear tendency is, or all white or all black. My mind gave no nuance to the destructive work of the natural world by man.
I find myself in the hut in the heart of the taiga and I write these lines, the story of what 'said and did not say' the wolf, the story of love. And I hear a song, a song of sorrow, when man spontaneously wants to remove and annihilate what he believes does not belong to him anymore. He sings his error, his evil error, and I try to recognize the right, in harmony and in peace. Then I listen to the song of nature and cry for the joy that emanates, but I also cry for the hand that offends her. Oh man, why do you offend your mother? I believe I understand your gesture. You have simply lost the sense of reason and you no longer have a soul of universality and love. And then you destroy yourself and the things of nature which then, in the end, are the same thing.
But the wise words are not heard, do not enter in the soul in the now hardened even in the limbs. You do not listen, you can not see, you do not hear. It's not good. Why, man, do you escape the truth? I ask, I ask and I never get an answer.
In my past, as I have already announced, I too was blind and deaf and I had fallen into existential anguish and the sadness of life. But the spirit of the forest, the spirit of the Great North awakened me, made me understand and gave me the hope of existence. So I started to move away from the 'certain' certainties of false everyday life and I started to distance myself from that strange existential malaise. And slowly, listening to the howling of the wolf, I gave back to myself what belonged to me.
When something ends, it is not important what ends, but what starts. All things are united, even when they are different. It is up to one's own wisdom to understand which path to follow.
Time seems to pass slowly, but the taiga has taught me many practical things, and I would say above all the essential ones of the spirit. My long follow the life of the wolves has confirmed to me and at the same time unveiled many things of their witty existence. The herd is exceptionally compact, clean, perfectly adapted to survive in an environment that, especially in the long winter, is anything but easy. The dynamic of its members, extremely active and multiform, inspires a lot to always resist in life, because we must fight to the end. We must never give up and must penetrate, the tasks of survival, with the stimulus of their energy. The sharp look of a wolf or its true, but also symbolic howl, always reminds us that there is still an indomitable and wild nature, although I believe we can not fully understand all the messages, because there are many things that we do not perceive because there is less what the wolves can not tell us directly!
But anyway, we do not want to learn anymore, we do not even want to listen and we obviously do not want to understand. Now I ask myself: if we do nothing of these things, who will hold up the world? Man lives continuously on credit, but his fund is ending: nature. Think about it before continuing ..........