An Indian guru once told me “You are planning too much your life. Let it flow.” I told her that otherwise I wouldn’t have met her. “We would have met anyway.” she replied.

From all that long conversation I had with her, it was the only thing I couldn’t agree. For me it was essential to dream at something and than to plan for it. I’ve always had agendas and notebooks and I even had my pleasant morning coffee moment with looking  ahead.

My son Filippo turned everything upside down as if he had some secret pact with my beloved ageless Indian lady to demonstrate that those agendas are silly waste of time and that important stuff is coming anyway, whipping away the today and tomorrow notes like an open sea storm drowns the small boats.

Since having him life unfolds differently and the only notes well kept are those around cooking new dishes, planning dinners and going out. The rest slowly or silently waits for its timing.

I hardly know what I will do tomorrow or next week and I stopped looking in that direction for the moment.

I’m fully into colors, cartoon characters and toys world, learning to follow him and to abandon the common hours of the day. My agendas are quietly waiting under a pile of children coloured books. I guess we’ll meet again someday.

 

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