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grand central

Every time I was taking a plane from Sardinia to Rome my mum used to say: “leaving is a bit dying”. I never really understood what she ment though. After some more flights and cities experienced, I hear her voice sussurring that sentence often again. Every time I laugh a bit, ’cause it’s true.
Feelings die and born again.
We all are familiar with it. BUT, how beautiful is to fall in love often again? How amazing is loosing the control of your body and yourself? Like forgetting the balance while you are driving your bike and falling down in the floor laughing madly.
Love is not about relationship. It is not something we get from someone else. Love is a state of mind. You simply love and it will get back to you soon or later. We all love people, animals, places, passions, art, sporst. But if it is so beautiful why don’t we love more? Why is this becoming so difficult for human kind? We are the only people able to limit ourself and our capacity to love, so we should just make it easier.

ME. I openely consider NY the mature, deep, real love of my life. I didn’t know why, but it simply presented to me the right way to love. During the last years I tremendously missed its smell, its noise and all that lights which sadly rapresent the worst energetic waste of this planet. I don’t know when exactly happened but one day, on this side of the world, I began to think that the magic of my Big Apple was just inside my mind. It was all about memories of a forgotten time. I would love now to scream that I was terribly wrong. NY and myself are still in Love as the very first time. As when I used to consider it part of an imaginary place where Americans movies and fictions were shoot. Four years later I got back to Grand Central finding the same things I left. The same exact smell. A mixture of old trains’ gasoline, metals, american cofee and sugary stuff all togheter. I tried to talked with the buildings, lived the streets, felt myself as blood of this city’s veins again and again.
When we are in Love we create, find, discover love in every little thing. So, I was asking, why don’t we fall in love more? Why do we make it difficult?
The American developmental biologis Bruce Lipton says that we control our consciousness to create the reality we want. It would be interesting then to study what happened in my brain when I first get there.
There are many antropological reasons beside that. The magic of the travel is to discover new realities and probably for me this was a big discovery. That huge place was completely different from the place I am coming from. In the island of Sardinia the enemies were coming from the sea trying to conquest the lands and still our identity. In New York the sea was a sign of hope… it was always bringing new life, new ideas, new culture, new dreams. Where I grew instead, it is normal to be afraid of foreigners. Our grandma teaches us to never accept candies from extrangers… Never ever do it! They could seem nice people but they are always against you. So we are not allowed to trust them. This is something we learn fast.
What makes me so confused in NY was that strange warm welcome I received from everyone. They gave me their city and they seriously ask me to dream with it. The American dream is just a product to sell, sure, but that sweet way to be of New Yorkers is not. They gave me their own cell phones to call whoever I needed, they continuosly were whishing me an amazing day and they were always ready to give me directions or even bring me to the right place when I looked completely lost. I was hopelessly conquered by this. I started to smile at strangers very soon and making friends whenever I could. I remember having amazing conversations about life with strangers inside art galleries, bars, coffee shops, or inside the subway. I became friend of a guy who was looking for good music in a Virgin store. He finally came to have dinner with me and my friends and after more than 5 years we are still keeping in touch.
There are of course a lot of reasons to love NY city. Its stateliness, the art, Central Park, the freedom to be whoever you want, its money, the 5 neigboorhoods, the hipsters, the business, its Jewish community, Little Italy, China Town, Williamsburg, the vintage, the snow, the sunset falling from Brooklyn Bridge, the light, that strong american accent. If you want there a lot of reasons to hate it too.

But for me NY is love. The warm welcome I received taught me my best state of mind. It tought me the way to love strangers, and strangers gave me back that love often again. I thought that never again I could be such deeply in love. After being in other countries and experienced other amazing cultures I thought that the american dream could have worked once, but this time I was not interested to buy it anymore.
In the plane London-NY we met a New Yorker and the day after he introduced us to his lovely friends. It was like knowing them since always. Artists, yoga teachers, spiritual minds. We ate, laughed, walked and read poetry togheter. Strangely they planned to go to a vintage store in Williamsburg where I used to go when I was living there. I showed them the way. The feeling I had was kind of loosing the control of my bike… Finally finding myself in the floor laughing madly!
I am now trying to know myself better to control my consciousness. I learned that diversity opens our mind and help us to love more deeply. What I still don’t know is why we love something more than something else.

A special friend once told me something about past lives. She said to have seen me clearly in the past as an American Indian living in that piece of land that today is the state of NY.
I know, it could sound stupid but that night I was back to NY I have dreamed a beautiful Indian American woman smiling at me. She didn’t move her mouth but I heard her saying: welcome back home love.

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