We complain sometimes because life is monotonous and bland. It may also be true if we look around us with the eyes of the layman, who does not know how to appreciate the charm of nature, but, if we have the necessary sensitivity, new perspectives open up before us capable of making us look far into new horizons.
We think of the beauty of our mountains, which know how to speak to us if we know how to listen to them. They are themselves a work of art without the need for painters and poets. A heritage that we don’t realize we have.
But there is another argument in favor of those who do not turn their eyes around as a layman: the fact that life itself obliges us to have priorities and these are nothing more than knowing how to look above the boundaries of our “particular” and knowing how to move in a world that belongs to us.
It will be said that society itself creates these fences and we are powerless in the face of what is happening around us. I think it’s half true: on the one hand we are forced to compromise, on the other we are the architects of our own destiny.
Machiavelli compares luck to a river in flood which, when it overflows, devastates everything it encounters, and therefore man can reduce its devastating effect only by building embankments.
Luck therefore is the arbiter of only half of man’s actions, and the other half is in the hands of the latter. We therefore respond to the stimuli that push us to act through the maturity necessary to make choices, certain that we will not regret it.