The child and the lighthouse
23 Oct 2024When I was asked as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered: lighthouse keeper.
‘But how can a child have such a dream,’ people would reply. Such a hard job, marginalised, with long winters and disconnected from any possible human interaction. ‘And what kind of talent could he develop with such a job?’ they insisted.
What a strange word, ‘talent’, I thought. It was only years later that I discovered what a wonderful metamorphosis the meaning of this term has undergone throughout history. From a unit of weight, to an ancient currency in use in Greece, and then to a person’s ability. Here, my talent was to be the ability to take care of an isolated place, almost forgotten by some, to serve as a guide to those who come from afar and to give it one day, why not, a new form. And for this, according to my Machiavellian reasoning, I needed to be in permanent contact with the sea.
Over the years (I would dare say fortunately), life took me out of that metaphorical fortress of saline walls and led me to the outside world that awaited me, always with pen in hand and reserving a space for creativity at all times. But I still decided that I would let myself and humanity pass through me every day, willing to let myself be surprised and questioned.
So I travelled, got my hands dirty, fell in love, met personalities similar to mine but also characters that had nothing to do with my script. I did jobs I was passionate about and others just to allow me to pursue the dreams I nurtured. I made mistakes and started from scratch, just as I got the right combination and got inspired.
But what has been the common thread through all these transitions? Witnessing. Of the people around me, of myself, of strangers.
The relevance of the experiences we live and what we believe can have an impact on society lose significantly their value if they are not passed on.
In order for others to recognise them, to form a community, to spark debate, or simply for the pleasure of listening, they have to be brought to light in some way, to be shared.
It was thus that I realised that the lighthouse in which I placed my childhood dreams, the intimate and secluded place I jealously guarded but hoped would attract new adventurers, was none other than my heart.
And today, at the dawn of this new beginning, the talent to be deployed is clear: always point the light towards the horizon without letting it go out.
