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Shyness was the prison of my life MONTESQUIEU
"Shyness - only they know the timid, not for fun but for virtuous perseverance - can be and become a melody 'existence, even if subdued and subdued. Barely audible, muffled in his signal. Inaudible to ears that there are accustomed. Especially since, as he wrote Maria Zambrano, where "The heavens are many" and "Heaven is an abstraction in the singular," all things, the feelings even more, it should be seen in its multiplicity. There are the shyness that have something to share with each other, without a doubt the relationship with loneliness. Shunned by those whose life was marred by phobias, fears, sought by those who knew how to teach. "
Duccio Demetrio So far, the author of a book that I found interesting in a library in the center of Toledo: Life shy. The feeling and the virtues of shyness. The quotation from Montesquieu was stolen from there. The introductory paragraph is made in the words of Demetrius. This opens a chapter titled Slavery or maybe a song? - I wanted to call this post Maybe a song to give an answer: I'm at a stage in my life when I speak, I can express the contents of my own experience. I do as a session musician, as a lover and as a teacher. But I am also the son, brother ... I give things to my value, because in the long moments of pause - like that elapsed between December 13 and February 3 - I lock myself in my solitude. But perhaps it would be more correct to say: I open up my loneliness, because those are the magical moments when the heart sings. I talk to Martina of the things that I could not say in face-to-face. I talk with my music students. I talk to myself.
I also deal with my fears. Observations. The study. For analysis. Again with the memory of the small steps that led me scared to stop, even for one small thing. This year I was not taught by anyone. The timid are well aware. They just wonder why and how they come about. For every failure, every block must continue to think. We do this as soon as he returned home, or after an accident with someone who has stopped the course of events, paralyzing his tongue and heart.
The emotional turmoil of the heart is engorged, redness, immediate guilt. When I attended elementary school, I remember vividly all the same episodes and painful for me. If someone had stolen a snack with a friend and the teacher looked at us with sullen eyes trying to unmask the culprit, I blushed. Although I was not myself. The timid are guilty. Always. Perhaps Kafka was shy. They told me that all his work is crossed by the feeling of guilt. Would be guilty even writing anyway, even if it is convinced it did not commit anything. Without the proper proportions - do not mean to compare me to him! - You could say the same thing. So how many times does it accept responsibility for things that were created by him?
With Martina is a bit 'different. You know me. I tease. And I do not always like this. When he took advantage, going to end badly. The plant there and I'm leaving. I lock myself in the room and immerse myself in the sound of my piano. Continuing the discussion with her. Here, the loneliness is this for me. These are the times when I have to reconcile myself with someone. I do so in ways that I know. The dialogue continues with a page of Miles Davis. So I said, I open up my loneliness. If Martin has closed my heart, in solitude I open it and I learn how to do it alone what will surely learn it yourself, that is to close and open.
I am well hidden for a while 'inaccessible in that room with the door wide open, waiting. If anyone is to say new words, I will provide, perhaps with a song by Cole Porter, for love is not always as a sonata by Bach. More often it is like a song. And you must sing. Deceiving the time we spend to kick against the Destiny, because it rises at least quietly welcome a new song every life and every tax break from the vagaries of the heart.
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