18 Oct Let them pass

As in an exercise in creative unblocking, to think of my father is to remember, in childhood, to gather the newspapers that he left in the garden, carried by the wind, under the great mango tree, every Sunday morning. I also remember him lying in the hammock reviewing his surgeries and asking me to remove his thin socks. And what about the catchphrases: “Satisfy me with your absence”, “It’s a struggle to raise the cultural level of this people”, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire to my rooms”. War films, classical music, biographies, forró by Luiz Gonzaga in the sound, on trips to the beach. All of this is the face of my father. Exactly on one of these trips, I remember, as a teenager, noticing its steady and slower pace than other cars. My brothers and I noticed that several cars passed us and we asked him to speed up, to shorten the trip. The answer was: – Let them pass … On that same trip, one of the cars that had passed in front of us crashed and stopped halfway. During the day-to-day journey, many cross us, “close us”, thinking they are at an advantage. We feel slow and, often, all we have left is to make peace with the hopes of life. Make peace with our rhythm, in the best style “there is a time for everything under the skies”. Today, when I realize that several areas of my life have gone in the wrong direction, they have slowed down, I wonder which sign I followed or failed to follow. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. Letting several people pass gave me wings, because I drank the elixir of my freedom, which overflowed and made me see things from another angle. Let them through. Let them go beyond the right speed of life’s events, let them think they are winning, let them find out for themselves that direction is more important than speed (as the famous phrase says).

Let them discover that whoever wins is not the one who arrives first, but who best enjoyed the trip, who looked out the window and enjoyed the view. Life is not a Formula 1 race, with champagne at the end. In the end, the only worthwhile prize is genuine self-love. Everyone gets off the podium. Because, in the end, life is about who slows down, in everything. Not wanting, in the will, on the road. This rush takes away the taste of life, of the small details that often make a difference. Happiness has a driver’s license, but does not get a speeding ticket and the one who monitors is the heart.