The invisible path

Life is a frighteningly complex and fascinating system, beyond all limits. One of the first thoughts that struck me deeply at university, during an astrophysics course, was realising how vast the universe was and how small the probability was that I, today, would find myself here, conscious, writing on this blog.¹

Let us simply become aware that life is unique and that this, together with our biological survival instinct, drives us to want to live as long as possible. We may therefore as well try to live it to the best of our potential, seeking to maximise satisfaction, peace, fulfilment, happiness, or whatever you want to call it, whatever our age or wherever we are.

Imagine that in front of each of us there is an optimal path which, precisely because of its intrinsic complexity, we cannot uncover, but which exists. We cannot uncover and follow it, but we have all the means to try to move closer to it every day.

And one thing I, too, have realised is that writing helps with this purpose. It helps us think, it helps us reflect, it helps us make decisions. I find a certain peace in putting some thoughts down in black and white, as if at times there were too much entropy, too much fog and confusion in my mind, and bringing everything out and making a thought concrete could somehow bring back clear skies.

What I write naturally applies to me: life is a complex system, made up of general principles that do not change over time, but also of many variables that depend on the era, the place, who we are, and who shares it with us. Yet I have always benefited greatly from the experiences of those who chose to recount them honestly. It was the books, reflections, and experiences of certain people that opened my eyes and made me aware of so many things.

For this reason, the mere thought that the blog might help, today or in the future, even one person become aware of something, reflect, make a good decision, find a good book, or have a good idea for their future gives me great satisfaction.