The Origin

It isn’t hard getting work done, hard is getting oneself in the state of doing it. I’ve always thought about it this way, as it is how I function to my core.
A while ago I’ve learned that Constantin Brâncuși had this same saying and I found it lovely, especially because I have a deep admiration for his strength, since long ago in high-school, having read about his travel to France, all across Europe, all “à pied”, wearing wooden clogs.

By each spoken word, every single glance or a text I’m writing, I live a graduation exam. It is therefore not a contest, but a verification of the basic knowledge of he who I was, so that I can take notice of he who I’ve become.
And it’s not about the past, the present or the future, but rather the transition in between, that magical moment where I ask myself – “What about this text?  What about me?  What do I want with it?  What do I want with me?  Is it good enough?  Am I enough?  How will I be without it? ”

Because, you see, I believe that I belong to everyone and at the same time to no one and with each passing from one self to other, I feel like living, like belonging to myself. Only there, in that space between me and myself, do I really decide, sporadically and ephemerally succeeding to fight fear, to let go of who I am and consider who I might become. In that instant alone do I manage to accept my “self”, only to give up on it once more for a new becoming, again uncertain, anew sunk in despair.

My main despondency is that people are lying, not fully, but generally. And alongside others we too learn lying, to ourselves. It is a vicious circle we enter, little by little until completely, making us feel depersonalized and meaningless, bringing us to that point where we believe that getting out of it would be our damnation, because – isn’t it so? – what would we then amount to without our tight circle?

Few, if a handful of people, have managed to give me the strength of breaking this circle. Among them, teachers, psychologists and souls trainers. The latter are these days known as coaches.
It’s hard being touched by such people and not want to do it all the same, to pay it forward, the leap of freedom.

My mother asked me what a coach was really doing and my answer to her went like this:
“A coach listens to you, Mom! Not by the stethoscope, as doctors do, but with their soul and mind, mother.
A coach is one genuinely present with you! A smart person playing for a fool, often asking what you meant by what you just said, how have you come to the conclusions you set out, how is it that you feel like whenever you’re feeling.
You know that they are smart and so you turn to yourself, in search for another way, a different energy, by which to express, better, what you thought obvious. And then it hits you, the “aha”, the perspective, the meanings, the tears.
That’s why, mother, I call such person a souls trainer, because, among other things, they help you find your way of being, the foundation of any communication, with yourself or with others.”

‘Cause I have come to this conclusion, more often than not, that the biggest part in all of peoples’ misalignments is played by the low quality of their conversations, actually by them being dishonest with themselves and with those in front of them.

So I have this dream, that people will choose to have real conversations, my mission being to help them find meaningful reasons so they do it.
Well, the twist here is of course that such talks require humans with self-awareness, the impact being that more of us will thrive finding themselves.