I always thought that my biggest dream was to travel, to discover distant countries, to photograph eyes, hands and smiles that belong to people of thousands of kilometers away from me, to taste ethnic food and to stop and enjoy those sunsets that are no longer noticed.
Because for all of us, what is in front of our eyes every day for years becomes transparent, obvious.
It loses its beauty and magic.
And so we start looking for new places, new faces and new foods to observe and taste, becoming in fact blind in front of the beauty that surrounds us at all times.
My life has been a journey, a long journey through the Italian territories, looking for people to create a dream with.
A journey made of knowledge, exchanges, work and emotions, which left me a lot of joy in my heart
and many lessons in my head.
A career journey enviable and envied mainly because it was the climb of a woman like many others, a hairdresser who came from the mountains without a degree and with everyone’s great dreams.
My trip to the unknown lands of an activity where I could only learn and grow, with so many uncertainties and only one certainty: I would have reached my goal and I would have
Miles, meals and hotel rooms act as a backdrop to this infinite evolution, until the moment of collapse.
Until you no longer recognize yourself.
All my traveling had stopped, concentrated on one introspective journey that would have led me to understand the most beautiful thing of all: it’s not the context that makes a person lucky or happy, if anything the opposite.
My motionless journey, made of sudden naps, new therapies and habits to be built, had become the reason to love my illness, the possibility of looking at it proactively and being able to live it as a one-way trip.
You have to choose the destination, decide with whom to leave and when, plan the stages and think about what to do once you arrive at your destination and, finally, enjoy every single moment of that new life.
So it was easier to understand that every new passage into the unknown could be a new adventure and not necessarily something to be afraid of, that every conquest had to be celebrated and savored as if it was a delicacy wine and that luck doesn’t mean not having problems but actually having the strength to face them.
I thought for a long time about how I could recognize myself again, how to use this great opportunity called Narcolepsy to understand who I had become and how I could improve. The answer came clear and immediate as only a great passion can be: writing and helping others.
Thus was born this blog, a first-class trip in the life of a person with Narcolepsy, to discover that having a rare disease is something that happens to you, but that your reaction to the disease is something you can manage and decide, organizing your life as the most beautiful of travels.
The motionless journey for me represents the strong feeling I get when something becomes tiring.
The tiredness that makes you nervous, the eyes that fill with tears when you no longer have the strength to do the necessary, the tremor that weakens your arms and legs and that makes you think you can no longer walk … and then liberation, the sudden wonder of arrival, the gaze that opens up to a new horizon and the emotion when you say “today I made it”.
The motionless journey is the effort to travel the road and the catharsis of the arrival.
MY motionless journey is the generative, daily effort to enjoy the peace of a conquered destination.
It’s something that is part of me, like dark eyes, and that I want to live with the same hunger for serenity as when, holding hand with my partner, I entered the clinic to get my diagnosis.
Now all I have to do is walk with the sun on my face towards the next destination and tell you how my next, real, journey will be and what I will decide to bring in my suitcase, in addition to my Mickey Mouse shirt.
See you soon, with the suitcase in your hand and a dream in your heart.