Over the years I have changed again and again my view about the meaning of existence. Today I know that the essence of our life can only be understood when we are approaching the end of the road. In our youth, too many concerns and responsibilities fill our heart; and if we want to reach old age with a peaceful heart and knowing that we have fulfilled our tasks in the best possible way, that is the way it should be. However, as we age things change. When I crossed the threshold of youth towards the second part of life, I began to wonder what awaited me in those long hours of silence and calm without any obligations or responsibilities. So I started by reading every article I found about the importance of having a project, an active social life and some good friends with whom to share the loneliness generated by our children leaving our home. Unfortunately, such advice had no real basis. Social life and projects are for the young and no longer belong to us. Finally one day I found the answer to the enigma; when I arrived at my house and went into that orderly and silent space, I understood that the last part of life is not there for social life or projects. Actually, those free hours and their daily loneliness are there for us to finally understand who we are; a much more important task than meeting friends who, in general, only bring into our lives their frustration and regret. Instead, the task that awaits us has to do with discovering the reason for the life we have lived. It is only in the evening of our years that we understand that, although our life followed an already designed road, the route was full of crossroads and detours. It is precisely those crossroads that have made us who we are and brought us to where we are now. This is why at dusk, when I ponder in front of the dying day, I tell myself that for some reason the crossroads I chose are the ones I would choose again. The chosen road was definitely mine.
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