What’s this all about? Well, somehow me. My life, the lessons I’ve learned, the things I hate and those I love. My friends, my moods, my passions. It’s the diary a gispy woman, travelling solo and enjoying the ride. It’s a blog about the importance of getting lost.

And everything start from a single question. How many lives do we really have? We love to consider our existences as an uninterrupted line, but is it true? If I look back, I am no longer the person I was ten years ago. And I am not talking only about the weight and the first wrinkles. I am different. My life changed so much that my old “me” no longer exists. Right now I feel like a white board with nothing written on it beside some sloppy notes and a few ideas. And it’s fine. We are all projects, all “work in progress”. We carry along our past identities as voices that whisper in our head. Nothing more than this. Aliases that do not longer have the power to strike a chord, to enchant us as they used to do. But how we deal with the white board? I mean.  Is it too late? Do we still have a chance? Can we start all over and survive?  We can. We will. Beside, what’s the other option? Do you think that playing the “giving up” card would change anything for us? Are we expecting someone to save us? Because, we know that, nobody is coming, we can bet on it. But, on a second thought do we really need to be saved? Or maybe, just maybe, we are exactly what we need to be and where we need to be to save ourselves. Sometimes, if I look back I see myself crawling in the mud, hurt and broken after every single failure I experienced. And every time I thought the pain would have last forever. Every time I considered myself dead and finished. And against all odds, every time I stood back again on my feet. Nothing in this life is unalterable (not even Ophra, Chanel or the permanent nail polished you made last week). We live in a constant flow of change. The pain that keeps us awake night after night, won’t last forever, and so won’t happiness. Or love. And no, we can’t control it as we can’t control anything that matters in our lives (try to convince your body hair to grow slower on summer time, then we talk.)

So how we deal with the white board? Well, we write on it. We are starting over, remember? We can chose to be whoever we want to. Or trying at least! Want to lose weight? Nailed it! Want to give a try to martial arts? Want to scuba dive? Travelling solo anyone? Crossing the Sahara?  Who said that you are a cat person? Maybe you prefer dogs! Or horses…. Or nothing at all! Are you a writer? A painter, maybe? Piano class anybody? And so on. This is us. Our choices. Our dreams. And they will come. Slowly at first. They are the reward of our healing process. This is the reason why on our inner white board we can write whatever we want. It’s our plan, a new book, a new chapter. And we earned it through pain. We survived. Now, we have to believe in it.