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Day 16 - Così è (se vi pare)

Vetralla → Sutri (24 km)

If you missed the other days, you can access them here.

Another pilgrim told me about Così è (se vi pare), the play by Luigi Pirandello. Right you are (if you think so). The premise is evident from the title. The wisest of the wise, from Buddha to Rumi to Jesus, have said similar things, so I don’t need to drive the point home. What you already want to see influences what you will see, hear, perceive. In a play, this premise usually has a tragic ending. On a long walk, I think we get the chance to make it less tragic by understanding its nuances. That’s because the walk disagrees with you at every point and makes you ask yourself “Do I really think so?”

After walking for a week, two, three, I noticed the discrepancies between all the images that I had painted in my head: who I thought I was walking with and why I was walking. Noticing the differences grounded me in reality. The walk is a great antidote to thinking that you’re always right.

The day started with a reminder of the premise. The bar on Google Maps said “the most beautiful bar in the world”. Hard to disagree with the patrons when they really thought so. And I could see it: this espresso bar was yet another small community hub where people come to talk shop.

The walk is hard, if you think so. Now, let’s be clear: I’m not saying that walking 20+ kilometres daily with 10kg on your back is easy. But after a while, the focus on the pain, the discomfort, the heat and the sun goes away and it becomes manageable. The walk is easy, if you walk it. Hard, if you think so.

Then there are the strangers. Oh, the strangers and their kindness. It all starts with the hellos and the usual exchange: where are you walking from, where to, what combination of languages are we going to use, shall we walk together? And from first impressions to the first kilometres walked together, we build up an image of who they are. Here, we’re both walkers, but who are you, really? These strangers will spill their beans to you, help you with the knee injury, show you how to tape your feet and dissect your backpack to decide on what to send home because you’ve packed too much. Then you walk a bit more and, of course, they will surprise you by disproving the image that you had of them. Whether in the similarities or the differences, we keep splashing paint over the canvas where we’ve sketched our portrait of them. The process is both artistic and scientific. The key, I believe, is not trying to be right, but open. That’s what the walk asks of you.

The guide book mentioned the charming little town of Capranica. After 10 minutes of walking the suburbs, I was still looking for the charm. Nowhere to be found. I guess one can’t say bad things about a place in a guide book? Right you are, if you think so. The town had delightful surprises for me, once I crossed into the historic centre: narrow alleyways and little spots to rest. Charmed I am, I thought.

Our minds are powerful sources of imagination. We can envision futures that don’t exist and then move particles around to achieve our visions. Right you are about the future if you think so, the gospel of entrepreneurship. Of course, entrepreneurs or innovators of any kind have to constantly change their minds all the time, but vision (if you think so) will lead a big part of the way.

It’s a powerful double-edged sword, when one focuses too much on the first part, the being right. Or rather, wanting to be right all the fucking time. Maybe we do need to live with the tension of not being right and not knowing the answer right away. That’s the key - walking a few more kilometres may give you a better answer if you withold the desire to be right. “You have to go deep, if you want to catch the big fish,” David Lynch used to say. This sounds a bit like a rant, but it’s mostly a reminder to myself to keep eyes open, withold being right and ask “Do I really think so?”

The woods are always a bit mysterious. I’m never quite sure what’s around the corner. Unlike the Tuscan hills, where you see what the horizon has to offer, the woods put you in a position of uncertainty. What lies on the path ahead? A mushroom, a mossy log, a little waterfall?

The logs in this particular forest looked like they were purposefully arranged to make me repeat “whimsical” 50 times in my head and find its synonyms. I thought of who might be responsible for that.

Maybe it’s Gianluca, the lumberjack who walks the woods of Lazio. One might think he is cutting down the forests. But really, he is chopping logs in such a way that they fall to build a beautiful landscape, a work of art. He eats finocchiona sandwiches (of course) and has a checkered shirt, “like the Canadians” he says. When I ask him whether I’m right, he responds: “Right you will be, if you will walk.”

Three days left until I say hello from Rome and you stop hearing from me.

Till tomorrow,

Florin