DAY 38: 10 THINGS TO BORN

Miriam 38 – The ten most important things I learned/understood/discovered after 38 days of isolation from the world, and which I will no longer be able to do without, are: 1) I learned that you need to let brioche dough rest for at least four hours, otherwise it gets difficult to digest; 2) I discovered that freeze-dried yeast works as well as the fresh one; 3) I understood that if I put make up on and I look at myself in the mirror, I feel better and it seems that the day will be better as well; 4) I learned the social function of social media, which is to help pass the time when you feel down; 5) I finally understood the teachers’ work, after listening for 3 hours straight 45 pupils saying repeatedly “teacherteacherteacher” (in my living room, via Skype); 6) I realized I was lucky that I didn’t become a teacher, and I thank God every day that my plan B has worked; 7) I realized (if ever I had to) that I love acting almost as much as I love breathing; 8) I understood (and accepted) that my relationship with writing is a love-hate one, I love it when I can write, I hate it as soon as I read what I’ve written; 9) I learned how to grocery shop in a clever way, using up everything I have in the pantry; 10) I realized that I need a series of hugs, and I put down a list of people to whom I will ask them, first of all my mother, my father and my sister.

And I could go on and on, but 11) I understood that becoming aware of what I am learning takes time, a lot of time; so 12) I learned to wait, with patience, something that I never, never had.

Andrea 38– Dear Miriam, I learned that one thing is more beautiful than the others: to give birth to something. It’s the sixth week of self-isolation, and although the world is thinking of the new era as of a return, I think the novelty of the things we have learned to do, to feel and to wish is the real revolution. Covid is the past, a bridge we look at from the rearview mirror of a more sustainable car, our adaptation to a new life is Birth. Like that of the workers who produced seven-fold men’s ties and who are now making three-layers medical masks. Like the bread growing in the small ovens of so many houses, like the level that has made us all equal and on the same side, even if someone still does not understand it. Like the shame of those singing “Covid Covid” in the stadiums, as an insult to the opponents, before they ended up locked up in Italy’s first red zone. Like the plants now growing on balconies that were abandoned until two months ago, like the green leaves of a spring that arrived on the trees of the hospice next to my building, while me, busy writing day 1, 2, 3..38, I thought it was still winter. The birth of this book, made up of relationships between people who didn’t know each other and that every day wait for this hour to say hello along 1000 red km. The birth of these feelings that have strengthened at a forced distance or that have met again in houses where they no longer knew they existed. The birth of a feeling of respect for all doctors and researchers, those who always ended up on the book of “cuts to Health and Research” and that today are our army for the present and our hope for the future. Birth as the desire for life that we feel stronger every day, even when we read the bulletin of those who unfortunately are gone. Let’s try to give birth to something every day, even here. It’s the real revolutions of these 38 days.