The can

Here is this title : the can. I really do not remember why should this title  be catchy for me. Anyway, now is coming something else, but this title stays for the unique goal that, one day, I would remember what was about.

I came across an article in Globe and Mail about a doctor who got cancer and, among other things, he has begun to blog: “I’ve always found writing to be cathartic” – he says.

I figure out that the state of distress, any kind – as something that push us aside and away from our balanced trajectory of our life, brings us in another state, those of willingness of speak out loud, beginning with Almighty (if He is able to listen to us) and ending with our self, passing through any other poor soul that stays in between.

Between the illness and the happiness there are a lot of other “ness” that all push us to the brink of distress. Even the happiness is stressful because looks like a thermodynamical state that behaves as Entropy but reversely and alike irreversibly.

Looking for this Aristotelian term, cathartic, understanding thoroughly its meaning, it gives us the chance of redemption. Speaking out, writing, brings us the clearness, one long waited for, and helps us going out of the mist.



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