I Want to Get Rid of Myself

I’m going to stay some days alone, in the Alps, a wonderful mountain place not too far from where I live, in Italy. The picture below is the view from the balcony.

Every year I try to reserve one week for myself. I dedicate these days to get in touch with the deeper me and dedicate myself full time to my studies. I would say that these studies are my life goal but it sounds ridiculous even to myself. It’s incredible how you can let life take you away from your true goals. They call it responsibility. I call this part of myself cowardice.

The last 3–4 years I spent this period away from home. It was a need. Probably because my life didn’t belong to me and something else was missing too much. It was to ask a lot to my wife, and was accompanied by guilty feelings.

Last summer, during this gap week, I realized that I was on the wrong path. I was 47. I felt it was the last call for the other me.

In the next few months, the issues that I had with the company owner come to light and I suddenly left my demanding job, with no plans for my future. It was a painful passage, and I’m still emotionally handling it. But it gave me the opportunity to regain possession of my time and change my life. I and my dears deserve it. I still have no precise plans, for now.


I used to fill this yearly occasion with thoughts, meditation, reading and some writing. This time will be different. I realized it on my way here.

My life was wrong because I filled it with the wrong things. Normal things. I let myself do the wrong work, for the wrong people, consuming my time for the wrong priorities.

I was the problem. Period. Before filling my life with good habits, right priorities, maybe a job, I have to get rid of myself.

I fear the failure of my new opportunity. I feel guilty for my decision. I miss what I had. I have too big goals. I’m full of bad habits. Or bad emotions. I was the wrong me. And I still am. Not a bad person, but I have to leave all this useless baggage behind.

I feel a strong energy, accumulated over time, when I let the childish me come out, when I let me think deeply, when I let me express fearlessly. But it does not show up in unsuitable circumstances. That’s the real me. There will be practical drawbacks to manage but, for now, I have to make him stay out of the cave.

I want to spend these few days saying goodbye to an old person. The old me. I know he will come back too often. But I have to say him that I am no more his home. I have to make room for something else. For the true me.

It will not be easy, of course, but that’s the story for other days. Luckily, this time I have no choice but to change. And it won’t happen with the old me.


Coincidently, this is a special day of another old person, blood of my blood.

I’ll leave no crap to take the place of my dreams. He can do it no more. I can.