I have always been of the idea that each of us tends to identify with one season of the year. Our characters and personalities often reflect certain characteristics specific to certain seasons. Which does not mean that the month in which we were born influences our life, but I believe that in our essence there are traces of a season!
Maybe we are almost the personification of a certain season! For example, there are those who identify themselves in the hot summer sun, because like summer, they have an extroverted disposition, a sociable personality and sometimes a little superficial or simply carefree. Who with their laughter could melt an iceberg or who with their contagious smile could illuminate a cold winter night. Whoever comes to life with lightness and panache, considering our existence as a great fun, a game without rules, in which in the end whoever is able to wear the mask of positivity and a smile wins even when the sun hides from the view!
The spring spirit, on the other hand, belongs to those who never take life seriously, but prefer to dream and project their hopes into an imaginary dimension, where obstacles and fears are nullified by hopes and dreams. The spring spirit belongs to those who believe that after the storm, in the end we always see the rainbow rise, a harbinger of new hopes and better days. The spring spirit is suitable only for dreamers and incurable romantics, for those who hope to change reality with the power of thought and raise the world with the lever of feelings.
The winter spirit instead reflects the perpetually sad and unsatisfied personalities. Winter is the season for those who always wear black, but not because black is their favorite color, but because their chronic pessimism prevents them from distinguishing all the other colors and capturing the various shades of reality. The freezing winter is often associated with the winter of the soul! The winter of the soul is the worst condition for human beings, the most alienating, the darkest and the most hateful. As if the cold winter wind, in addition to cooling the temperatures, also cooled our heart, to the point of freezing the ability to feel feelings and emotions! And the man, if deprived of the ability to feel feelings and emotions, slowly goes out like the weak flame of a candle, moves away from himself condemning himself to an empty existence in the name of restlessness and intolerance. The man without emotions, without hopes, without dreams, is emptied of all vital energies and forces. He will no longer be able to see the sun on the horizon, looking out his window of unhappiness he will always see an incessant rain, almost a deluge that risks overwhelming the entire existence, sweeping away all traces of hope and positivity!
And finally, there is autumn, the most fickle season of the year! Here, the autumn spirit reflects my disposition!
I too, like autumn, consider myself extremely fickle and unpredictable. My personality has different nuances, my way of thinking and looking at the world is not static but always subject to changes, it is constantly evolving. Consistency is not for me, especially when staying firm in my beliefs means giving up being myself, ceasing to think freely! To the static nature and monotony of coherence, I prefer unpredictability, as well as the ability to think freely, without conditions and prejudices.
Autumn looks like me because like me it changes my mood in the blink of an eye. The autumn rains in fact, know how to be more abundant than the winter ones, sometimes even more intense and unpredictable, since they catch us unprepared, perhaps they come suddenly, without making noise, while we are out and we have forgotten the umbrella at home. Oh yes, the charm of autumn is dictated by its unpredictability! Autumn alternates days of bright sunny and practically summer heat, with gloomy, rainy and melancholy days. It almost seems that the rains are transfigured into desolate and melancholy tears. My soul, reflects in full, the autumn season. In fact, even my soul is characterized by enthusiasm and yearnings of freedom and hope, to which, however, intervals of bad mood and sadness alternate, which extinguish my joy of life, and all my hopes and dreams crumble to the point of downgrading to vain illusions that, as such, cannot see the light, because they remain confined to a condition which, despite being inherent in my essence, represents the fulcrum of my fragility and insecurity! But clouds can only temporarily obscure my dreams and hopes, but never completely conceal them.