czarda

Think about it: all creatures follow the line of least resistance.

The ant proceeds along the most practicable path. The hungry lion hunts; sated, rests. Water trickles downward, clouds indulge the wind. The strong rampages, the weak swallows his anger. The most beautiful women and the most mature fruits are consumed first.

We all adapt to follow the shortest route, the easiest, the most followed, the one that avoids pain or labor; sometimes just real thinking, an unpleasant conversation.

The least resistance marks the boundary of our fragility. Fate awaits us where we will inevitably end up. With my hunting shotgun I shoot just beyond where the pheasant is, certain that it will fly to meet my shot. Sooner or later, the sniper knows it, from the trench, the vulnerable curve of a head will show. Someone will get up to relieve a cramp, to move an object, just three fingers: It is enough to wait.

It is thanks to this simple law of nature that we are predictable. Me too, like everyone else. Until the midnight of December 31 five years ago, when something happened and I decided to change. What? I don’t want to remember, I won’t tell you.

I remember a New Year’s celebration. I wanted to be alone, watching trails of light in the cold night, from a balcony. It was there that it happened to me. Sure, it will be difficult, but I will not go back on my decision, I swore to myself finishing my champagne. I started it in a simple way, coming back into the salon without avoiding anyone’s gaze, looking everybody in the face: my employer, my daughter, my wife, my lover, four girls I used to like, a promising young man, a group of ladies who knew everything about me, without smiling at a soul, without anger, without affectation, without caring about what they thought, and I went out, amid the murmuring that was becoming noticeable against the carefree music by a Viennese orchestra.

Things changed quickly. My opponents were no longer able to predict my moves. They obstinately tried to obstruct me, then, confused, they gave up. Some old enemies, who were chasing me to get back at me because of a certain folly of my youth, could no longer find my person.

Yet I was beginning to acquire a reputation. Stories began circulating about my unpredictable intelligence. Exaggerated stories, I assure you. I became rich. I started giving lectures such as this one, which are attended by huge audiences like tonight, anxious to know my secret. But there is no secret. My life is all here, transparent before your eyes. As I said, I simply stopped following the easy way. I learned to travel light. Only today, I tell you, do I understand the simple allusions of religions: the eye of the needle, the narrow gate.

Life favors me, you might think, easy for me to talk. But it isn’t fortune that drives my actions. My luck may change, but I won’t. My wealth may vanish, I too will be laid to rest in a grave. For the moment, a beautiful young woman is in love with me. Her hair is so fine and delicate that it sometimes makes me cry, and she looks at me as you would stare at an opera singer, a hero of cinema. It’s something about you, she always says. Were she to leave me, I wouldn’t go back to following the line of least resistance. All my decisions have been made, there is no return. Why would I even think of retracing my steps? Notice my face, look how relaxed it is. My digestion has improved and my joints are more flexible. I’m stronger than when I was twenty. Look at me! Have you ever seen an old man dancing the czarda in this way?