BETWEEN CLICKS AND CONSEQUENCES

I'm avoiding the news like the devil avoids the cross. I realized some time ago how these headlines affect me. Especially because journalism tends to exaggerate, endlessly repeating tragedies, creating an almost inevitable sense of negativity.

The fire in Los Angeles, for example, was devastating. But perhaps even more devastating is watching the repeated footage of people crying in front of the cameras, showing the loss of their homes and memories. The pain is palpable, but repetition turns tragedy into spectacle. I do not diminish the suffering of these people. I imagine myself in front of the TV, watching my home consumed by flames—it must be an unbearable pain!

I still remember a flood in Brazil. A man stood with water up to his waist, looking at his nearly submerged house. A journalist approached him, microphone in hand, and asked, "How do you feel seeing your house like this?" The man’s gaze and silence were more eloquent than any words could ever be. That scene stayed with me.

I am exhausted by sensationalism. This also applies to illnesses. The diseases of public figures are exploited by the media, exposing their human fragility; capitalizing on someone else's suffering to capture an audience’s attention is an abuse of the trust we place in journalism. While humanizing celebrities can make them more relatable, using their struggles to sell a drama is so exploitative!

And we, as consumers, are part of this cycle—and I am one of them. There will always be those who buy the cream that promises instant rejuvenation. "Before and after" photos, excessively manipulated, feed illusions that sustain an industry of false hopes.

But resistance is possible. Choosing not to engage with sensationalist content is a small gesture that, over time, can lead to meaningful change.

Choosing respect over spectacle. Maybe, in time, the silence of those who reject this cycle will speak louder than the voices that exploit not only human pain but also the appeal of consumerism.

In this year of 2025, I am seriously rethinking my clicks.

Notes That Silence Holds

 I had never paid attention to how important a soundtrack can be. The other day, while watching a movie, I couldn’t focus because of the “noise” from its soundtrack. It was completely mismatched with the film. You know when you’re watching, and suddenly, a dark scene comes with an almost funereal tune? Or when the scene is joyful, and the soundtrack follows the feeling? But in that movie, the music was always incredibly loud—louder than the dialogue and totally out of sync with the scenes. It was as if the excess sound was stealing the story.

After that, making an analogy, I started thinking about the movie of our lives. So often, we crave peace, yet we’re surrounded by noise or exhausting relationships, when the defining moments of our journey bring their own music—one we can barely hear.

And isn’t silence a precious pause? Every human being needs it to absorb life’s notes, to organize the melody the heart insists on playing. But when the soundtrack is too loud, the dialogues become inaudible. Life is the same way: the distractions of social media, the noise of the media, our phones, this frantic pace of modern days can drown out our inner voice and disconnect us from who we truly are.

In life’s melody, it’s the little things that guide our emotions: the laughter of a loved one, a warm cup of coffee, an unexpected hug, freshly baked bread (isn’t it, DiLucas?), a child’s spontaneity, the good news from a dear friend, a child’s achievement, a medical test overcome, a renewed hope. Everything has its right music.

Without a doubt, every choice we make, every silence we respect, every noise we embrace gradually composes the music of our soul.

That’s why, at the beginning of the year, I decided to adjust my “soundtrack” and carefully choose the sounds I want around me. I want the music of my life not to be imposed by the world’s noise but conducted by the harmony of what truly matters. Because, in the end, we are nothing more than the song we leave in the air—a subtle echo, wandering through the notes of time, dancing among memories, and persisting even after the silence.

THE LAST SMILE: BETWEEN LIFE AND SILENCE

Living here in the U.S. for 36 years, this week I had my first experience visiting a hospice. Do you know what a hospice is here in the U.S.? It’s a facility that cares for terminally ill patients. When there is no longer any hope for a cure, patients go to this place, where specialized nurses provide end-of-life care. The person I went to visit worked with me for ten years, and when I left the company in 2004, I never saw him again. Recently, I found out that he was battling an aggressive cancer and had decided to stop treatment. He had been undergoing treatment for many years, but now the disease had spread to both lungs. What a heartbreaking situation!

I parked my car in front of the hospice and took a moment to prepare myself before going in. All I wanted was to bring a little joy, a little energy, to my friend. I took a deep breath. I said a prayer. Dennis had always been a cheerful, funny, strong, and determined person, working with so much energy! I entered that place with my heart in my hands, knowing it would be a difficult task. But there are moments in life when we must be strong and focus on giving that “something extra” to those who need it.

I walked into the dimly lit room, and there he was, sitting on the bed, bald from countless chemotherapy sessions, yet wearing the same smile. In the silence of that room, I realized that presence speaks louder than words. There are moments when a simple touch of the hand means more than a thousand words.  

I held his hand, and we reminisced about old times, laughing at memories from the past. As he spoke, I looked at him, unable to believe that the man before me was the same Dennis I had known. What illness does to people! But time can change everything, but it does not erase the essence of who we are.

Between laughter and memories, we tried to trick time, but it follows its relentless course. Life is fragile, and every moment we live is a gift that should not be wasted.

I kept holding his hand, listening to his stories, laughing with him, while at the same time looking at his face and thinking, “Soon, he won’t be here.” What a painful thought! Before I left, I kissed his face, fixing his last expression in my memory. He seemed peaceful, as if he knew his time here was coming to an end. Sixty-two years old, full of life, with a wife, children, and grandchildren. And now, saying goodbye to life.

Life is a road filled with many farewells—some expected, others that take us by surprise.In the coming days, his passing is expected. I left feeling so small in relation to the world and everything in it. I kept thinking about how insignificant we are. I sat in my car and reflected on my own life—but at the same time, I felt grateful for having gone and for giving him a few moments of joy and remembrance.

I left that place carrying a mix of sadness and gratitude in my heart—sadness for the farewell, gratitude for the reunion.Goodbyes remind us of the value of simple moments, the ones that often go unnoticed. Like when I held his hand in silence, and his gaze said it all.Perhaps it is in that silence that the true music of life hides—the one that, because it cannot be heard, can only be felt in the heart of those who know how to listen.May our journey be filled with gestures that make a difference in someone’s life. I know that encounters like this make us reflect deeply on our own path. And I did reflect.

May God welcome him with love and kindness, in gratitude for all he did here.

See you someday, Dennis!

THE PERFECT MOMENT

End of Sunday. A light rain that doesn’t stop and nature is simply wonderful, with its autumn colors! I decided to go for a drive and see all this beauty. It’s impossible to describe the painting of God’s hand on each leaf. Sometimes, just looking at it, I feel like crying. Pure emotion when thinking how everything can be so perfect!

The streets are emptier due to the weather. Many people are at the mall, or taking a look at the Thanksgiving offers. Here, everything is like that. Everything is decorated according to the holiday. So, we see tablecloths with pumpkin figures, or other decorations, all in the brownish-yellow tone of the leaves.

At the beginning of my life here, all of this enchanted me a lot. Today it has become more routine. I prefer to drive, stop, take pictures than to go into stores. Enjoy the silence, listening to music and looking at the landscape.

Yesterday I found a CD that my daughter recorded and gave me as a gift on Easter many years ago. I no longer remembered which songs she had recorded, but I remember that I chose them, and took the CD with me on my walk.

Suddenly, I was near Swaim Park, that light rain, looking at that beautiful nature; I stopped my car, but couldn’t get out because of the rain. And “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong starts playing, one of the songs I had chosen.

Have you ever thought of a perfect moment? That was it. Me, looking at that beauty, a beautiful mix of colors, the leaves forming carpets on the ground, and that music playing. It was a Kodak moment, as they say, worthy of a photo. But that photo should have been taken from inside me, from my heart, to photograph at that moment the great feeling of love and gratitude that invaded me.

End of Sunday and I also remembered the time when I worked in Brazil, and at night the little tune of Fantástico preparing us for the next day when life began again. How I like this beginning! As Aristotle said, Monday can be seen not only as a moment to seek balance between work and leisure but also to cultivate virtues such as courage and patience.

On the way back, stopping in front of the house, I spent a few minutes in the car thinking that life is a journey of ups and downs, but it is in perfect moments that we find the true beauty of existence.

Cheers!             

*Mary Fioratti*

OUR EYES

our eyes speak
in pure silence
full of words
guessing the thoughts
assuming moments
stripping themselves naked of fear

our eyes save
so many unforgettable moments
recorded in the retina
stamped on the soul
perpetuated in the joys
of a daily routine

our eyes are twins
in intuition, in feeling
in capturing the right moment
in caring for each other
in sensing danger
in the joy of reunion

our eyes can see
each other even at a distance
they are so transparent and true
that even closed , by sensing the soul
they are tireless guardians
of our love

Mary Fioratti


(This poem is dedicated to my husband)

SIAMESE

these eyes that follow me on all my journeys
with an endless care
and never loses sight of a single stir
I make

these extended hands
so solicitous
surround and protect me
rubbing ointment on my wounds
and tenderly…caress me

this voice, so rhythmic
that calms me in time of distress
that sings me serenity
that rocks me to sleep
and silences when I need

and in the crowd
when thousands of people surround me
I still can see your eyes
between the small available spaces
caring for my steps

you are my shadow
my most sincere and declared love
my all time care
and, in the morning when I kiss you and you leave
our souls go to their separate destiny

(but as conjoined twins
connected like an imaginary wire
of pure certainty)

Mary Fioratti

WISDOM OF LIFE

(An encounter with the soul)

Today I was thinking about the coincidences of life. These coincidences that God is laughing behind out backs because “we believe they are coincidences”.

A person we encounter in our path. A new job. A situation that is not expected. Even defeat in something the brings us a lesson we will understand later.

Everything that happens in our life has a purpose. God often shows life in a different way, not always in the most attractive one.

Have you ever notice that many times, when we are thinking of someone and that person call us? Or we meet her in the street? Or she write to us?

God mysteriously draws our path…and through these paths give us wonderful lessons, we’ll only understand afterwards.

I’m beginning to understand better life’s mystery. I have always worried excessively about everything: my daughter’s education, job, family, my friends. I thought I had control of everything, and only I could make the world happy. And when this didn’t happen, I suffered a lot and even blamed myself.
“I could have done this…”Ah! If I had said that…!”

Time has taught me so much! The years are adding up and, with it, we seek constantly for an inner truth that is always there, but not awaken. We want food for the soul. We want to pass all those lessons.

I realize now, with so much depth and confidence, that all of us in this life are in a boat. This boat is commanded by a Higher Hand. And we have to believe!

We must rely on this boat as it maneuvers. In the Grater Hand that stretches toward us when we need It. We often don’t understand when a job doesn’t work, or why that trip didn’t happen. We don’t realize why a business deal didn’t work, and we get frustrated.

However, God’s Hands guide and direct our lives according to what we need to learn, and this learning is endless. The lesson are presented daily in our life when we have to deal with people, to train our humility.

Today I feel this gradual change, a great confidence in myself. A sureness that nothing in this world can be changed according to our desire. That I do not have the power to control everything.

Through lesson we receive each day, we have to become better, and more confident.

We must love our lives above all. To notice the little things that are drawn in our lives. To feel the world in a unique way, as if today is the last day of our life.

I remember well when I was in a car accident in 1971. It was an accident that left a scar in my forehead, but I could have died that day. It was after a ball. I was sitting in the front seat and with the impact I went through the windshield and end up on top of the car in front. After that accident, I remember when I was in the streets and felt a great happiness to be alive and to be able to see and feel everything…

I am a person who loves to feel life, but mainly, I’m going to tell you some things that I have felt:

There are children in the USA that, at summertime, place a small table on the sidewalk, in front of their houses and sell lemonade. For them, if someone stops to buy a glass, it’s the “highlight” of their day. I always stop to buy and have fun with their behavior. I slow down the car and watch one child elbowing the other, as if to say: “Let’s do business!”..so, I ask for a glass…and drink slowly…and they look at each other…they charge 10, 20 or 25 cents. So I take a sip and say: “Wow, that’s worth much more than those nickels you are charging!” I give two dollars and say: “Keep the change”. They run into the house screaming: “Mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”… and I laugh….



-There is a little truck selling ice cream going through the streets playing a little music…




I love watching the children’s faces when they come running out of their houses, attracted by the music, with cash in their hands, wearing a happy expression on their young faces.

-an old man smile…



In his smile, so many meanings. Every wrinkly on his face, a story. I read a lesson in that smile, so as pass me a message: “Hey…come here…I’ll tell you a story - Life is worth it”.

When overnight a flower blooms and come to show us that life recycles. That today may not be what you hopped for, but tomorrow will always bring a surprise.




Sometimes we feel this way: closed as a flower bud.

And the next day, blossoming and opened to life. Like bright red roses.

Isn’t life beautiful? I learned that everything in life passes. When we go through a bad time, we must remember that it will pass, like so many things we went through and became only memories.

Over time we realize how important is to nourish our soul. And this blossoming means to face weaknesses and learn from them.

While fighting against ageing, noticing the changes in our body, face (because age doesn’t forgive) we notice also that, what becomes stronger is our inner truth. Those truths, over time become the strong structure of our being, and at one point, seems indestructible. They are fed with by our strength. Settle in our faith.

Learn, always learn from all the little lessons we have daily. To enrich ourselves with wisdom, mainly from those who have an undeniable baggage of knowledge.
I was finishing this post when I received, from a special friend, this thought. I found it very beautiful and profound and I think it has a lot to do the way I feel. Tony Snow was a journalist from Channel 3 (FOX). He was press secretary for President George W. Bush. He retired he got sick and died 3 years ago. A great loss, a brilliant man.

“The art of being sick is not the same as the art of getting well. Some cancer patients recover; some don’t. But the ordeal of facing your mortality and feeling your frailty sharpens your perspective about life. You appreciate little things more ferociously. You grasp the mystical power of love. You feel the gravitational pull of faith. And you realize you have received a unique gist – a field of vision other’s don’t have about the power of hope and the limits of fear; a firm set of convictions about what really matters and what does not. You also feel obliged to share these insights – the most important of which is this: There are things far worse than illness – for instance, soulnessness.”


Mary Fioratti