A’ cazzimma
Why would someone, who has suffered a severe motorcycle accident resulting in significant physical consequences, want to return to riding a motorcycle? Shouldn’t they harbor resentment towards a vehicle that permanently altered their life? Moreover, since obtaining a license won’t be a walk in the park, why complicate one’s life so much? I’m sure many have pondered similar questions, and, filled with doubts, I am no exception: Marco, let it go, it happened, there’s no going back. In reality, I’ve never managed to develop a hatred for motorcycles. While I may have harbored grievances toward fate, destiny, and misfortune, I’ve never pointed the finger at the motorcycle. This doesn’t mean I’ve quietly embraced my condition; quite the opposite. I live with it, sure, but I’ve never fully accepted it. So much so that, within the limits of what’s possible, I’ve tried to do the same things I did before, seeking solutions that would allow me to. Did I have a commendable history in competitive volleyball? I continued playing with one arm in a league with able-bodied players. Did I relish playing football with friends? I returned to those fields. I even learned to dance the tango despite many skeptics. In short, I tried to view myself like anyone else and never sought special treatment or privileges. Of course, it’s complicated, as there are myriad activities possible only with two hands, ranging from the trivial to the essential. Until I faced these challenges, I hadn’t fully grasped this. Admittedly, I’m slower, clumsier, and some things are and will forever remain beyond my reach. However, for all the others, I managed to find alternative solutions.
There are numerous ways to overcome an obstacle before conceding defeat: you can break it, leap over it, or simply circumvent it. It’s incredible to discover how many things you can still accomplish using perhaps your mouth, feet, or knees. But there’s a prerequisite: “a’ cazzimma.” “Cazzimma” is a term from the Neapolitan dialect with a wide range of meanings. In one sense, it can be translated as stubbornness or determination. It’s a decisive, resolute attitude, occasionally even aggressive, which disregards conventions and focuses solely on achieving a goal. You might not succeed, but at least you haven’t given up without a fight.
Returning to the motorcycle, one of the primary motivations was reconnecting with a past that was brutally swept away. But there’s more to it, involving one of those crucial aspects of life that, along with love, you absolutely cannot forfeit: freedom. The freedom to make your own choices, decide your destiny, pursue your dreams, and find reasons for daily happiness. However, freedom isn’t a free or easily attainable commodity; you must earn it. Because freedom, without the necessary determination to obtain it, is an empty shell, a term devoid of meaning. And here is where ‘a’ cazzimma’ comes into play—a steadfast determination that convinces you, Hector, even as an ordinary mortal, that you will don armor and step through the Scee gates to face an invincible demigod like Achilles, who has no use for armor. You don’t approach him with the resigned demeanor of a sacrificial victim, but with the awareness that you can emerge victorious, or at the very least, that you have given it your best effort. There’s one last thing: it’s wrong to think you can do everything alone. You need friends, allies, people to support and encourage you when things don’t go as planned. Thus, you must have the humility to ask for help because, in this world, no one saves themselves alone.
