Wikipedia says that Panismo consists of “a very profound idea about the outside world (especially relating to natural landscapes) that creates a fusion between the natural elements and those which are more specifically human. It derives from the name Pan, Greek god of nature, but from the moment one presupposes a pantheist conception of the divine, it can also be derived from the Ancient Greek word πάν (pàn), which means “everything,” from which the same terminology for god originates.”
Well, in Le Marche there are corners where it is possible to grabbed hold of by that very feeling; after all, what better place is there than a “possible paradise” as the setting for the complete fusion between man and nature? A walk along the overhanging rock of the promontory of Mount Conero, a path among the countryside of Montefeltro, the limitless horizon of the Sibillini Mountains; there are plenty of reasons to leave the tablets, the smartphones and all of our defences at home, and remember that we are part of a much larger whole.
But a paradise that respects itself knows no limits; it does not define its space. A self-respecting paradise is an open field that looks out over the sea, like the ancient fields of England. Wikipedia says, “In open fields the plots of each farmer are not only not separated by hedgerows, but decisions about the cultivation of each zone are made communally among the neighbours, in the respect of the traditions.” It’s for this reason that Paradise Possible squints its eyes and tracks down distant territories like Western Ireland, Cornwall and Cumbria, following the call of Panismo, which embraces every object and makes certain parts of the world a treasure to discover. But at the same time, you should also look closer to home, until you lightly touch the nearby regions with the tip of your nose, like Umbria or Tuscany, where the Art & Tourism fair took place last May. Paradise Possible’s stand at the fair was a wonderful metaphor: a steady stream of people ready to discover, understand and marvel; there were handshakes, intertwining of stories and passions, and generous smiles. A panorama made up of people who travel and give life to that which surrounds them, in turn drawing life from their surroundings. Because it continues to be the humanity of people that make the difference.
A man can be destroyed, but not defeated
E. H. Hemingway said in The Old Man and the Sea: ideas cannot die; hope cannot perish. Paradise Possible works towards openness; it dreams and makes deals with nearby and distant regions, where visitors can meet up again, recognising along the way the continuous thread of social similarities, cultural richness and astonishing nature. And where, perhaps, one could go in search of the wind and really find oneself, repositioning oneself in the natural world, from which a certain kind of degenerate modernity all too often moves further and further away. We need the sea — oh how we need the sea! — in order to reconnect to nature. Whether it be the Adriatic, or the seas found off Ireland, Cumbria or Cornwall, matters little. We need to fight on equal terms with our marlin, to let it show us our true colours, just like the solitary Santiago, the protagonist of the Hemingway novel. And we must return to the shores, attracted by a lighthouse and with a suitcase full of dreams.
The Paradise Trotter