A few days ago, I read in the newspaper about another case of a 22-year-old girl being stabbed. She was stabbed because she was listening to music at too high a volume, annoying her attacker.

Recently, several similar incidents have been reported in the media, all involving young people and all for trivial reasons. Some were for looking too long at the girl of their dreams, others for a slightly risqué compliment, etc.

Unfortunately, many young people these days attack their peers with knives they carry with them. 

It should be noted that, like all objects, knives do not only have a negative value. They are used in the kitchen, for work; in the hands of a skilled chef, they become something precious. 

In primitive societies, they were used to defend against animals and enemies.

Today, in the world of young people and beyond, if we think of the numerous cases of femicide where women are killed with unprecedented ferocity, it seems to be becoming a kind of status symbol.

This tool is perceived as a sign of toughness and strength, especially among young people who feel marginalised. 

The episodes of violence that occur between two individuals have no valid reasons, but the spark that triggers them is a trivial, sometimes frivolous motive.

Often, the use of knives – weapons that are easy to obtain – is inherent in individuals associated with youth gangs, in order to  become part of them and become affiliated. Here, it is as if this object could be a 'magic wand' against feelings of inner malaise and emotional and social disappointments. And this weapon would make us feel invincible, or perhaps just stronger. 

Except for professionals, getting used to carrying a weapon with us can have repercussions on our way of being. We get used to it, and we may increasingly tend towards episodes of aggression towards others. 

Leaving the house and carrying a knife with us - sooner or later, at the slightest provocation, we are tempted to use it, thus fuelling fear and increasing the likelihood of becoming a victim ourselves. In the long run, our psyche 'brings out' aspects of ourselves that may have been 'dormant' in hidden corners of our unconsciousness.

The individual ends up engaging in antisocial behaviour. And in the many goals they try to achieve, this behaviour can sometimes be harmful to themselves.

These are individuals who have a normal intellectual level, sometimes even above average.

In my experience of similar cases, referred by the Juvenile Court to the Child Neuropsychiatry Service, episodes of knife violence were associated with a low intellectual level.

These individuals often encounter failure in every initiative they take, thus increasing their sense of frustration.

They generally tend to lie and often exploit others, giving little importance to moral values.

They habitually almost never tell the truth, even when they make a promise (which they usually do not keep), showing no distress and coldly maintaining their positions.

They may be influenced by films and ancestral cultures, which can reinforce their inclination to use such weapons, without being aware of the possible consequences and the potential escalation of violence. 

We 'young people of the past' were taught and passed on the ability to react constructively to the difficulties and humiliations that life inevitably brings. 

Today, however, it seems that everything is owed to us, that deprivation of anything in this excess of well-being is unbearable. 

And so, especially in emotionally unstable individuals, something triggers them to do harm; we are moving towards an insane, sick aggression. Not towards that 'healthy determination' that helps us overcome life's obstacles.

I have often heard from people who came before me, and perhaps also from some reading that I now cannot remember, that the most cruel beast is man. Two souls lurk in his heart: one made of sociability and a drive towards others, the other of jealousy and rivalry, of cruelty towards others.

People with these issues tend to be dishonest, to lie and deceive others, to try to exploit them, forgetting the moral principles they have learned.

These people always consider themselves 'the best'. If this is not perceived, anger rises - consciously or unconsciously.

When they cause harm, they feel no remorse and no guilt.

The line between what is legal and what is not becomes blurred. We tend to act impulsively, without considering the effect of our actions on others.

As a result, we sink lower and lower. We believe that others are only there to help us get what we want.

Often, violent or even sadistic behaviour is associated with a certain pleasure.

And here we also tend to participate in clashes with 'power'.

On a collective level, just look at the recent events in Turin, where violence is directed at law enforcement officers, those who represent the rules and seek to restore legality.

Without adhering to any ideology, I am personally convinced, leaving aside party politics, that limits must be restored from childhood. In this way, a child can grow up with a clear distinction between what is good and what is evil.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, Psychologist-Psychotherapist.

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A) [8 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! We are approaching Lent. Let us begin to prepare ourselves spiritually. After the sixth Sunday, on 15 February, we will enter Lent.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (58:7-10)

At first glance, this text might seem like a nice moral lesson, which would already be something. In reality, however, it says much more. The context is that of the end of the 6th century BC: the return from exile has taken place, but deep wounds remain, 'the devastation of the past' and ruins to be rebuilt. In Jerusalem, religious practice has been re-established and, in good faith, people are trying to please God. However, the prophet has a delicate message to convey: the worship that pleases God is not what the people imagine. The fasts are spectacular, but daily life is marked by quarrels, violence and greed. For this reason, Isaiah denounces a worship that claims to obtain God's favour without conversion of heart: 'You fast for strife and self-defeating arguments... Is this the fast that I choose?' (Isaiah 58:4-5).

We are faced with one of the strongest texts in the Old Testament, which shakes our ideas about God and religion and answers with great clarity a fundamental question: what does God expect of us? These few biblical verses are the fruit of a long maturation in the faith of Israel. From Abraham onwards, people sought what pleased God: first human sacrifices, then animal sacrifices, then fasting, offerings and prayers. But throughout this history, the prophets never ceased to remind the people that true worship cannot be separated from the daily life of the Covenant. This is why Isaiah proclaims: the fast that God desires is to loose the chains of injustice, to free the oppressed, to break every yoke. In God's eyes, every gesture that frees a brother or sister is worth more than the most austere fast. This is followed by a list of concrete actions: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the homeless poor, clothing the naked, and helping all human misery. It is here that the truth of faith is measured. Three observations conclude the message: First, these actions are an imitation of God's own work, which Israel has always experienced as liberating and merciful. Human beings are truly called to be the image of God, and the way they treat others reveals their relationship with Him. Second: when Isaiah promises 'the glory of the Lord' (v. 8) to those who care for the poor, he is not speaking of an external reward, but of a reality: those who act like God reflect His presence, becoming light in the darkness, because 'where there is love, there is God'. Thirdly, every gesture of justice, liberation and sharing is a step towards the Kingdom of God, that Kingdom of justice and love that the Old Testament awaits and that the Gospel of the Beatitudes presents as being built day by day by the meek, the peaceful and those who hunger for justice.

*Responsorial Psalm (111/112)

Every year, during the Feast of Tabernacles, a feast that still lasts a week in autumn, the whole people made what we might call their "profession of faith": they renewed their Covenant with God and recommitted themselves to respecting the Law. Psalm 111/112 was certainly sung on this occasion. The entire psalm is in itself a short treatise on life in the Covenant: to understand it better, you have to read it from the beginning. I will read you the first verse: 'Hallelujah! Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart!'. First of all, the psalm begins with the word Hallelujah, literally "Praise God," which is the key word of believers: when the man of the Bible invites us to praise God, it is precisely because of the gift of the Covenant. Then, this psalm is an alphabetical psalm: that is, it contains twenty-two verses, as many as there are letters in the Hebrew alphabet; the first word of each verse begins with a letter of the alphabet in alphabetical order. It is a way of affirming that the Covenant with God concerns the whole of man's life and that God's Law is the only path to happiness for the whole of existence, from A to Z. Finally, the first verse begins with the word 'blessed', addressed to the man who knows how to remain on the path of the Covenant. This immediately brings to mind the Gospel of the Beatitudes, which echoes the same term 'blessed': Jesus uses a word here that is very common in the Bible, but which unfortunately our English translation does not fully convey. In his commentary on the Psalms, André Chouraqui observed that the Hebrew root of this word (blessed is the man Ashrê hā'îsh) has as its fundamental meaning the path, the man's steps on the unobstructed road that leads to the Lord. It is therefore 'less about happiness than about the path that leads to it'. For this reason, Chouraqui himself translated 'Blessed' as 'On the way', implying: you are on the right path, continue. Generally, in the Bible, the word 'blessed' does not stand alone: it is contrasted with its opposite 'unhappy' (blessed is barùk and cursed is 'arūr). The general idea is that in life there are false paths to avoid; some choices or behaviours lead to good, others, on the contrary, lead only to unhappiness. And if we read the entire psalm, we realise that it is constructed in this way. Even the better-known Psalm 1 is structured in the same way: first it describes the good paths, the path to happiness, and only briefly the bad ones, because they are not worth dwelling on. Here, the good choice is already indicated in the first verse: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!'. We find this expression frequently in the Old Testament: the 'fear of God'. Unfortunately, in the liturgical reading, the second part of the verse is missing; I will read it to you in its entirety: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart.' Here, then, is a definition of 'fear of God': it is love of his will, because one acts in trust. The fear of the Lord is not fear in a negative sense: in fact, a little further on, another verse makes this clear: "The righteous man... trusts in the Lord. His heart is secure" (vv. 7-8). The "fear of God" in the biblical sense is both an awareness of God's holiness, a recognition of all that He does for man and, since He is our Creator, a concern to obey Him: only He knows what is good for us. It is a filial attitude of respect and trusting obedience. Israel thus discovers two truths: God is the All-Other, but He also makes Himself All-Near. He is infinitely powerful, but this power is that of love. We have nothing to fear, because He can and wants our happiness! In Psalm 102/103 we read: "As a father's compassion is toward his children, so the Lord's compassion is toward those who fear Him." To fear the Lord means to have a respectful and trusting attitude toward Him. It also means "to lean on Him." This is the right attitude towards God, the one that puts man on the right path: "Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!" And this is also the right attitude towards others: "The righteous man, merciful, compassionate and just... he gives generously to the poor" (vv. 4, 8). The previous psalm (110/111), very similar to this one, uses the same words "justice, tenderness and mercy" for God and for man. Daily observance of the Law, in everyday life, from A to Z, as symbolised by the alphabet of the psalm, shapes us in God's likeness. I say likeness, because the psalmist reminds us that the Lord remains the All-Other: the formulas are not identical. For God, it is said that He is justice, tenderness and mercy, while for man, the psalmist says "he is a man of justice, tenderness and mercy", that is, these are virtues that he practises, not his intrinsic being. These virtues come from God, and man reflects them in some way. And because his actions are in the image of God, the righteous man becomes a light for others: 'he springs up in the darkness, a light for the upright' (v. 4). Here we hear an echo of the first reading from the prophet Isaiah: 'Share your bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into your house, clothe the naked... then your light will rise like the dawn' (58:7). When we give and share, we are more in the image of God, who is pure gift. To the extent that we are able, we reflect his light.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (2:1-5)

 Saint Paul, as he often does, proceeds by contrasts: the first contrast is that the mystery of God is completely different from the wisdom of men; the second contrast concerns the language of the apostle who proclaims the mystery, which is very different from beautiful human speech and eloquence. Let us take up these two contrasts: the mystery of God / human wisdom; Christian language / eloquence or oratory. First contrast: the mystery of God or human wisdom. Paul says that he came 'to proclaim the mystery of God'; by mystery we mean God's 'merciful plan', which will be developed later in the Letter to the Ephesians (Eph 1:3-14): this plan is to make humanity a perfect communion of love around Jesus Christ, founded on the values of love, mutual service, gift and forgiveness. Jesus already puts this into practice throughout his earthly life. We are therefore very far from the idea of a powerful God in the military sense, as some sometimes imagine. This mystery of God is realised through a 'crucified Messiah', which is completely contrary to human logic, almost a paradox. Paul affirms that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, but not as expected: he was not expected to be crucified; according to our logic, the crucifixion seemed to prove the opposite, because everyone remembered a famous phrase from Deuteronomy: whoever was condemned to death by the law was considered cursed by God (Dt 21:22-23). Yet, this plan of the almighty God is nothing less than Jesus Christ, as Paul says. In witnessing to his faith, Paul has nothing to proclaim but Jesus Christ: He is the centre of human history, of God's plan and of his faith. He wants to know nothing else: "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ." Behind this phrase we can glimpse the difficulties of resisting the pressures, insults and persecutions already present. This crucified Messiah shows us true wisdom, the wisdom of God: gift and forgiveness, rejection of violence... the whole message of the Gospel of the Beatitudes. In the face of this divine wisdom, human wisdom is reasoning, persuasion, strength and power; this wisdom cannot understand the message of the Gospel. In fact, Paul experienced failure in Athens, the centre of philosophy (Acts 17:16-34). Second opposition: the language of the preacher or the art of oratory. Paul makes no claim to eloquence: this already reassures us, if we are not skilled orators. But he goes further: for him, eloquence, oratory, and the ability to persuade are actually obstacles, incompatible with the message of the Gospel. Proclaiming the Gospel does not mean showing off knowledge or imposing arguments. It is interesting to note that the word 'convince' contains the word 'win': perhaps we are in the wrong place if we think we are proclaiming the religion of Love. Faith, like love, cannot be persuaded... Try to convince someone to love you: love cannot be demonstrated, it cannot be reasoned. The same is true of the mystery of God: it can only be penetrated gradually. The mystery of a poor Messiah, a Messiah-Servant, a crucified Messiah, cannot be proclaimed by means of power: that would be the opposite of the mystery itself! It is in poverty that the Gospel is proclaimed: this should give us courage! The poor Messiah can only be proclaimed by poor means; the Messiah-Servant only by servants. Do not worry if you are not a great speaker: our poverty of language is the only one compatible with the Gospel. Paul goes further and even says that our poverty is a necessary condition for preaching: it leaves room for God's action. It is not Paul who convinces the Corinthians, but the Spirit of God, who gives preaching the power of truth, enabling Christ to be discovered. It follows that it is not the power of our reasoning that convinces: faith is not based on human wisdom, but on the power of the Spirit of God. We can only lend him our voice. Obviously, as with Paul, this requires an enormous act of faith: It was in my weakness, trembling and fearful, that I came to you. My language, my preaching had nothing to do with convincing wisdom; but the Spirit and his power were manifested, so that your faith might not be based on human wisdom, but on the power of God. When it seems that the circle of believers is shrinking, when we dream of powerful media, electronic or financial tools, it is good for us to feel that the proclamation of the Gospel is best suited to poor means. But to accept this, we must admit that the Holy Spirit is the best preacher, and that the witness of our poverty is the best preaching.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:13-16)

If a lamp is beautiful, that is better, but it is not the most important thing! What is required first and foremost is that it gives light, because if it does not give good light, nothing can be seen. As for salt, its vocation is to disappear while performing its task: if it is missing, the dish will be less tasty. On closer inspection, salt and light do not exist for their own sake. Jesus says to his disciples: 'You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world': what matters is the earth, the world; salt and light matter only in relation to the earth and the world! By telling his disciples that they are salt and light, Jesus puts them in a missionary situation: you who receive my words become, for this very reason, salt and light for the world: your presence is indispensable. In other words, the Church exists only to evangelise the world. This puts us in our place! The Bible already reminded the people of Israel that they were the chosen people, but at the service of the world; this lesson also applies to us. Returning to salt and light: one may ask what the two elements to which Jesus compares his disciples have in common. We can answer that both are revelatory: salt enhances the flavour of food, light reveals the beauty of people and the world. Food exists before it receives salt; the world and beings exist before they are illuminated. This tells us a lot about the mission that Jesus entrusts to his disciples, to us: no one needs us in order to exist, but we have a specific role to play. Salt of the earth: we are here to reveal to people the flavour of their lives. People do not wait for us to perform acts of love and sharing, which are sometimes wonderful. Evangelising means saying that the Kingdom is among you, in every gesture, in every word of love, and "where there is love, there is God." Light of the world: we are here to enhance the beauty of this world. It is the gaze of love that reveals the true face of people and things. The Holy Spirit has been given to us precisely to be in tune with every gesture or word that comes from Him. But this can only happen with discretion and humility. Too much salt ruins the taste of food; too strong a light crushes what it wants to illuminate. To be salt and light, one must love deeply, truly love. Today's readings repeat this to us in different but consistent ways. Evangelisation is not a conquest; the New Evangelisation is not a reconquest. The proclamation of the Gospel takes place only in the presence of love. Let us remember Paul's warning to the Corinthians in the second reading: only the poor and the humble can preach the Kingdom. This presence of love can be very demanding, as the first reading shows: the connection between Isaiah and the Gospel is very significant. To be the light of the world means to be at the service of our brothers and sisters; Isaiah is concrete: sharing bread or clothing, breaking down all obstacles that impede human freedom. This Sunday's Psalm also says the same thing: 'the righteous man', that is, the one who generously shares his riches, is a light for others. Through his words and gestures of love, others will discover the source of all love: as Jesus says. Seeing the good that the disciples do, people will give glory to the Father in heaven, that is, they will discover that God's plan for humanity is a plan of peace and justice. On the contrary, how can people believe in God's plan of love if we, his ambassadors, do not multiply the gestures of solidarity and justice that society requires? Salt is always in danger of losing its flavour: it is easy to forget the powerful words of the prophet Isaiah, heard in the first reading; and it is no coincidence that the liturgy offers them to us just before the beginning of Lent, a time when we will reflect on what kind of fasting God prefers. One last observation: today's Gospel (salt and light) immediately follows the proclamation of the Beatitudes in Matthew last Sunday. There is therefore a link between the two passages, which can illuminate each other. Perhaps the best way to be salt and light is to live according to the spirit of the Beatitudes, that is, in opposition to the spirit of the world: to accept humility, gentleness, purity, justice; to be peacemakers in all circumstances; and, above all, to accept poverty and lack, with a single goal: 'so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven'. Additions: According to the Second Vatican Council document on the Church, Lumen Gentium, we are not the true light of the world; Jesus Christ is. By telling his disciples that they are light, Jesus reveals that it is God himself who shines through them, because in Scripture, as in the Council, it is always made clear that all light comes from God.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Presentation of Jesus at the Temple [2 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is also a brief commentary on the texts of the liturgy for the feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi (3:1-4)

Malachi's text was written in a context of crisis: there was no longer a Davidic king, the people were subjugated by the Persians, and authority was in the hands of the priests. For this reason, the prophet insists on the covenant with the Levites, recalling its divine origin and denouncing its present corruption. The central announcement is the imminent coming of the Lord to his temple, also called the Angel of the Covenant: not a simple messenger, but God himself who comes to re-establish the Covenant. This coming is both desired and feared, because it is a coming of judgement that purifies: it does not destroy man, but eliminates the evil that is in him. Before this coming, God sends a messenger who prepares the way by calling for conversion. The New Testament will recognise John the Baptist as this precursor and Jesus himself as the Angel of the Covenant announced by Malachi. The message remains relevant today: God enters his temple to renew the Covenant, purify worship and lead his people back to fidelity of heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (23/24, 7, 8, 9, 10)

The poetic expression "Lift up your heads, O gates" (v. 9) is a hyperbole that celebrates the majesty of the "King of Glory," that is, God himself, who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The gates do not simply open: they are lifted up, as if the building itself had to become larger to accommodate the divine presence. The psalm refers to the solemn dedication of the first Temple by Solomon (around 950 BC), when the Ark of the Covenant was carried in procession to the Holy City, accompanied by singing, music and sacrifices. The Ark, placed in the Holy of Holies under the wings of the cherubim, represented the invisible throne of God in the midst of his people. The cherubim, far from the imagery of little angels, were majestic and symbolic figures, a sign of divine sovereignty. The psalm seems to be structured as a liturgical dialogue between two choirs: one invites the gates to open, the other proclaims the identity of the king of glory as the strong and victorious Lord. The warrior titles remind us that God accompanied Israel in its struggles for freedom and survival: the Ark was the sign of his presence in the people's battles. Even after the disappearance of the Ark, especially after the Babylonian Exile, this psalm continued to be sung in the Temple. It was precisely the absence of the Ark that increased its spiritual value: Israel learned that God's presence is not tied to an object, however sacred and laden with memory. Over the centuries, the psalm took on a messianic meaning: the invocation 'let the King of glory enter' became an expression of the expectation of the Messiah, the definitive king who would defeat evil and inaugurate a renewed humanity. The 'Lord of hosts' came to be understood progressively as the God of the universe, no longer just the God of Israel but the Lord of all humanity. This is why the Christian liturgy sings this psalm on the feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple: it is a profession of faith that recognises in that child the true king of glory, God himself who enters his Temple and comes to meet his people.

*Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (2:14-18)

The Letter to the Hebrews was written in a climate of controversy: Christians of Jewish origin were accused of following a Messiah who could not be a priest according to the Law. The author responds by showing that Jesus fulfils the priesthood in a new and definitive way. Although he does not belong to the tribe of Levi, Jesus is a priest according to the order of Melchizedek, that is, in a more ancient and universal form. He does not reproduce the priesthood of the Old Testament, but brings it to fulfilment, realising its profound purpose. Jesus is a true priest because: he is fully in solidarity with humanity, sharing its weakness, suffering and death; he is in full communion with God, as his resurrection demonstrates; he re-establishes the Covenant, freeing humanity from fear and the slavery of death. Salvation is offered to all, but it concerns in particular the 'children of Abraham', that is, those who live in faith as trust. The Covenant is a free gift from God, but it requires a free response: to accept or reject it remains the responsibility of man.

*From the Gospel according to Saint Luke (2:22-40)

  The account of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple is constructed with great care and highlights two fundamental elements: the Law and the Spirit. In the first verses, Luke repeatedly emphasises the Law of Israel, not as a simple set of prescriptions, but as an expression of the faith and expectation of the people. Jesus' life begins within the faith of Israel: Mary and Joseph devoutly perform the prescribed gestures, placing the child within the history and hope of their people. Luke's first message is clear: the salvation of humanity is born within the Law of Israel. It is in this context that the Word of God became incarnate and that God's plan of love for humanity took shape. Immediately afterwards, Simeon enters the scene, guided by the Holy Spirit, who is also mentioned several times. It is the Spirit who reveals the identity of the child to him: Jesus is the Saviour prepared by God before all peoples. Simeon's words summarise the entire Old Testament as a long preparation for the fulfilment of salvation, which concerns not only Israel but all humanity. Israel is the 'glory' because it has been chosen as the instrument of universal salvation. The event takes place in the Temple of Jerusalem, a decisive place for Luke: here Malachi's prophecy about the Lord's sudden entry into his Temple is fulfilled. Jesus is recognised as the Angel of the Covenant, the Lord himself who comes to visit his people. The images of light and glory used by Simeon fit perfectly into this perspective. The story also recalls the Psalm of the 'king of glory': the long-awaited royal Messiah enters the Temple, not with outward power, but in the poverty of a newborn baby. Nevertheless, the scene is solemn and full of glory, because in that child is present all the expectation of Israel, represented by Simeon and Anna, figures of faithful hope. Simeon's canticle affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and the glory of God: with him, divine glory enters the Sanctuary. This means that Jesus not only brings the glory of God, but is the glory of God, is God himself present among his people. With his coming, the time of the Law reaches its fulfilment: the Angel of the Covenant has entered the Temple to give the Spirit, enlighten the nations and inaugurate the new time of universal salvation.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Obsession and Compulsion

A gentleman confides in me that for some time now he has felt the need to check whether he has locked the front door of his house. A lady, on the other hand, needs to be sure that she has turned off the gas in the kitchen.

After checking, both the gas and the front door were fine and in order.

Another middle-aged man feels the need to see if his car is okay, then he has to go and check it, walk around it, touch it in different places, and only after completing these behavioural sequences can he return home peacefully. Sometimes he feels the need to do this several times a day.

In the Treccani dictionary, the term 'obsession' is defined as: 'a mental representation that the will cannot eliminate, accompanied by anxiety'. 

The term 'compulsion' is defined as: 'compulsion, being driven by necessity to do something'.

Many people have thoughts that they have no interest in; these are often ideas that make no sense, but which require considerable mental effort.

Without wanting to, these ideas invade our minds and make our brains 'rack' as if they were fundamental issues.

These may be thoughts or images that cause concern, and are usually followed by compulsions that the person must perform to calm their anxiety. 

Between the 'fixed' idea and the need to perform some act or gesture to ensure that nothing bad happens, doubt often arises, undermining our most certain convictions.

This leads to increasing indecision, which limits our freedom of action: even simple choices take a long time to make.  

Sometimes it leads us to be unable to make a decision. The doubt may concern a thought, a memory, an action, etc., and may spill over from one content to another.

A person with these problems, when leaving the house, sometimes feels compelled to return to  make sure they have not left the light on, and to be sure, they sometimes have to do this several times.

In literature, there are examples of people who, after sending a letter, felt the need to reopen it to check what they had written.

In psychological contexts such as this, we also talk about 'rumination', which is always associated with doubt.

In biology, it refers to the digestive process of certain animals, such as cattle. Food that has been swallowed is brought back into the mouth to be chewed again, more thoroughly, and then swallowed again to complete digestion.

In psychology, 'rumination' describes repetitive and persistent thinking focused on past events, as opposed to 'brooding', which is more concerned with future events.

Ceremonials are also described. In these, the individual must perform a sequence of acts such as washing their hands frequently or cleaning everyday objects many times.

This is where an aspect of the psychological picture described comes into play: 'rupophobia' and contamination. Rupophobia is a morbid fear of dirt and of being infected. It can affect any aspect of our lives: objects, people or public places. It is an aspect that can also harm intimacy.

The Covid period has increased the fear of contagion, but this was a real event. Many years ago, around 1986, there was the Chernobyl phenomenon, and there we really had to be careful about what we ate because food, especially vegetables, could have been contaminated.

Anyone who has these ideas may count the cars in the car park while walking, or touch lampposts, or try to avoid cracks in the pavement, etc.

In severe cases, these people may feel that they are harming someone, so these thoughts make them 'back away'. They need to give themselves a 'shake' to try to dispel these terrifying ideas.

People with these characteristics are generally strict, concerned with details, and meticulous about rules and formalities. 

However, by focusing on details, they often overlook the essentials.      

How many people in their work environment feel the need to line up their objects in excessive order?      

Order and control are closely interlinked, because external order can be a way of achieving internal order, which can reduce stress. 

However, we are talking about excessive order. A minimum of order is necessary to avoid confusion and to be able to find our things.

Stuttering is also a speech disorder linked to this psychological condition.

The person who stutters struggles at the beginning, with the first letter or syllable, and repeats it until the word is finished. 

As we know, their speech is fluent when they are alone or when they recite or sing.

Otherwise, mortified by their defect, they will tend to isolate themselves and speak as little as possible. Or they will stubbornly insist on speaking with intense physical effort.

Stuttering 'is a conflict between the erotic urethral tendency to expel and the erotic-anal tendency to retain, shifted to the mouth' (Manual of Psychiatry, Arieti, vol. I, p. 353).

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, Psychologist-Psychotherapist.

A look into the «darkness».

As I have already mentioned, many poets and writers have described the flow of the human soul.

Eugenio Montale expresses this in one of his poems from 1925, on the pain of living, providing us with the image of a stream that cannot flow, a leaf crumpled by excessive heat, a horse exhausted on the ground.

These are images that linger in our minds, leaving us with food for thought and questions to ponder.

There have been moments of 'darkness' in our lives, and perhaps there will be more.

Feelings of discouragement and not knowing which path to take - each of us has experienced this first-hand.

The intensity and duration of the 'darkness' vary depending on the circumstances and our personal ability to react.

We react differently to defeat or disappointment; what upsets one person may leave another completely indifferent.

An encounter with 'darkness' can be common when faced with serious difficulties such as bereavement, loss of employment, the onset of illness, the end of a relationship, and so on.

This state of mind is temporary and ends spontaneously, without bringing about changes in a person's life.

In other cases, it is important not to underestimate this state of mind, as it could be a sign of psychosomatic or psychological distress.

In these cases, we often experience inexplicable feelings of worry and apathy, and we feel more fatigued.

Let us remember that the reaction to 'darkness' often follows a traumatic experience, which in ordinary circumstances would not have caused any temporary feelings of low mood.

A more severe and prolonged reaction, one that the individual cannot overcome on their own, is an unusual condition.

In older people, emotional shocks can trigger moments of 'darkness' more easily than in younger people.

Sometimes older people are marginalised, have fewer social relationships, and often suffer a loss of prestige, especially when they lose hope.

But even adolescents [with their precariousness] are not immune to these moments of unease.

It is not true that adolescence is a happy time of life; on the contrary, it is perhaps one of the most troubled.

In these moments of 'darkness', which clinicians call «depression», we notice that people going through this phase greatly reduce their activities, have less self-confidence, and take an interest in few things.

They are able to keep their jobs even if they have to work harder. Usually, their memory and relationship with reality are not altered - unless a serious condition («psychosis») has arisen.

Arieti describes the depression we have called 'darkness' here as a combination of sadness and pessimism.

The latter is the essential element of the combination; the unhealthy idea is to believe that what has happened to a person will always happen to them, or that their state of mind will never change.

Defeatism, the illusion of knowing what will happen to us in the future, consolidates sadness into 'darkness'.

Often the 'darkness' of the soul is discharged onto the body.

We may experience weight loss, feelings of oppression in the heart, decreased bodily secretions, insomnia, and frequent headaches.

In our behaviour towards others, 'darkness' makes us tend to exploit and influence others; it makes us  unwilling to be persuaded. We find it difficult to satisfy others, and hostility often overwhelms us.

Faber Andrew wrote a poem entitled “To those who are going through their darkness”...

The poet invites the reader to «believe in poetry. In the eyes of those who have already found that road».

Then again: «There is a sky here waiting for you, with a breathtaking panorama of dreams».

For a poet, poetry is the main road, but we who are not poets have something to believe in, and that is the pillar of our reality.

Let us always remember that when the night reaches its darkest point, the dawn of a new day begins.

Francesco Giovannozzi, psychologist and psychotherapist.

In today's society, there are many factors that cause anxiety and restlessness, and strategies to combat them are often difficult to find. 

This period is characterised by the 'shaking' of fundamental values, norms and aspirations that drove man towards fulfilment and healthy relationships with others.

The current wars around the world, the memories of them for older people, and the threat of nuclear war add to the list.

In such a hostile climate, human isolation is accentuated.

Each person has their own way of reacting: the most common is a sense of unease, anxiety, feeling in danger without knowing what the danger is; a sense of ruin, or something else.

We often fail to understand the cause of all this. People feel helpless, and if this unease is strong, it can be discharged onto the body.

Muscle stiffness may be noticed, or there may be tremors, a feeling of weakness or tiredness; even the voice may tremble.

At the cardiovascular level, palpitations, fainting, increased heart rate and increased blood pressure may occur. 

Nausea, vomiting and stomach ache may also occur in the intestines, which have no organic origin. 

There may also be other symptoms typical of each person's history, and there is no organ that cannot be affected by internal tension.

I remember that in my professional life I have met people with psychological problems that were 'discharged' in different parts of the body, sometimes in the most unimaginable places.

I have encountered alopecia (hair loss), locked limbs, visual disturbances, fainting, and more recently, teenagers who cut themselves...

If a person feels overwhelmed by a sudden wave of inner discomfort, they may react inappropriately or even dangerously (alcohol, drugs, speeding, gambling, etc.).

Understanding these disturbances, worries and anxieties is important in determining whether they are normal or not.

Unusual states of anxiety are distinguished from more or less persistent apprehension with acute crises.

These states are to be distinguished from the state of generalised worry that we find common in our daily lives.

Let us remember that in order to define our anxiety and agitation, we must convince ourselves that it is something normal when the individual feels threatened.

Agitation should be distinguished from fear, where the danger is real: the individual can assess the situation and choose whether to face it or flee.

When we talk about agitation in the normal sense, we mean that it is human nature to feel it when faced with danger, illness, etc.

It represents the deepest way of living our human existence.

It makes us face our limits and weaknesses, which are not manifestations of inner discomfort or illness, but expressions of human nature. 

The more aware we are of our limits, the better we are able to live with our anxieties.

For our fellow human beings who feel omnipotent, agitation and anxiety are unbearable, as they bring to consciousness the limits that are a wound to their 'feeling of being a superior creature'. 

We experience normal unease even when we leave an 'old road for a new one'.

From this point of view, it accompanies us in our changes, in our evolution, and in finding meaning in our lives.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, psychologist and psychotherapist

Reflections on the religious sense.

This reflection also stems from a dialogue with a gentleman of about my age.

This well known and respected gentleman in his village met an old acquaintance of his and was rebuked by the latter because he did not attend religious services; according to her, he should have done so for his own good. The gentleman replied that he did not feel this need and that it did not seem to him that his behaviour might offend the generally understood religious sense. 

Discussions like this occur often among human beings, this is nothing new. I report it because it made me reflect on the religious sense in human life. The topic touches on several disciplines and is complex.     

Studies by Fiorenzo Facchini say that various behaviours of prehistoric man are read in a religious sense. Our ancestors gave burials to their dead and painted representations on the walls.      

These caves had something sacred about them. Religious manifestations of antiquity were songs and dances.

In all religions we find a need for reassurance about our lives and also the need to find magical answers to our problems.

Bettelheim argues that on an individual level and especially in childhood, religion can provide that basis of stability and security with which the child can evolve towards autonomy.

The society in which we live forces us to run, to be in step with the times; it wants to give us its values.

Today there is the fashion of the ephemeral, of competitiveness - and so it is psychologically reassuring to believe in a 'mother-environment' that loves us, or to be within a design that gives meaning to our lives.

Unlike Freud who did not have a positive view, or the philosopher Charles Marx who claimed that religion is the opium of the people, Jung in the eleventh volume "Psychology and Religion" says verbatim:

"Since' religion is indisputably one of the first and universal expressions of the human soul [...] it is not only a sociological or historical phenomenon, but an important personal matter" (vol.XI, p.15).

In my long professional practice I have often encountered people who have had to come to terms with this issue.

The therapist's task is not to condition the other, but to clarify the underlying dynamics.

I have met people who described themselves as non-believers but who on an unconscious level had to come to terms with their dreams. Or individuals who belonged to different religions that were so rigid that they inhibited their vital sense.

In all these cases, knowledge of the human soul grew, whether they claimed to be religious or not. We are not discussing each person's philosophical position.

There were differences between the person who called himself religious and one who was not.

I would like to point out that these differences do not constitute value judgements, but only behavioural characteristics.

The religious person believes that there is a reality that is sacred and beyond this world - and that his existence is enhanced according to his belief.

He who called himself a non-believer rejected transcendence, was one who is self-made and believes that he alone constructs his own destiny.

A constant concern was to deny any reference or wisecrack that was made to religious topics.

I have even met someone who was more concerned about what my beliefs were than his personal problems. I always replied that my sphere of action was the psyche in all its manifestations. Beyond any manifestation sacred or not, respect for the person is already a sacred attitude.

"To 'desacralise' oneself completely is not easy either, as it is difficult to deny history altogether - both for those who believe in creation and those who believe in evolution.

Who knows whether evolution includes a creation?

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi Psychologist-psychotherapist