10 small things to think about when you're feeling sad
Well-being — di Stefano Carnazzi
Sadness, like a passing ailment, needs to be treated. But not by suppressing its symptoms. It must be welcomed, accepted, even savoured.

Sadness, like a passing ailment, needs to be treated. But not by suppressing its symptoms. It must be welcomed, accepted, even savoured.
No coercion, no medicine, no forcing of one's own mood. Every moment of joy is followed, like a wave, by one of shadow. Like sadness. There is no need to force yourself to laugh or to seek company during such times. But it can be useful to notice a few small details and linger over them, to appreciate them more fully, to let their healing virtues unfold. Here are some things that, like "homoeopathic pills", can stir something within us. Stimulating your own capacity to react will lead to a more lasting sense of serenity.

A little chime of attention, a fleeting thought, an orange glow against a grey background. "Just to say I miss you", "a thousand kisses", "I can't call you, I'm thinking of you". It's not a phone call, it's not a letter, but a light, delicate and sharp way of thinking of one another, of scattering sparks of thought. Especially when it's sent at a moment you don't expect, when you can't reply, or when you thought it couldn't even be sent.

Is it sad to contemplate a winter panorama? Or is it the prompt for new colours to arise within us? Baudelaire spoke of a sky "sad and beautiful", Byron adored windswept cliffs, and Foscolo in 1816, in the Ultime lettere di Jacopo Ortis, exclaimed before an evening landscape: "S'io fossi pittore! che ricca materia al mio pennello! L'artista immerso nella idea deliziosa del bello addormenta o mitiga almeno tutte le altre passioni… Una fonte inesausta di piacere, per consolarmi, ed io la ho guardata sovente con indifferenza". And as Mahmud Shabestari wrote in the 13th century, "know that the whole world is a mirror".

Music has a proven therapeutic function. When it comes to sadness, there are two currents. The one that leads to escape is the exciting, mystical, hypnotic journey of LifeGate Radio and of Giacomo De Poli (listen to and download his festive playlist made for Cose Belle Magazine) — instrumental, barely whispered, in English: because the words don't matter, what matters is being drawn in, taken on board and carried away. The other current is Italian music. The entire canon of human emotions has already been set to verse in the history of music. You just need to choose your favourite artist or the songs you know, or in which you recognise yourself. To be sung (even alone).

Cartoons from childhood reconnect you with the most carefree period of your life. Animated feature films let you live in a fairy-tale world. Computer-animated ones captivate you, so sophisticated are they and so rich in details to marvel at. Comics also fall into this category: recommended are the classic Disney stories by Carl Barks and Floyd Gottfredson, the Peanuts, Calvin & Hobbes strips, and, for animal lovers, Mutts.

The process of associating graphic symbols with abstract concepts activates the prefrontal cortex in our brain. This is the area responsible for cognitive behaviour, learning, decision-making processes, social moderation, and the orchestration of thoughts and actions. It becomes animated when we draw and learn, is involved in emotional responses, and is connected to our personality. And yet it is also the area that, in cases of depression, declines the most — tending to switch off. Perhaps that is why reigniting it with a series of pleasant figurative associations connected to the idea of a feeling (discovering the shape of a heart in pebbles, in shoots, in blades of grass and in sticks of cinnamon) brings such a delicious and subtle relief, making us smile inside.

It doesn't matter whether you're with someone or alone. You can treat it as a reward for a day that went wrong, or, if you can, slip straight into it. Your own bed is the last bastion, the last refuge, the den outside which predators prowl but inside which you feel sheltered. Even better if it has freshly laundered sheets; plenty of pillows; a duvet; a four-poster with the curtains drawn and closed. You can wrap yourself in silence, read a book, listen to music. If you fall asleep, on waking you also get to savour that evanescent state of grace — just a few minutes long — in which all your problems seem far away.

Fire has been keeping us company for around 400,000 years. It seems like a living being. You can watch it as it licks, tastes and wraps itself around its meal — the logs of wood — like an animal; it is fascinating. It speaks, it crackles, it keeps you company, warms and reassures you. It kindly fills the moments of silence that might otherwise be awkward. It paints the entire room in vivid brushstrokes, and is a primordial element of gathering and conviviality. In every ideal painting there is always a fire holding pride of place in the background, alongside rugs, cushions and a glass of pale straw-coloured muscat.

It's all goodness here — the snap when you break the bar, the sweetness that melts between your fingers or in a bain-marie for half an hour to make hot chocolate. Half an hour to look forward to a pleasure backed by scientific research that attributes a myriad of beneficial effects to cocoa. It provides fat-soluble vitamins (vitamin A, E, D); it supplies particular classes of polyphenols, flavonoids, powerful antioxidants that reduce the risk of heart disease and slow the ageing process; stearic acid — in cocoa butter — has proved to be a potent preventive agent against microclots in the coronary arteries; theobromine combined with the action of complex carbohydrates (such as starch in bread) increases the concentration of serotonin in the brain, perceived as a sensation of pleasure and energy. A new finding was presented by the Neuroscience Institute of San Diego: the fatty acids in chocolate are capable of inducing the production of endogenous cannabinoid compounds (similar, that is, to cannabis, but produced by our own body). Both white chocolate (which contains only cocoa butter) and milk chocolate are less effective than dark, black, bitter chocolate.
She didn't make it. She had everything going for her, this little one who had fallen from the roof of a dog shelter; born paraplegic, then swept away by FIP, another nasty feline disease. But she didn't much mind, because she was always in good spirits. "My little Tamari isn't well – writes Roberta Marino, director of an animal welfare association, on Facebook – she has an infection in one of her two paralysed little paws, a kidney infection, she's anaemic and jaundiced… She was born (perhaps) already paraplegic but with a great desire to live and play. We tried to give her a chance and lots of friends in a home. At first she drove us mad, filling the house with poo and wee, and we couldn't wait to put a nappy on her… We used to say 'as soon as she gets a bit bigger we'll put a nappy on her, at least that problem will be sorted, and maybe we can even let her up on the bed'". She never made it onto that big bed. But the spontaneous, natural strength with which a little creature faces life at every moment, without a care in the world, will serve as an example to us.
"Ok, there's always a tomorrow". Sunsets have the unique power to remind us that every day has an ending, but also the promise of a new beginning. The majestic palette of colours that paints the sky at dusk can transform moments of sadness into a profound reflection on the beauty and transience of life. Pausing to watch how the sun disappears below the horizon, making way for the night, is a simple yet powerful reminder that, despite the challenges and dark moments, the light will shine again.
On this journey through small but meaningful consolations, we have explored how simple moments, thoughts and objects can become sources of comfort during periods of sadness. Let us remember that beauty and hope are often hidden in the smallest and most unexpected details of life.
Through unexpected messages, winter landscapes, familiar melodies, childhood memories, symbols of love, the warmth of a blanket, the glow of a fire, the taste of chocolate, the inspiration of a small creature or the miracle of a sunset, we can find fleeting glimpses of happiness. These little "homoeopathic pills" for the soul remind us that the capacity to react and find serenity lies within us, ready to be awakened by a simple shift in perspective. Sadness, like all emotions, is transient and carries with it the opportunity for personal growth and inner renewal.