Last night I had dinner with a colleague.
I would like to call him a friend. All the signs of intellectual and human affinity are there, but geographical distance has so far prevented us from getting to know each other more deeply.
At last, we managed to arrange a dinner together.
A very Italian ritual, and perhaps an even more Southern Italian one, as we both are.
A ritual that is essential if people are truly to get to know one another.
These are the evenings I value most: evenings in which socialising is not an obligation, nor a business meeting disguised as leisure, but a genuine moment of sharing among people who enjoy each other’s company.
For centuries, friendship developed almost naturally.
People lived and worked in the same place.
Colleagues were often neighbours as well.
After work, people would go to the café, the tavern, or the town square.
They would eat together, debate, argue, reconcile, and carry on.
Relationships had time to grow, day after day.
Today, the world is very different.
We work with clients on the other side of the country or the planet.
We collaborate daily with people whom we see only through a screen.
We have hundreds of contacts and very few opportunities for real encounters.
Our days are full of communication, yet often poor in presence.
Paradoxically, we have never been so connected and, at the same time, so distant.
That is why I consider these occasions precious.
Not because they are rare in an absolute sense, but because they require a combination that is becoming increasingly difficult to achieve: free time, geographical proximity, mutual availability, and the simple desire to spend time together.
Once, these conditions arose almost automatically.
Today, they must be deliberately created and carefully protected.
That is why no opportunity should be allowed to slip away.
A dinner among friends, a conversation that continues long beyond the planned time, a laugh shared around a table: these are seemingly simple moments, yet they represent something that is becoming increasingly rare.
Technology allows us to work together.
Presence allows us to become friends.
As I was writing these words, I found myself thinking about an old article that I had written but never published.
It was technically complete, yet I felt that something was missing.
Today’s reflection has given it a new depth.
The article began with a Sicilian proverb:
“There is no defeat in the heart of one who eats.”
In Sicily, this is not merely a saying. It is a cultural reality.
Eating is not a functional act. It is a ritual. It is community. It is normal life.
Food accompanies life. And life is never straightforward: it contains good and bad, beauty and ugliness, triumphs and setbacks.
Everything passes. Everything changes. Everything becomes complicated.
But the table remains.
Sitting down at a table is a simple act, but not a trivial one. It is a pause.
For a moment, time stops racing with its usual urgency.
Worries do not disappear, but they lose their grip.
A different space emerges, a space in which people can breathe, speak, and listen.
And above all, they are together.
A community gathered around a table does not solve problems, but it changes the way those problems are seen.
It puts them into perspective.
It makes them shareable.
It reminds us that we are not alone in whatever we are going through.
In this sense, eating becomes far more than nourishment.
It means remaining engaged with life, even when life is not favourable.
It means choosing not to withdraw.
That is the heart of the matter.
Defeat is not found in pain, difficulty, or mistakes.
Defeat is found in isolation, in withdrawal, in the refusal to participate.
Anyone who continues to sit at the table, who continues to share bread, time, and conversation with others, is not defeated.
They may be tired. They may be worried. They may be wounded.
But they are not out of the game.
For as long as there is a place at the table, there is still human connection.
And as long as there is human connection, there is still life.
Perhaps, after all, the proverb is not really about food.
It is about the people sitting around the table.
And wherever there are people, friendship, and community, defeat cannot take root.