I
think of all the experiences that formed me; the tough road to becoming
myself. Growing up takes time and it takes... life; living life. Making
sacrifices, studying for endless exams, one more important than the
other, learning to survive, being hurt
in love, getting your first job and building yourself up to become the
better person your parents would be proud of calling "their child".
Each of us is a universe
of tears, and dreams, and laughter and hopes. Each of us is unique, and
different and a miracle of nature in all its glory.
If this was a well told blockbuster story, we’d all pull for the main character – regardless of which one of us that may be.
So I don’t get the words “they were killed”. How simplistic is that to express that a universe ended?
Fantasies like the Bible
and the Koran (and any other variations differently named), written by
people – like prophets and saints - interpreted by people – be it
priests, or popes, or imams, or rabbis – have become the ruling codices
and means of indoctrinating
misguided individuals.
So many of us are
atheists nowadays; and even more of us, agnostic. Or stuck in a cruel
Richard Dawkins dilemma – “world’s most famous” empirical atheist who
confessed: “I can't be sure God does not exist.”
I was born a Christian. A
Greek Orthodox Cristian, from a heritage of Zalmoxian faith tribes.
Yep, as it turns out, there was a one God belief before all the Old
Books were written. Faith, thus, runs in my veins. But not as a strict
set of rules, any longer.
More as an unwritten wisdom I’m only so lucky to be able to tap into.
Like a spring in the desert filled with reality shows, made-up beliefs
and “no limits”. God to me is… It’s like having no hope and yet knowing
that a miracle could save you.
“Meden Agan”… “Nothing in
excess” – says an age old inscription scribbled on Apollo’s temple at
the Delphi Oracle. Meanings reverberating through the pages of time from
Buddhism to the “middle path” of the Kantian philosophy and further on.
It’s been a
guiding light in troubling times for me. If there’s a balance in the
universe, which, well, there seems to be, than each extreme meets an
extreme. Each excess counters another. And I’m not sure if excess love
smothers extreme hate, but it seems neither win.
For as different as they may be, these are deeply the same.
Makes you wonder: is this
“middle road” really the “safe” choice? Some say you don’t really live
life if you always “play it safe”. Yet you die every day, just the same;
maybe only less fast. You can experience excess through the eyes of
those with a death
wish. And, in fact, that is very much desired. Information is a great
tool for survival.
I was born in a land once
called Dacia. A land of strong willed but kind legends who stood up to
invaders, while also welcoming foreigners in their home and offering
their best comforts and meals. Maybe that’s why America feels like
“home” too.
My people took pride in
giving you “the coat off their back”, as long as you didn’t become the
snake that bit their hand to inject venom and take advantage of your
host’s generosity.
They say history repeats
itself. And that “if you don’t have any elders, you should buy some”.
Our elders still sing ballads of times when Ottomans invaded our lands.
You may have heard morphed versions of those stories. Vlad the Impaler,
Prince of Wallachia,
might ring a bell. It so happens that Wallachia was one of the 3
provinces that made up the ancient Dacia (today’s Romania). Vlad was
born on Wallachian lands, but was captured and grew up as a prisoner,
learning the cruel ways of his later enemies: the Ottomans.
Which lead him to understand that one extreme can only be "impaled" by
another.
I often look at the world today… “Fighting ISIS”. History repeats itself in modern versions – wise say.
Have we become any smarter?
