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?
