voiceinthedesert
18.08.10, 19:25
Szkoły, które nie uczą tego co piękne, dobre i szlachetne duchowo,
zubożają młode pokolenia! We must be taught to yearn for spiritual
hights! The Psalm 121:1-2 says: „I raise my eyes toward the
mountains. From where will my help come from? My help comes from the
Lord,the Maker of heaven and earth!
One day, I found myself walking toward the Aconcagua mountain,
carrying my needs with me. Because my spirit was restless, I wasn't
walking, but running. Those were the times in my life when I first
began to look for the life's meaning. Why was it that this majestic
white mountain attracted me so much? Why not go in some other, less
lofty direction? I was working at the Petroquimica Lujan de Cuyo. I
needed my work and liked my work, but I wasn't free. Such were the
thoughts on my mind. But, for some mystical reason, I wouldn't go
any other way!
Around me, the scorching yet cool Andean sun was burning. As
distance increased, the nauseating and pervasive aroma of the
petrochemical plant was becoming less and less.[1] The closer I got
to the mountain, the faster I run. As I dashed through the dense
matorrales[2] of the subandineparamo, the thorny branches
covered my arms and legs with painful scratches. I didn't mind. I
felt liberated, almost out of my mind, the more liberated, the more
I run. Under my feet, the glistering mixture of pebbles and rock
fragments; above the azure cloud-billowing sky. Ahead, the chain of
misty blue Cordilleras. The pebbles were characteristically brown,
or as the locals said, de distintos colores de marron.[3] Most were
flat and rounded, smooth and common. Some, very few, were actually
sparkling bright red. These pricked my consciousness, as I run
through this sea of reds and browns. Very occasionally, a bright
white stone appeared, evoking a diamond. I knew that the stones were
worthless, but in the euphoria of liberation I wanted to believe
that they were rubies and diamonds!
But I didn't stop. The only meaning the ground under my feet
had for me, was that it was the way - a straight line that led me to
the Mountain were my real dreams rested! Still, the more I run, the
more difficult it become. The reality was becoming to catch up with
me alongside with the fatigue. The Mountain at first looked closer
and closer. Now the distance remained more and more static. My
spirit was urging me to keep on going, but the body was saying no.
In the depths of my consciousness I have always known that the
Mountain was no less than forty miles away, perhaps a hundred forty.
But I also knew that it was not meant for me to get there at that
time. I stopped. Yet I remember, on my way back, looking back many
times, vowing to return.
Many years have gone by. I have understood that the force that
impels us is an inborn desire to be free. The Mountain symbolized a
promise of a new better life, a hitherto unknown peace, an escape
from the sense of dying. Every human being carries embedded in his
or her consciousness this dream, the desire that they won't
relinquish for anything in the world. Lest the dream is realized,
the peace is never complete. The force pushed me in the direction of
where peace was. The Mountain represented the Grace of Peace, and
this is why it attracted me to itself. It was the "Precious Pearl,"
the "River of Living Water," the "Light of the World."[1] I may not
be able to reach it time and again. But to the highest Mountain of
God, the Mount of Zion, I will always long to return.
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[1] In Argentina's petroleum transformation plants, a characteristic
aroma is added to the normally odorless natural gas for security
reasons, to make it always detectable.
[2] Spanish term designating the underbrush typical of mountainous
regions including the Patagonia.
[3] „of variable tonalities of brown" (Spanish).