Certainties. We all need certainties. They are our own individually tailored safety nets. Home. It feels nice to be at home. When I was a little kid, I used to be afraid of the dark. I don’t mean ‘afraid’ as in ‘terribly scared’, but it always made me feel uneasy. Everything looked nicer when it was flooded in light. Later on, I discovered that well-lit streets near the city center are usually the safest to go for when visiting a previously unknown city. I can easily picture the main streets in Aranjuez, my little town, right now. The Town Hall square, with its children playing around and its crowds gathering by. It all looks pretty much the same as it did before I was even born, and it will probably keep on looking pretty much the same years after I am gone. An overdose of certainty. I guess it feels kind of nice to go for a walk without having to worry about what you are going to find waiting around the corner, to find your own way without constantly having to carry a map in your bag, to simply relax and follow the lead. Certainties. We all need certainties, and real darkness can be characterized as a total lack thereof. A perfectly well-known, illuminated environment then arises as a most desirable habitat, except for one element: there can be no real freedom when everything is certain, when everything is fixed, when everything is known. The fear that taunts our responsibility is nothing but the price we need to pay in order to become masters of ourselves. Why venture into unchartered waters? Why risk getting lost? Certainties. We all need certainties, yes, but we are also free to hope for something better, no matter how uncertain. To purposely and deliberately refuse the blue pill. To take the road less travelled by. To follow our dreams, no matter how apparently foolish or distant. To find our own light, even if this enforces us to endure burning. Indeed, the cost is high, but there are certain things that can only be found in the darkness on the edge of town.
Tonight I'll be on that hill 'cause I can't stop
I'll be on that hill with everything I got
Lives on the line where dreams are found and lost
I'll be there on time and I'll pay the cost
For wanting things that can only be found
In the darkness on the edge of town
I'll be on that hill with everything I got
Lives on the line where dreams are found and lost
I'll be there on time and I'll pay the cost
For wanting things that can only be found
In the darkness on the edge of town
We do need certainties, but they are sometimes as well the iron bars of our golden cage, which is in turn, as it can't be otherwise, only in our minds.
It certainly is, my friend. Remember "our" poem?
"Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-do not be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high, as long as a rare sensasion
touches your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you will not encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you"
our poem indeed!
thanks for remembering, paco!