A NARRATIVE FROM :
JOURNEYS INTO MYSELF
AT THE FOOT OF HUMILITY
I have witnessed the sons and daughters of men bragging about their public positions and their achievements; as if they were indispensable to the earth’s survival. And unto those I say:
“You are disposable, as anybody and anything else in this planet. In case of doubting, ask death, the rein in the horse’s jaws. Verily, it is not the grandeur of ecstasy speaking to you; rather the vanity of your rotten souls. Tame the horse, then you will ascend the mountain. Horse’s ears are more sensible to the barn; but winning the race is the horseman’s appetite. You must become the horse and the horseman before you enter the race! Racing is time for winning and not training. You need to familiarize yourself with the road before you embark on it; and the road to the soul is quite tedious.
You claim that your head is a fertile terrain where mathematics grows and logic rules. Another challenges you that your brain is but a great board of advertisement for all what is erasable. Only the poems that grow in my imagination will endure in men’s heart. Both have forgotten that every talent is a spark of God’s light that must be received in humility and gratitude. However, if you insist to continue bragging, I deliver you to God; He can tame the wild horse.
Friend, take time before you pronounce a death sentence upon me because I am a heretic before your eyes, as if God had given you the keys of His kingdom’s gates. There are a thousand roads to arrive there, and your attempt to merge them all into your path is the only heresy that doesn’t deserve His mercy. Wake up and smell God’s roses, yours are fertilized by deadly chemicals; and if they grow and spread some pleasant aroma; it is only thanks to His great sun that rises on everything and gives color and good smell to all. Consequently, nothing of your merits deserves that persistent bragging. Seek first His kingdom, so may He become the solid foundation of yours, or else you are building on sand and dust. And you know well, storms have no respect for sand and dust.
And when you invite me to your dance, criticize not my steps because they don’t follow yours; your pretentious expectation spoils the feast for you and me.
You invite me to share the celebration of your child’s birth. You must make me feel at home or else, I am your captive. And since when God bless the feast of the kidnapper.
And you the fanatic religious, in the name of your rigid God, you have taken me hostage; but I am free even in my captivity, because I belong to the kingdom of a gentler God. And if you invite me to your table, expect me not to recite your prayer; in my heart there is a different prayer that is as acceptable as yours before God. If you oblige me to recite your own prayer, you’re not accepting me; rather your erroneous belief that all men must model themselves according to your heartbeats. What happen to the saying- preached by all the monotheistic religions- that man is created on God’s image? Oh false God, have pity on yourself. By claiming to be God, you have lost the privilege of being human; you have confined yourself to the kingdom of apes, serpents and wolves. So much self- righteousness can poison even God Himself. Let’s honor Him by celebrating all the seasons in men’s hearts.
In redemption of having rejected yourself, behold, I accept the different tapings of your feet and the bents of your heartbeats. And in spite of rejecting me, I thank God who through the generosity of His sun has whitened my fields and ripened your vineyards that contributed to our encounter that has become for us an opportunity of self-examination. May we discover that we all are integral part of His divine work, the creation! If we reject any of His creation, we’re rejecting Him as well.
The acceptance of one another will serve as the great feast of our unity found only in our differences. At that moment you and I become seeds of a new race, a dream our children will inherit. And our acceptance of one another will become the most solid bridge to our different kingdoms, ourselves. May our hunger for self- glorification becomes the foundation of a nobler hunger, that of glorifying the other! And my soul will live in inquietude until it rests in you, O God of humility and peace.
Behold, I build my hut near your palace; the palace is only a palace because of its acceptance of the hut. The wise man that lives in a hut is more agreeable to God than a king seduced by his palace. And when the shadow of your palace mixes with that of my hut; then we know that our worldly acquisitions are but passing shadows. And when God’s sun becomes too hot for the crevices of my hut, I bow to the gentle breeze sent by the shades of your palace. Ultimately your palace needs to overcome arrogance, and my hut needs to overcome the complex of inferiority. Both must bow to the shadowing mountain that gives freshness to your palace and my hut.
And you the Bedouin, dear friend of my father and myself, how I desire the simplicity that governs your life; civilization has spoiled mine by stealing my God. And the language of your desert is more eloquent than any spoken from the chairs of our greatest institutions of learning. God’s clear presence in your desert has no fringes or shadows- unlike the foolishness of my valley that has killed Him in the name of progress and modern commodities. Indeed, progress is the tyrant’s voice that worships its own echo against the bubbles of its hollowness. Dear friend, beautiful are your songs and charming are the tales of the spirit that lives in your tent. Saved is your soul because of the purity of your heart. My civilization has pronounced God is dead. And if God, source of all lives, is dead, whence can any living draw life. May we bow at the foot of humility!