Standing in front of a monumental and sacred temple, taking in the scent of dozens of burning sticks of incense and their lying ashes, I am taken back to a time when I had chosen to have a home, a sacred, safe and “secure” home. A place that filled me with the warmest emotions, a space where when I walked into I felt embraced, a place that through circumstance has changed in dynamic, a place that I have chosen to leave in the past, so that I can breathe in the present… at least for now.
The road is not long nor short, it is not narrow or wide, it is not rough or smooth, it just is. I haven’t got the ability to get lost, as I don’t have anywhere to be and nowhere to which I belong, I have no point of reference to deviate from, I am moving for the pleasure of moving and for the love of it. Yes, there is no doubt I am privileged, I won’t deny it or try to argue against it.
I am privileged to have been born into a family that encouraged education, knowledge, modesty and humbleness, a family that allowed me to be who I was, not because it was easier or because it suited them, but because they knew/know that ultimately every happy man, woman and child can only be happy if they make their own choices and that every man, woman and child only truly appreciates the lessons of life through experience. I am privileged, neither lazy nor dependent, I am fortunate, not spoiled nor financially rich. I am privileged and willing to share the riches of knowledge and stories that my family and loved ones have been generous enough to share with me, I am willing and wanting to share the little knowledge and stories that I have inherited.
Ashamed should be the being that watches a suffering ignorant individual cross their path and not donate a morsel of knowledge.
“A teacher who establishes rapport with the taught, becomes one with them, learns more from them than he teaches them.” – Mahatma Gandhi