Symbol: an olive tree at the shore of a wide, slow moving river. Time and its rewards. Saturn, Demeter, the truth that is gathered from autumn forest air. The patterns of a leaf are stark, and yet the leaf seems so fragile. No man can fathom the pressures that went into producing its delicacy.
This is a first unattainable standard designating pure resilience of self-valuing, essentially a gold standard. I owe the Italian Mountainwalker my sanity, literally, even though it was also he who brought me on the brink of the other thing.
Our times are marked by a black standard of light - those who are of generous and wild spirit are pressed into deep suffering, from which they perish or through which they become heroes in the classical sense; the sense that includes philosophers. The heroic standard applies to, I claim, the internet philosophy culture that all of us are cultivating here and in the peripheral forums. The frothy-foamy ‘criticism’ that the philosopher receives here is only a small percentage of the passion that exists for his writing. Much of it is silent and awaits its time. But the philosopher is a lion, and lions command loyalty, especially when the weathers change.
As I said, philosophy is friendship - it can not do without it. Be it with living souls or through the veils of time by the magic carpet of some pages that stir the soul into the eternal dance to which it was already privy, though shy - a philosopher is an invitation to himself. Those who behold this dance are invited to themselves.
They say Europe is dying. I say it is dead, and that the strange forces that are so keen on violence are its will to come back to life. Strange times ahead. This post will sink to the depths; I have mentioned no names as there are two Italian Mountainwakers of which all of this is descriptive.
Image:
Dionysos’ Lioness guarding her cubs.
Violent Dreams!