Hör Hur Rösterna Tystna

"... the lines told stories that were sometimes clear, but most were at best obscure and as vague and pale  as twilight. They told stories from the precariously fine border dividing life from death, blurring the line itself and finally erasing it. Ages and times were mixed in confusion, as were peace and war."

- The Sorrow of War

Adventure: I Wish The World Would Be Silent Now

Day Three

"I wish the world would be silent now. I wish man would be silent at night. At least out here, where the trees rise dark against the sky. 

I wish my heart would be silent now. A yellow moon rises, shines and whispers: "Shush, worry not, be still. I will be here all through the night. Be still, worry not."

The torch is going out, the moon hides behind the trees. An owl hoots in the dark.

I played a few songs 'til the sun had set. I am still playing now, though silently, only plucking a few strings, my voice remains silent. I realize this is my real audience, the audience my songs were written not only for, but actually by. They are my inspiration; water, rock, sky and of course the majestic crowd of pine, oak, ash and elm. They reflect man, they speak of man, as no man can and never will. They are not afraid or prefer not to be reminded of dark and wretched things. These listeners care not. They absorb the music and leave only silence. That is their applaud. Silence. And the beauty of their constant presence.

The moon broke its' promise and went away. I have no light. It is time for me as well to rest. The world is silent now... Save for some engine growling on a farm somewhere, ordered by man to never rest... "

Adventure: An Old King's Garden

Day Two Part Two

The crossing to the next harbor, was peaceful and without events worth mentioning. The eastern wind still accompanied me, the sun came out occasionally as if to make sure that I was still safe and sound. After only five hours, I reached the harbor of Mariefred. The little village was truly beautiful, humbly lying there so close to the great castle of Gripsholm. I think it's worth mentioning now, that wherever I went, I had the smallest boat of all, a twenty feet Hydra. In Mariefred, thirty-two feet was considered small. Now, this also said something about the standard cost of living there. I am by no means, poor, or from a poor family. But being young, without a job and with a desire to live as cheap as possible to save money for the future, Mariefred was a bit too expensive for me. The dock due was thrice as high as it was on Björkö. But when I had paid it, and eaten a royal dinner consisting of mushroom flavored noodles, a carrot and a glass of simple and cold water I felt like a queen sitting there gazing at the castle on the other side of the bay. Restrengthened and in high spirits, I set out for a walk again. I went through the city to the library, the bookshop, the market, the grocery store (to buy some plastic bags), round the church, then walked by the pier to make my way to the castle. When I stood by the foot of its' walls looking up, the only thought that came to me was "oh my, I would't have wanted to be the one to build this", thinking of the house under construction I had left at home. Tearing down the roof of that  house took thirty hours of work to finish. Thirty hours of work with blood, sweat and many sighs of monotony boredom. Hell, building a castle like the one before me must have felt like a never-ending task.

I kept walking. Behind a school, on the other side of a high fence, I found a forest of old oaks. Many times had I dreamt of sitting down under an oak, leaning my back against its' majestic stem, but I had never done it. So I simply hurled myself over the fence to the other side and did just that. I don't know for how long I stayed there, blinded by the setting sun and the dazzling beauty of green hills, white meadows, golden grass...

I walked further into the forest, and found a steep hill of rock. I could not resist climbing it. Death was my little sister, I was mocking her playfully, balancing on the edge of all I knew. One day, she'll want her revenge, all little sisters do. But this day, I triumphed. This day, I had magic.

Suddenly I had strayed off to the edge of the forest. A wide yellow meadow swayed in front of me. In the middle of it, three shimmering crab apples grew. A bit further out I saw a rock as wide and high as I am tall. Curiosity grabbed hold of me once more. I walked there, with the grass stroking my cheeks as I made my way. I stood in front of it,but could only just make out a few letters, a few words. I had to touch it and feel the letters in order to understand the full message. The stone told me the forest, the meadow, everything I had just walked through and seen, had long ago been a garden for a  now long dead king. He used to hunt deer within the area, which explained the surrounding fence. 

Anyone can discover these magic places. The only thing needed is a good pair of shoes, a will to walk out the door and then just keep going. Walk to places you haven't been before. Allow the world to toss you around. Get a little bit lost.

Adventure: Speak Softly

Day Two Part One

I woke up early the next day, at five, ready for whatever trials the new day had in mind for me. But when I stuck out my head to greet the morning, the day still seemed to be sleeping. There was no wind,  no sound, no motion. Everything was quiet and calm. Seeing it sleeping so sweetly, I did not want to wake it. So I decided to take a walk. I had not been on that island before, I knew nothing about it. So the things I discovered swept me a bit off my feet. I had not gone far when I saw some roof tops hide in the green a few yards away from me. I found a small village, or maybe more of a dwelling- for vikings. The sight tickled my imagination, and I dissolved. Right there, on the spot, I evaporated. 

And like a mist, I felt my presence flood out over this place built to reawaken the past.

As I left it, a new idea took form in my head; the house I am going to build in the future, is going to be built in that style. Heavy with that pleasant idea, the mist sunk a little into the soil where the houses were built and left a piece of me there.

It was still early, the restless stroll continued. I came to a crossroad. Two signs pointed two opposites directions. To the left was "The Black Earth", to the right "The Chapel Of Ansgar". I shrugged my shoulders. It didn't matter, I would have time to see both. I took the track leading to The Black Earth. A shadow rose on the hill as I made my way up. It was the shadow of a cross. It was a cross risen in the honoring memory of Ansgar, the man who first spread the word and preaching of Christianity to our country. A shiver went down my spine. Dark, are my thoughts on medieval christianity... But, turning around, the sight I met took my breath away. A soft green sea of grass, flowers and little tubby dark green bushes billowed away in the distant, starting just by the tip of my toes. A golden cross (in contrast to the shadow behind me) on top of a building that looked like a port gate for giants, seemed to be calling on me from the other side of a field of wheat. I remembered the other sign...

I left The Black Earth without looking back. I found my own path to the chapel alongside fields and old barns. Life lurked behind every thistle, turn and stem. Pheasants and snakes fled into the high grass as they heard my steps approaching, beetles shimmering like pearls of oil and frogs crossed my way more than once, sparrows swung to and from as they landed in fields of oat to feast on insects hiding there. I felt so completely at peace, so warm. I think I wore a constant smile, but who's to know? No one was there to see it. I felt at peace.

I reached the chapel. A sign read "Walk carefully, speak softly". Rows of empty benches were placed out in front of three enormous black gates. Behind them, I guessed, would be the altar. In the middle gate hung a thick rope. It lead to a large bell high above. I pulled it slightly, and saw the bell start to sway. But, I remembered... The day was still asleep, the past still present. Out of respect for ghosts that once were alive and used to come here to praise a God they loved whenever that bell would toll, I let go of the rope, and let the chapel continue its' slumber.

Adventure: Anchors Aweigh!

Day One

Summer had almost gone. It has passed without traveling, without one visiting my friend nature even once. Instead I had been demolishing and constructing parts of a house. Don't misunderstand me, it really has been one of the best summers I have had. Coming home after work, covered in paint and dust, I sort of felt as if I had been the day itself, newborn in the morning, old and torn in the evening. But something was missing...

With a heart trembling of anxiety and hunger for adventure I one day simply decided: anchors aweigh! It is my third year with the boat I bought three years ago, and not once have I gone to sail for more than a day. Well, it took me a while to transform it from this...

... to this...

But after thorough scrubbing, painting, sewing and planning, it's actually a boat that is at least, as good as any other boat. A journey starts with taking a first step, so I did, and planned a four-day journey. After I had left behind the first cape, I felt a fine stream of clear air flow through me. My veins were filled with the cleanest air, gusting away worries, thoughts, aching bones and time- the past and the future, leaving only the present. Clean, clear, transparent, I swept over the lake as the wind blew steady from the east. Away and away I blew as the sun set leaving the sky bleeding, the clouds trumpeting a silent farewell for the day that would never come again. But dark, it was not, for life went on. The eternal journey of the clouds would go ever and on and on. Being there in that moment, I felt that I would too, go ever on and on. The wind blew me lazily on waters shifting in copper  to my first harbor: Björkö. As soon as I had moored at the pier, I felt the light dim over the horizon to my adventure. I grew tired and was, a bit violently, rocked to sleep as the wind had caused a slow rumbling underneath the surface of the lake...

Who Is The Good Man?

(Inspired by several of Plato's texts, mainly Gorgias.)

The mentality of social darwinism that made the 20th century into a living hell for many worldwide, existed in ancient Greece as well. In Plato's essay "Gorgias", Callicles declares how he thinks laws and conventions are made for the weak, and how the stronger is being held back by them. The stronger who have resources to gain more, profit more and rule better than the laws allow, are cast under a spell that make them believe that equality and moderation is of good nature, which, according to Callicles, is not correct. I am sure that many share his opinion today, it s a problem that we still have-- I say problem because it has a lot of painful consequences for many. This is how good old Socrates handles it:

He questions Callicles' reasoning about the weak and the strong. If the weak are able to hold back the strong, does not that mean that the weak are actually stronger than the strong, at least together (a classic comment)?But who would be most suitable to rule a society? The good man. And who is the good man? The happy man. And who is the happy man? Not those who have more than others, but those who are capable of ruling themselves as well as ruling others. Crazy old man, Callicles thinks. What does Socrates mean? He means that we must restrain desires in order to be happy. Callicles protests and says that satisfying desires is what differs the strong from the weak, those who can satisfy their desires are stronger than those who can not. It is out of jealousy  that the weak majority despise the strong and what is actually right-- which is that and doing whatever you have the resources to do and doing it because you can. This is when things become interesting. Is having desires a good or bad thing? To make things more simple, Callicles and Socrates agrees that pleasure is good, pain is bad. Is being thirsty a pleasure or pain? Is feeling the need of scratching yourself a pleasure or pain? It is painful, yes? It is not until your desires are satisfied that they become a pleasure. Drinking when you are thirsty is undeniably a pleasure. But scratching yourself when your body itches can become painful, if the itch does not go away and you scratch until you start to bleed.
          This particular argument I find very interesting and adaptable in the discussion about who would be most suitable to rule a society. Because what causes the problems in our world? Doing things because you can without really asking yourself why you do it* (this is my opinion, I'm open for discussion). I'll admit that it does feel good to have money in my wallet, but why does it feel good? Because then I can use them to put other desires at ease. Now, to use my money to ease my hunger or thirst and hinder myself from falling ill, it is a good thing, yes? But having a lot of resources I might start eating more than I need or actually want, more than what is good for my well-being, and maybe I will start drinking things that does not actually slake my thirst at all but increase it, like wine, beer or some other alcoholic drink that makes you desire more and other things.
          So satisfying desires whenever they show up for whatever they may be does not make you a happy man, even less of a good man. For satisfying some desires leads to more desires than you started out with. And what is the point with earning money to earn more money? And power, is not that too a desire? Is not that what Nietzsche says defines man kind- the everlasting want and need of power? How do you still that desire? By ruling. If one rules for the sake of slaking one's desire for power, that is doing something just because you can, and will only fuel more desires. Desiring things is painful. Pain is bad. Unless it is balanaced with its' opposite, which it can be if you know why you are doing what you are doing. So reasoning this way does make moderation a good thing, but does it do the same with equality? I think it must be considered from a different angle... No, this text does not fully answer the question in the title, but maybe it gives us a model with which we can test different characteristic's quality.



* Having more resources than you need means great responsability and thoughtfulness. Plato mentions, not only in 'the Republic' I should add, that a  society with many luxuries is ill and feverish, for it is rich in things we do not need (even though I can not agree with what he defines with things we need and things we do not need). The duties that comes with being 'the people' in a democracy does not only include taking part in elections but also helping our governments to resist the temptations they undeniable stand before every day.

A Change That Is Consistent With What Matters

I admire, and actually sometimes even envy, people who have a strong opinion about how society should be shaped; people who have something to fight for, and who have a strategy for it. I have written about it before on this blog, about the fact that I let myself float around, get tossed, turned, ignored, denied, proved wrong, proved right-- in other words: I welcome change. I enjoy analyzing situations and problems, but rarely find anything persistent, something I think should not change. There are of course a few things, that I fight for as well. There are things that I believe in, and I have concrete ideas on what I can do to help the world reach and sustain those things. But when it comes to politics and mobilizing people with rules and laws, I find it very hard to know what to do. There's a lot of "on-the-other-hand" reasoning going on in my head when discussing politics. There are too many factors to take into consideration. 

       
The reason for that is people. We have the exquisite ability of manipulating the truth. Often we do so because of our feelings. And those feelings are rarely interpreted and considered carefully by its operators. So very often--if not always-- a person who tells a lie, does not know that he or she is telling a lie. This causes a problem: it will be very hard to understand what it is that people want and need. It takes time, to understand another person. And so, I believe that the most effective way of solving a problem is dealing with it yourself to whatever extent possible, solving it locally and not by making a decision that will be carried out on the other side of the world by people we do not know and who have not been part of making this decision. When we put it in our governments hands to handle things...  Well. Things often get out of hand.What I have concluded so far in my life, is that whenever man divides herself into "us" and "them", there's been a misunderstanding, and a question too big to grasp has been asked and will not resolve in a reasonable answer, until the chaos born from it has given room for concord.

        People are good at having feelings, and often we let our feelings run away with us. Psychology has discussed a lot wether our thoughts evoke our feelings or if it is the feelings that evoke our thoughts or if it might be a mix between the two. I am fascinated by buddhism and their teachings of how you can learn to control your body manually, by mind power. I do not only mean control and restrain your feelings, but also actually control your organs functioning and thereby also your body heat, your need of food, water and sleep. I do not mean to say that I believe that this means we can all be superhumans, we are all still limited by our bodies. But, there are limits on different levels I think. Because we are being taught that so many things are impossible or work in a certain way, we do not find it necessary to look for alternatives. We can watch a movie, or listen to a piece of music, or read a poem and be overwhelmed by feelings. That is because of our imagination, empathy and connection with the world around us. It's all make-believe really. Reality as we know it, can only be percieved by the means of which we've been given when we were born into this life, into this body. So when you sit outside in the freezing winter, waiting for that bus that will take you home or to work-- why wouldn't it be possible to imagine that you're actually indoors, sitting by a warm fire, and thereby raise your body heat (this is an example described in the journal of Alexandra David Néel on her crossing to Tibet)? We are of course, to some extent, dependent on the physical warmth that fire gives in a situation like this. But we are a creative specie, and we can, reconstruct the warmth a fire gives by the power of our mind, even if it is only a little, just as we can look at a landscape, and then paint it on a piece of canvas.

By reflecting a lot more than we do now on why we feel when we feel, both abstract feelings-- love, hatred, anger, fear, curiosity-- and physical ones-- pain, drowsiness, hunger, thirst--, well we might first of all find that, the difference between the two, is not very big. Then we'll find that, no matter why we feel what we feel, we can channel our feelings and project them in desired directions. If we can, by the power of our mind, control (or be aware of) how our vital body organs function, I am sure we can also learn how to control our feelings and thoughts. Now, if we were to become the masters of our bodies in this way, why wouldn't we be able to control our actions on a higher level as well? In order to learn how to control ourselves to that extent, we have to get to know ourselves and our surroundings very well. As we do that, we will have to ask ourselves what really matters to us, and that way, our actions will be consistent with it.