Wandering SpΛrtan

One woman sent forth her sons, five in number, to war, and, standing in the outskirts of the city, she awaited anxiously the outcome of the battle. And when someone arrived and, in answer to her inquiry, reported that all her sons had met death, she said, "I did not inquire about that, you vile varlet, but how fares our country?" And when he declared that it was victorious, "Then," she said, "I accept gladly also the death of my sons." ― Plutarch, Sayings of Spartan Women

More so than ever, escaping the concrete jungle and returning to what is true and pure becomes vital. Among nature's raw elements, we are allowed a much-needed healing that modern society can never provide. The revitalizing energies of Nature are there to assist you on your journey back to yourself. When is the last time you walked barefoot or refreshed your face in a mountain stream?

Very simple things bring me happiness. One of those things is walking barefoot in my homeland's dry mountains. Every step in an experience. Some areas more punishing that others. Some bushy or thorny, pebbly or dirty. Each having their own character and lesson. The pain allows me to feel every step and feel my ancestors' sacred ground hardening me mentally and physically. I think of them, of their blood which was shed on the ancient timeless stones. I think of their hardnened bodies which were returned in the arms of Mother Hellas after having served their purpose. Who am I to deny myself the gift of pain which allowed the Lacedaimonian younglings to be shaped into the greatest of warriors? Thus walking in solitude under the Sun becomes a sacred ritual. By thinking of Spartan virtue with every step, no pain can stop me, only make me stronger.

"I teach to say yes in front of everything that strengthens, what accumulates strength, what justifies the feeling of vigor." ― Nietzsche

ΠΥΘΑΓΟΡΑΣ

Conception fictive du journal intime du Comte de Saint Germain: Une fois encore s'annonce une époque ténébreuse engendrant derechef ma résurgence. Le royaume de la fille d'Agénore et amante du sublime céleste père de l'Olympe se voit assailli. Un fléau nouveau s'annonce, un sinistre calvaire s'impose à des peuples et nations qui furent autrefois dignes, souverains et maîtres de leurs destin. Cependant et malgré tout, un choix vient se présenter et en cela repose la plus belle nouvelle. Depuis les pieds de la Méditerranée grecque aux plateaux de la péninsule ibérique, jusqu'aux grands froids des monts et pics glacés des terres scandinaves, nul n'échappe à la pénombre symptomatique de la faiblesse humaine caractéristique en cette ère de déclin moral, intellectuel, culturel et religieux. Mon avènement en ces lieux fougueux où règne la malfaisance de ceux qui ne connaissent scrupules ou honneur et qui se permettent de se prêter au jeu du pouvoir, servira un rôle qui se doit de rester mystérieux et qui fera l'objet de bon nombre d'examens et débats dans les époques à venir, comme il l'a d'ailleurs été jadis.