I'm having
one of those exploding emotional episodes
(Mario Di Maggio,
28 October 2004,
Glasgow - to be read while listening to
"Crucify" by Tori Amos...)
That song - it carries all the sadness and burdens of our poor, wounded and
bleeding species. Despite the potential to be the most glorious life form in
the galaxy, we insist on dragging ourselves down with imaginings of crime
and guilt. Souring the beauty of it all. Turning on ourselves and tearing
apart all that could be.
And today, today
one of our ancestors literally came knocking on our door.
Literally. From less than 20 000 years ago, one of our prehistoric cousins -
tiny in stature from being isolated on an island for almost a million years
- tugged on our sleeve and reminded us who we are. Like these
newly-discovered hobbits, we come from a long line of struggling brutes who
forged tools, domesticated fire and even sailed seas despite limited
abilities and shortcomings.
Never despairing or giving up, no matter what they encountered. Even
shrinking in size to overcome the limitations of island food. They - like us
- are astounding monuments to the miracles taking place in the Cosmos. We
are all of us living displays of magic.
And yet, instead of savouring each moment of our short lives with a
thrilling breathlessness, we dig dark, painful pits for ourselves. Quite
incredibly, we turn away from the astounding reality we are part of.
A few individuals always prove themselves different to the disappeared
masses. Like little Liang Bua, who travelled through time to speak gigantic
things to us today, I'm determined to avoid that eagerly-sought torture
stake.
Instead, I'm going to make my forgotten ancestors proud, and my moment of
existence brim with light.
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