Initium
The traveler never knows when he will arrive at his destination, but the destination always knows when the traveler should arrive.
As I lay exhausted in Shisr, an old astrologer visited me. Without calling him, without ever knowing him, without even hearing of him. He came with a message, a sign of fate, a key to an incomprehensible mystery. With gentleness and wisdom, he leaned over me and whispered: "When the moon covers the sun, you will understand why you were born. But not here, but in the oasis beyond the madness of the city."
Without a doubt, that sacred moment, when the unknown whispers your destiny, "Mystalium Astratheos", was incarnated in the form of an old astrologer. I told no one about this visit. When I came to, the first thing I wanted to do was to leave again, to everyone's amazement. No one knew if I would return, but I went forward, to the place known by some as the "Atlantis of the Desert".
The truth is that I did not share this enigmatic visit with anyone, keeping it as a secret hidden deep in my heart, as if it were a memory from another life. Like a character in Borges' stories, I felt caught between reality and dream, unable to distinguish the border between them. When my strength returned, I asked to go far away, arousing the amazement of all those who did not understand the mysterious call that was pulling me towards the "Atlantis of the desert". At that same time, the words of the king who, longing for the Orient, had once addressed to a palm tree in the gardens of Ruzafa were insistently running through my mind: "Like me, little palm tree, on this earth you are in exile."
If the path is not clear, how do you recognize your steps towards your true calling, in accordance with a deep understanding of the difference between "arriving" and "desiring to leave"?
Although we were long overdue on the road, we arrived at exactly the right time, where the incense route weaves its way through the sands. Anyone who has walked the sands knows that nothing is by chance. As Ibn Battuta reminds us: "The traveler never knows when he will reach his destination, but the destination always knows when the traveler is to arrive."
A certainty. And in the silence of the eternal desert, my arrival proved necessary at that very moment, confirming that the gods still protected me. For the gods protect only those who dare to go further into the unknown that seems unseen, but yet almost palpable.
Of course, the desert, so vast and consuming, whispers its secrets only to those who dare to listen. No one suspected the trials I had gone through, the heavy breathing during the journey, the deep sleep necessary to recover from the burning expanse of the desert. Everyone believed that I would never accept to leave my birthplace again. But, against expectations, I insisted on leaving in the following days on an even more difficult journey, accompanying a caravan through the desert towards the unknown. The astrologer had been the promise of a revelation. His words penetrated my mind like an inscription on an invisible parchment, which I had to decipher.
How do you understand the subtle transition between the right time to stay and the right time to leave, appreciating the revelation of things that would have been lost if the path had not been taken?
I arrived where only sand and stars share their secrets, at the incense route, at a moment when fate itself seemed to have been waiting for me. It was as if I had followed an invisible thread, a path already written on the maps of the sky. The image that remained in my mind was that of a moving dune - always close, but always separated by the breath of the wind. Arriving in the oasis beyond the madness of the city, I did not find my place among those who had come to seek profit and glory. How ironic, to travel all this way only to feel that you had arrived exactly where you were supposed to be, but without the desire to take part in the spectacle of the world.
Having safely arrived at the oasis beyond the madness of the city, the scribe stayed only as long as he had to. His companions were disappointed by the lack of interest shown by the young man in the purpose of his journey. Many looked at him with indifference, and he was able to complete his mission almost unnoticed. While others were trying to make sure that everyone returned to the big cities with as much benefit as possible, the scribe wandered among the date palms and through the desert, knowing that he had fulfilled his destiny. He looked at the horizon, did not speak to anyone, then returned and went to bed. He slept many hours a day. And he did not want to return, not yet. For a while, no oracle could convince him and no advice could move him from his place. Only after seven or six days, when the moon covered the sun, did he allow himself to be convinced to return.
If I had arrived earlier, would anything have changed? How do the gods choose whom to protect? What unseen trials have tempered me for this journey? How could the desert decide the right moment for my arrival at the holy place? All these questions the scribe asked, while thinking about another prophecy of the king, only now revisited in his mind: "The road is not about the destination, but about the revelation of things you never suspected you could lose, if you had not crossed it."
Fulfilling your purpose means always being ready for the next step, knowing that one journey paves the way to another and greater one.
Initium symbolizes the sacred beginning of the inner journey, such that each step becomes a bridge between what you were and what you are about to become, from which the message shines: "It is not the destination that defines your path, but the transformation you experience along the way."
Perhaps in every apparent wandering there is hidden a precise path traced by the stars, visible only to the eyes that know how to read the signs of destiny. But the great secret, to find out why I was born, the desert has not yet revealed it to me. What is certain is that the steps carry me further, as if the answer were waiting for me at the end of a horizon not yet seen...
