Obituary

“You know the Greeks didn't write obituaries. They only asked one question after a man died: "Did he have passion?".

R.T.I. prominent hotel manager, died last night from complications of losing his soul mate and his fiancee. He was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, R. never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of his long reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous R. secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. But rather, it’s a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, D.Pr., the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and executive editor of the New York Times, described R. as a changed man in the last days of his life. "Things were clearer for him," D.Pr. noted. Ultimately R. concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny.” (monolog extras din filmul Serendipity cu mici modificari)

Intotdeauna am crezut ca destinul ti-l faci singur, grecii antici credeau la fel, de aia puneau intrebarea si nu scriau necrologuri, pentru ca iti trebuie pasiune sa-ti faci destinul, iar tu cititorule ai avut pasiune pana acum? Ti-ai facut tu destinul? Pasiunea e focul viu din tine, stia Prometeu ce face cand a furat focul din Olimp sa-l aduca oamenilor, sa se simta macar semizei,  caci focul a fost creat de zei. Mai apoi, Zeus l-a pedepsit pe Prometeu pe vecie, dar deja era prea tarziu, fiindca focul aprinsese pasiunea in oameni, asa cum face adesea dragostea, care tot dar divin este, dar e alta poveste.

Grecii antici ar fi putut scrie necrologuri doar pentru persoanele cu pasiune, cele cu suflet murdarit de atata rutina, sau cele cu suflete sclave neputintei, ar trebui uitate. Cred ca avand pasiune, rezolvi sau treci mai usor peste abisurile sentimentale, dar ce te faci cand mori chiar din cauza pasiunii? Poate te gandesti ca ce-i mult, strica. Am murit de pasiune de vreo doua ori, a ars, la inceput cu flacari pana la nori, si a ars mocnit spre final, dar de fiecare data a reinviat ca pasarea Phoenix.

Focul s-a stins din nou, vantul incertitudinii aproape ca l-a stins, pana cand, la un moment dat, a reusit. A ramas cenusa, o adun, o pun in urna pana ma decid de unde s-o imprastii in cele patru zari..

Inchei cu un citat al filosofului grec Epictet: “Sa nu doresti ca lucrurile sa se petreaca asa cum vrei tu, ci asa cum sunt ele.”