It had been a while I had not asked myself interesting questions. I was only criticising , although constructively, what was around. However, I was not looking in. Was I doing what I wanted? Or was I getting lost?

And it had to be in night of little sleep and even less caffeine in which I was asking myself what I really wanted.

And to my mind sprung the words of Khalil Gibran.

"Look at the island that saw my birth. From there I sprung to the world, with a song and a riddle; a song for the heavens, and a question for earth"

And it is in this sentence that I found the struggle of the prophet, and hence of the whole human race.
I am air, water, earth, and fire. All in one entity. Air allows to fly. Water quenches my thirst and makes me feel human. Earth gives me a reference for life, a surface and a measurement. Fire gives me warmth and burns me inside with the need to control everything else.

What a subtle concoction did the great alchemist create, from those four elements to create the human being. That my own barriers: sky, sea, earth and, fire conform me. That my brother is my equal, and our fights are the same.
That our fight is between sky, to which we owe our spirituality, and earth, that questions us endlessly over who we are and, what we are doing on her.

What is our life but this equilibrium between the one and the other. And of course a prayer never to reach it. For he who knows how to, ceases to live. He becomes wise, and no longer finds interest in the four elements. He knows more. He aspires to the alchemy, the refined chemistry that conforms the human being and everything else. And few are those capable of keeping such a secret. And fewer are those capable of understanding it.

Alone is the wise man, for the air of his words is not enough to free the air in which he flies inside himself. Alone, because no one drinks of his water, that distils knowledge and fraternity. Alone, because his feet are not enough to reach the distant lands that his thoughts have reached. And alone, because the fire of his passion isn't a firefly compared to the flames of hell that burn him inside.

Sometimes I would like to be wise. Others it would be the worse of my nightmares. But I always thought that if I listen to my brother perhaps the equilibrium can be reached. If for that step I end up alone welcome shall that loneliness be for it could never be otherwise.