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To muddle through. To find a way, despite daunting circumstances. To overcome terrifying obstacles, sometimes with nothing more than a dream. To find a shred of light in a sea of darkness. To hear the one true note of music in a cacophony of noise. To inspire when everyone around you is falling down. To make the most of what you have, putting one foot in front of the other, transforming the scraggly tree life has given you into something beautiful. To muddle through…somehow.
Marius and I bumped into each other in the house kitchen, where we popped open a bottle of red wine and began snacking on dates, almonds, cheese, crackers, and chocolate. “I was in the sixth grade,” Marius told me, grabbing a cracker, “and the teacher asked me why I was late for school. I gave a smart-aleck answer because I was drunk.”
Travel inwardly and outwardly until you hear something, a distant and unfamiliar melody, sung in a foreign tongue around a strange fire. Break bread with those you find there, the “others.” Listen to their stories. Pay tribute to their gods and warriors. Honor their ancestors. Feel their hearts.