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‘Greece: History and Mythology’ Category

  1. Of Gods and Goddesses

    December 6, 2010 by host

    Greek-Gods-Hercules-sarcophagusGetty-Villa

    Hail, children of Zeus! Grant lovely song and celebrate the holy race of the deathless gods who are for ever, those that were born of Earth and starry Heaven and gloomy Night and them that briny Sea did rear.

    Tell how at the first gods and earth came to be, and rivers, and the boundless sea with its raging swell, and the gleaming stars, and the wide heaven above, and the gods who were born of them, givers of good things, and how they divided their wealth, and how they shared their honours amongst them, and also how at the first they took many-folded Olympus.

    These things declare to me from the beginning, ye Muses who dwell in the house of Olympus, and tell me which of them first came to be.

    Hesiod, Theogony (ll. 104-115)

    Greek-Gods-Aphrodite-Statue-Getty-Villa

    Wandering through the Getty Villa in Los Angeles, I was reminded of how much I love the ancient stories of gods and goddesses in Greek mythology.

    These all-too-human gods are so obviously reflections of us, the earthdwellers. They mirror the joys, the sorrows, and the challenges of human experience.

    Who could be more humanly flawed than commitment phobic Theseus, abandoning Ariadne on the island of Naxos?  Who can’t relate to Demeter cursing the earth after losing her daughter, Persephone, to the god of the underworld?  Who isn’t enchanted with Orpheus, who made even the rocks and trees sway to the melody of his music?

    Greek-Gods-Statue-Getty-Villa

    Today, we look back on these stories and see them for what they are — human truths revealed through stories and fabrications.  Yet these very stories were the religion of ancient Greece.  Olympian gods and goddesses were worshipped just as fervently as our own are today.  People lit candles to them, prayed  for hours on end to them, devoted their lives to them.  The philosopher Socrates was sentenced to death for preaching foreign gods and leading the youth of Athens astray.

    This seems so preposterous to us today, when we’ve replaced all the old deities with our more modern god(s).  We marvel that people actually believed these ludicrous propositions and organized their lives around them. We can scarcely believe vicious wars were fought over these beliefs.

    It’s so clear to us, from a distance of 3,000 years, that these are merely stories.

    Greek-Gods-Statue-Demeter-Getty-Villa

    The old switcharoo.

    A recent dinner conversation with a friend brought Nietzsche’s words home for me: “Even the most courageous of us only rarely has the courage to face what (s)he already knows.”

    Oh Friedrich, my moody Friedrich. How right you were.

    Greek-Gods-Statue-Zeus-Getty-Villa

    I wonder what made the ancient Greeks abandon their gods.  I haven’t the foggiest idea how this came about.  Was it quick — an epidemic of disbelief? Was it slow and gradual? Was it Constantine? Did some stragglers obstinately hold on, despite all the evidence that their country’s greatest thinkers —  masters of reason, logic and coherent rational thought — presented to them?  Were there some who just wouldn’t let go?  I’ll bet there were.  The thought of losing their great and honorable purpose in life, the fabric of their existence, their peace of mind, the holy sparkle in their eye, Zeus their god and protector, must have been terrifying to them. An abomination.

    I wonder if Sam Harris’ analagous story could have swayed them:

    “Say I told you that I thought there was a diamond the size of a refrigerator buried in my backyard, and you asked me why I believed this. I say, this belief gives my life meaning, or my family draws a lot of joy from this belief, and we dig for this diamond every Sunday and we have this gigantic pit in our lawn. I would start to sound like a lunatic to you. You would say, you can’t really believe there’s a diamond in your backyard because it gives your life meaning. That’s a self-deception that nobody should want.”

    Sam’s story probably wouldn’t have convinced many, because the definition of faith is a firm belief in something for which there is no proof.  The ancient Greeks would have tried to convince you that proof of Athena’s existence lies in all the olive trees that grow in Greece.  Didn’t Athena give us olive trees, after all? And aren’t the mountains and valleys of Epirus, and the clear streams of Macedonia, proof of Zeus’ love?  Isn’t the turbulent Aegean proof of Poseidon’s wrath? Just yesterday, someone prayed to the Hyades for rain, and it rained.  What more proof do you need? Can’t you feel Aphrodite’s love in your heart? The warmth of Helios’s sun on your face? Are you comparing the true god of Greece to barbaric Persian idols? Who but Zeus could have created such perfect order in the world? Don’t you know you could be condemned to the deepest pit of Hades for such a blasphemy? There’s just no convincing some people, they would say.

    Greek-Roman-Gods-Statue-Leda-and-Swan-Getty-Villa

    Say you were transported back to ancient Greece, and all around you even the most intelligent people linked arms and joined processions to the gods. Politicians and leaders based their most serious decisions (when to go to war, when not to) on the predictions of the oracle at Delphi, and the priests of Apollo forbade the eating of certain foods around the time of the great god’s birth. What would you do?  Would you stand up in the Agora and shout the truth loud enough for all to hear?  How many would you convince, do you suppose? Would you be sentenced to death by hemlock, like Socrates was? At the very least, you’d probably be ostracized and driven out of the city for being a heretic.

    Or perhaps you’d simply make your way through the market place, like an anthropologist observing archaic rituals.

    Would you go on with your day, thankful to be free of the superstition and mysticism that holds so many?  Embracing truth and the fragile, ephemeral beauty of life, would you be hopeful that someday the legacy of replacing one deity with another would come to an end, and the sun would set on all these gods, so that mankind could run headlong into a future brighter than anything the ancients could have imagined?

    sunset, beach, running

    From a distance of three thousand years, everything is so beautifully clear.

    © 2010 – 2011, Ithaka Bound. All rights reserved.

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  2. Sparta: Leonidas and the Brave 300

    March 25, 2010 by host

    Spring always reminds me that it’s almost summer and summer reminds me that I should be getting into some sort of acceptable shape for the hiking, swimming, and suitcase hauling that lie ahead.

    I was raised an athlete and ran sprints for as long as my crooked feet would carry me. I continued to work out in some form or another long after I stopped running sprints, but five years ago it all abruptly and completely stopped.

    Was it all those years spent in the gym and on the track?  Was it boredom?  Probably both, but all I can say for certain is that apart from my weekly yoga classes, and a few laps in the pool every now and then, my workouts only consist of the walking I’ve been doing since I gave up driving my car last May.

    I’m loathe to return to the gym.  Endorphins-enshmorphins, I’d rather read a good book.  But even if I read Dickens until the cows came home, the most it would do is give my sore eyes a workout.  Exercise, I must.

    To get my work-out mojo flowing, I’ve been channelling the Spartans to lead the way.  If you ever feel like you need guidance in discipline, I suggest a good read on the Spartans.  You’ll wonder what the hell you’ve been doing with your life.

    So I thought I’d do a post on the Spartans to remind myself that every path requires sacrifice, in one form or another.

    I had a hard time motivating myself to even write this post, because I knew that a work-out would be waiting for me at the end of it — that’s how bad it is.

    To kick things off, I’ll begin with everyone’s favorite Spartan — Leonidas — and the 300 men who followed him in search of a beautiful death in history’s greatest last stand — the battle of Thermopylae.

    The Road to Thermopylae

    In August or September of 480 BC, Leonidas, leader of Sparta, set off with 300 Spartans to meet an invading Persian army at Thermopylae — translated as “Hot Gates” and named after the sulphurous hot springs that still percolate in the area.

    The 300 men who accompanied Leonidas were hand picked by him to serve in an elite unit known as “Hippeis”–the king’s personal bodyguards.  The unit was comprised of the best Spartan warriors, who were held in the highest esteem by their fellow citizens.  The Hippeis was usually made up of battle-hardened veterans in their 20′s and 30′s, but for the rendezvous with the Persians, Leonidas ordered that only men with living sons would accompany him  – thereby guaranteeing that their bloodline would not be extinguished with death on the battlefield.

    The Oracle of Delphi had prophesied that Sparta would be conquered and left in ruins or that one of her two hereditary kings, descendants of Hercules, would have to sacrifice his life to defend her.  Since Leonidas could not take enough men to ensure a victory, he was convinced they were marching into certain death.

    At this time of year the Spartans, de facto military leaders of the Greek alliance, were celebrating the festival of Carneia. During the Carneia, military activity was forbidden by Spartan law; the Spartans had arrived too late at the Battle of Marathon because of this requirement. It was also the time of the Olympic Games, and therefore the Olympic truce, and thus it would have been doubly sacrilegious for the entire Spartan army to march to war. On this occasion, the ephors (Spartan officials) decided the urgency was sufficiently great to justify an advance expedition to block the pass at Thermopylae. This expedition was to try and gather as many other allied troops along the way as possible, and to await the arrival of the main Spartan army.

    En route to Thermopylae, the Spartan force was reinforced by contingents from various cities and numbered more than 5,000 by the time it arrived at the pass. Leonidas chose to camp at, and defend, the narrowest part of the pass, the middle gate  where the Phocians had built a defensive wall against invaders from Thessaly some time before. Upon arrival, the Greek forces began reconstructing the wall, which was in a state of disrepair.

    News also reached Leonidas, by locals from the nearby city of Trachis, that there was a mountain track which could be used to outflank the pass.  In response, Leonidas stationed 1,000 Phocians on the heights to prevent such a maneuver.

    Perhaps the greatest controversy relative to the Battle of Thermopylae is the issue dealing with the number of warriors in the Persian army.  Herodotus put the number at 2.5 million, other historians have suggested numbers between 200,000 to 4 million.  The confusion stems partly from decimal points, but one thing is certain — the Greeks were vastly outnumbered.  The pass at Thermopylae was chosen as the battle site because, at only 50 ft. wide, it would allow a small contingent of fighters to hold off a vastly greater army.

    When the Persians entered the pass, they sent a mounted scout to reconnoiter. The Greeks allowed him to come up to the camp, observe them and depart. When the scout reported to the Persian leader, Xerxes, the size of the Greek force and that the Spartans were indulging in calisthenics and combing their long hair, Xerxes found the reports laughable. Seeking the counsel of an exiled Spartan in his employ, Demaratus, Xerxes was told not to underestimate them — the Spartans were preparing for battle and that it was their custom to adorn their hair beforehand.

    Xerxes remained incredulous. According to another account, he sent emissaries to the Greek forces. At first, he asked Leonidas to join him by offering the kingship of all Greece. Leonidas answered: “If you knew what was valuable in life, you wouldn’t covet what is not yours. For me it is better to die for Greece than to rule over my compatriots.”

    Then Xerxes asked him more forcefully to surrender their arms. To this Leonidas gave his famous answer: “Come and get them.”

    Despite their extremely disproportionate numbers, Greek morale was high. Herodotus writes that when Dienekes, a Spartan soldier, was informed that Persian arrows would be so numerous as “to blot out the sun”, he remarked with characteristically laconic prose, “So much the better, we shall fight in the shade.”

    Day One

    Xerxes waited four days for the Greek force to disperse. On the fifth day he ordered the Medes and the Cissians to take the Greeks prisoner and bring them before him.  According to Ctesias, the first wave numbered 10,000 soldiers.

    The Medes soon found themselves in a frontal assault. The Greeks had camped on either side of the rebuilt Phocian wall. That the wall was guarded shows that the Greeks were using it to establish a reference line for the battle, but they fought in front of it.

    The Greeks deployed in a phalanx, a wall of overlapping shields and layered spearpoints spanning the entire width of the pass. Herodotus says that the units from each state were kept together and that Leonidas rotated the fighters so that fresh troops would always be at the forefront.  The Persians, armed with arrows, wicker sheilds, and short spears, could not break through the long spears of the phalanx, nor were their lightly armoured men a match for the superior armour, weaponry, and discipline of the Spartans.

    The Greeks also used a maneuver in which they pretended to retreat in disorder only to turn suddenly and attack the pursuing Medes. In this way they killed so many Medes that Xerxes is said to have started up off the seat from which he was watching the battle three times. According to Ctesias, the first wave was “cut to ribbons” with only two or three Spartans dead.

    The king eventually withdrew the Medes. Having taken the measure of the enemy, he threw the best troops he had into a second assault: the Immortals, an elite corps of 10,000 men.  The Immortals were the Spartans heralded counterparts in the Persian army.  As the name implied, an aura of invincibility surrounded this unit.

    As frightening and disciplined as the Immortals were,  they found, as had the Medes and others before them, that in the confines of the pass their numbers were a hindrance rather than a help.  Strategically speaking, the width of the pass was of paramount importance since it negated the strength of the Persian army.  Once again their shorter spears could not penetrate the formidable bristling line of the Greeks, nor their arrows pierce the great bronze shields.

    As countless wars have shown, courage is not enough.  Against superior weaponry even the bravest fall, and when those better weapons were wielded by men whose whole life had been nothing but a preparation for war, the outcome was inevitable.

    Xerxes had to withdraw the Immortals and the first day of battle probably ended there.

    Day Two

    On the second day, the Persian assault failed again. Bodies lay everywhere and the battle took place over the dead and dying. The wall of bodies must have broken up the Persian line and detracted from their morale. Climbing over the bodies, they could see that they had stepped into a killing machine but were prevented from withdrawing by the officers in the rear. Xerxes at last stopped the assault and withdrew to his camp, totally perplexed. He now knew that a head-on confrontation against Spartan-led troops in a narrow pass was the wrong approach.

    Late on the second day of battle, as the king was pondering what to do next, he received a windfall: a Malian Greek traitor named Ephialtes informed him of the mountain path around Thermopylae and offered to guide the Persian army through the pass.

    Last Stand at Thermopylae

    At daybreak on the third day, the Phocians guarding the path above Thermopylae became aware of the outflanking Persian column and retreated to a nearby hill to make their stand (assuming that the Persians had come to attack them).However, not wishing to be delayed, the Persians gave them a volley of arrows before passing by to continue with their encirclement of the main Allied force.

    The Greek position at Thermopylae, despite being massively out-numbered, was near-impregnable.If the position had been held for even slightly longer, the Persians may have had to retreat for lack of food and water.

    None of the Persians’ actions surprised Leonidas. From a variety of sources, he was kept appraised of their movements and received intelligence of the Persian outflanking movement before first light.  When he learned that the Phocians had not held, Leonidas called a council of war at dawn. Some of the Greeks argued for withdrawal, Leonidas and the Spartans had pledged themselves to fight to the death.

    After the council, most of the Greek forces chose to withdraw (without orders), or were ordered to leave by Leonidas (Herodotus admits that there is some doubt about which actually happened). The contingent of 700 Thespians, led by their general, refused to leave with the other Greeks but committed themselves to the fight and cast their lot with the Spartans. Also present were the 400 Thebans, and probably the helots that had accompanied the Spartans.

    At dawn Xerxes made libations. He paused to allow the Immortals sufficient time to descend the mountain and then ordered the advance.

    Knowing that death was imminent, the Greeks gave up the phalanx and charged forth from the wall to meet the Persians in the wider part of the pass in an attempt to slaughter as many as they could before dying. They fought with spears until every spear was shattered and then switched to xiphoi (short swords).  Those who were left without weapons continued to fight with their hands and teeth.

    Leonidas died in the assault, and the two sides fought over his body, with the Spartans taking possession.

    As the Immortals approached, the Allies withdrew and took a stand on Kolonos Hill, behind the wall. The Thebans deserted to the Persians and Xerxes later had them branded with his royal mark.

    Tearing down part of the wall, Xerxes ordered the hill surrounded, and the Persians rained down arrows until every last Greek was dead.

    Aftermath

    When the body of Leonidas was recovered by the Persians, Xerxes, in a rage at the loss of so many of his soldiers, ordered that the head be cut off and the body crucified. The Persians normally treated enemies that fought bravely against them with great honor, but Xerxes was given to fits of rage.

    Two Spartans survived the battle of Thermopylae:

    Pantites, who was sent away from the battle by Leonidas on a diplomatic mission to enlist the services of the other Greek city-states. He later hanged himself because of the shame and the dishonor bestowed upon him by his fellow Spartans who thought he had loitered long enough not to engage in battle; and Aristodemus, who suffered a severe eye inflammation that incapacitated him and was ordered back to Sparta with the retreating forces. He was labeled ‘The Trembler’ for not having fought and died with his fellow Spartans. Redemption for Aristodemus came the following year when he stood in the front line of the phalanx at the Battle of Plataea, broke rank, and killed numerous Persians before dying.

    With the pass opened, the Persians poured into Greece, burning and sacking cities on their way to the now-deserted Athens, which they burned to the ground.  When the battle moved to the sea, most of the Persian fleet was destroyed at the Battle of Salamis and Xerxes, fearful that his army would be trapped in Europe, retreated back to Asia leaving just a hand-picked force to complete conquest the following year.

    Nine months later, the Persians and Greeks (including the entire Spartan army, but still outnumbered 3 to 1) met once again in battle on the open terrain of Plataea, where the Greeks trounced the Persians and finally ended the invasion of Greece.

    The Spartans that died during the Battle of Thermopylae were buried on the hill where they fell, including Leonidas. A stone lion was erected to commemorate him, however, the custom was to return Spartan kings home for burial. Forty years after the battle, Leonidas’ body was returned to Sparta where he was buried again with full honors and funeral games were held every year in his memory.

    What Victory Means

    While the battle was technically won by the Persians, it was a great moral victory for the Greeks. It served to rally many Greek city states which, until that point, were wavering as to which side to support.  More importantly, Thermopylae served to demonstrate Spartan resolve and courage against overwhelming odds.

    Throughout the centuries, Thermopylae has served as an inspiring example  of what a small group of disciplined, tenacious free men are capable of accomplishing when country and freedom are at stake.

    Some argue that it may have changed the course of western civilization.

    At the very least, it begs the question:  What are you willing to sacrifice?

    “Go tell the Spartans,

    stranger passing by,

    that here, obedient to their laws, we lie”

    -- epigram at Thermopylae

    © 2010 – 2011, Ithaka Bound. All rights reserved.

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  3. Forcing Odysseus to Leave Home

    January 17, 2010 by host

    Greek-Island-Greece-Odysseus-Man-in-Water

    I was surprised to learn that one of the main heroes of the Trojan war, and the protagonist of the Odyssey, pulled out every stop in the book to avoid having to leave home and join the fight.

    When Helen was abducted by Paris, her husband, Menalaus, asked Helen’s old suitors to help bring her back to Sparta and to make the Trojans pay for their affront.  Odysseus was obligated by an oath to help, but an oracle had prophesied that if Odysseus left home, his journey back would be long-delayed.  To avoid this fate, Odysseus pretended to be insane.  He attached a donkey and an ox to his plow and began to sow his fields with salt.  His ruse was uncovered only when his infant son, Telemachus, was placed in front of the plow and Odysseus veered to avoid hurting him.

    Human beings will put themselves through all sorts of ruses to avoid doing what they know they should do.  I’ve certainly done it

    What would have happened, I wonder, if Odyssesus had succeeded in his ruse?  Would he have been just another long-forgotten king of Ithaka?  Would he have secured his place in history through some other adventure or act of bravery?

    History has shown that the stories of ancient Greece all have some basis in fact.  What do you suppose really kept Odysseus wandering for ten years after the fall of Troy?  Who were the sirens,  Calypso, and the Cyclops?

    All interesting questions, and I hope to be able to answer at least one in my lifetime.  For now, I need to find another Telemachus.

    © 2010 – 2011, Ithaka Bound. All rights reserved.

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  4. Sing to me of the Man, Oh Muse…(III)

    November 16, 2009 by host

    Greece-Boat-Greek-Islands-Pericles

    Emboldened by their new prosperity, prestige, and power, Pericles and the Athenians began to pursue empire.  Despite their protestations to the contrary, they began to treat their allies as their subjects.  Ideologically committed to their own form of radical democracy, they saw it as their mission and their right to foster, or if necessary to force, this democracy on their sister states.

    You either supported Athens, or you braced yourself to be her enemy.

    Sparta rightfully saw Athens as a threat and came to realize that the two of them – Athens and Sparta – were on a collision course.  Their suspicions were confirmed when the Athenian Assembly declared war on Sparta and the Peloponnese after an impassioned speech by Pericles.

    At the same time, the political enemies of Pericles sought to erode his power and topple him by attacking those closest to him.  His friend Phidias, ancient Athens’ greatest sculptor and the man for whom the golden mean was named, was thrown in jail for embezzlement and died not long after.  The philosopher Anaxagoras was indicted for teaching that the sun was a red-hot mass of metal, and not a god, and for treasonable correspondence with Persia.  Anaxagoras was condemned to death, but was saved through the intervention of Pericles.  Aspasia was also put on trial, then saved by Pericles.

    Pericles’ meticulous plan to defeat Sparta took account of everything, except that which can never be taken into account.  One year after the start of the war, the plague entered Athens. It spread through the over-crowded city like wildfire, taking 20,000 lives in the first outbreak.

    Pericles’ two legitimate sons from his first marriage died within a week of each other, and the Athenians saw their stoic leader cry in public.

    Pericles himself died of the plague during the third year of the Peloponnesian war and the glory that was Athens died with him.

    The democracy was left prey to hostile factions and reckless leaders who pursued their own advantage.  Traditional warfare in Greece was brutal but brief.  A battle might last only hours or even minutes.  When one side yielded the field, the other side declared victory, erected a trophy, and collected its dead.  The practical aim of war was to bring the enemy to submission, whereas in the Peloponnesian war – through the leadership of inferior men – the aim became to annihilate the enemy.  Any line between warriors and innocents, between young and old, was ignored.  War became indistinguishable from atrocity.

    The Peloponnesian War lasted nearly 30 years, and in the end Athens lost everything: her prosperity and democracy, her people and her principles had all been fed to the consuming ache for empire.  The Golden Age of Athens was over, and the Greek world from Sicily to Asia Minor was devastated.

    The Spartans sacked Athens, tore down its city walls, destroyed the fortifications of its port, Piraeus, and all but 12 warships were surrendered.  Athens was henceforth to be a Spartan ally and to follow the same foreign policy. Persia was finally allowed to establish an influence in Greece, something it had not succeeded in doing during all the military battles of the last century.

    The future of Greece lay to the north.  The torch of empire, which eventually consumes every hand that grasps it, was passed to a young boy named Alexander, tutored by Aristotle, who is said to have slept with the Iliad under his pillow.

     (parts excerpted from Ancient Greece: an Explorer's Guide)

    © 2009 – 2011, Ithaka Bound. All rights reserved.

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  5. Dare to be Great

    November 5, 2009 by host

    Stand out from the crowd, be yourself, dare to be great

    I was walking down a street in Georgetown the other day and heard a woman make a comment about me to the friend at her side. The comment concerned something I’ve always considered to be quite normal about myself, but apparently the women had an altogether different idea of what constituted normal.

    The comment didn’t bother me, but it got me to thinking about how homogeneous society has become and how little tolerance there is for quirks and peccadillos of personality or style.

    I’ve always been fascinated by people with outlandish eccentricities who dare to be themselves.  Somehow the true self always rises to the surface like oil in water, and the real challenge lies in not burying it to put on an acceptable persona for the world.

    Although our society prides itself on individuality, it is very suspect of people who practice individuality when it comes to looks, actions, dress, behavior or lifestyle.  There was much more leeway given to individuality in the past than there is today. Consider these people, who were allowed to forge their own paths:

    Diogenes of Sinope:

    One of the founders of Cynicism and a philosopher of ancient Greece who believed that most humans lived artificial, hypocritical lives.  He practiced a life of severe austerity and lived in a tub in the middle of Athens.  He walked the streets with a lamp in the daytime, claiming to be looking for one honest man.  When a ship he was voyaging on was attacked by pirates, he was taken to Crete to be sold as a slave.  As he stood on the auction block waiting to be sold, he pointed to a man in the crowd and said, “Sell me to that man, he looks like he needs a master.”

    Despite living the life of a penniless beggar, Diogenes earned the respect of many people.  When his tub was destroyed by young hooligans, the city of Athens bought him a new tub and had the delinquents flogged.  Alexander the Great paid him a special visit in Athens and said, “If I could not be Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes.”  And when he died, the city of Corinth (where he had been sold as a slave), erected a monument in Diogenes’ honor.

    Nikola Tesla:

    One of the greatest genius minds of all time, and the father of electricity, had a whole host of quirks.  In his own words:  ”I had a violent aversion against the earrings of women, but other ornaments, such as bracelets, pleased me more or less according to design.  The sight of a pearl would almost give me a fit but I was fascinated with the glitter of crystals or objects with sharp edges and plane surfaces.  I would not touch the hair of other people except, perhaps, at the point of a revolver.  I would get a fever by looking at a peach…I counted the steps in my walks and calculated the cubical contents of my soup plates–otherwise my meal was unenjoyable.  All repeated acts or operations I performed had to be divisible by three and if I missed I felt impelled to do it all over again even if it took hours.”

    Tesla felt that remaining celibate was crucial to his work.

    Greece-Athens-Corinthian-Column-St.-Simeon-Sylites

    St. Simeon Stylites:

    A christian ascetic who spent 37 years living at the top of a pillar that stood 50 ft. high and had a 3 sq.ft platform at the top.  He entered a monastery at the age of 16 but his own personal brand of austerity was so severe, he was actually asked to leave the monastery.  A few years later, in order to get away from all the people who were coming to him for prayers and advice, he found a home for himself at the top of a pillar among some ruins in modern-day Syria.  He lived on the pillar through 37 hot summers and brutal winters, and never descended.  People down below would send him food and water via a basket and rope, but St. Simeon never formally requested anything.  The Byzantine Emperor Theodosius and his wife Eudocia greatly respected Simeon and came to him for counsel.

    Today, Diogenes would be looked upon as a lazy beggar,  Nikola Tesla would be medicated for obsessive compulsive disorder, and Simeon…well he would probably be accused of pulling the pole sitting stunt in order to get his own reality show.  All because they asserted their individuality and dared to truly be themselves…the greatest thing they could be. They make the little things seem alright.  Like avoiding cracks in the sidewalk as you walk down the street because you still think it might break your mother’s back, or pulling away from the world for a while because you’ve set your sights on other things.

    I ran into a group of friends in Dupont Circle a while back and told them about an amazing man I’d encountered down the street.  The man was homeless and shouting one of the most profound diatribes I’d ever heard directed at the world.  ”I’d rather be hated for who I am”, he spat at the world, “than loved for who I am not!”

    When I finished telling them that it was one of the most intelligent displays of public speaking I’d ever heard, their only reaction was “But he’s homeless.”

    © 2009 – 2012, Ithaka Bound. All rights reserved.

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