A little bit of background to start off. For a couple of months I’m working as a volunteer at a local secondhand store (go ahead, insert your Macklemore reference here! ^_~), at its books section to be precise. We receive incredible amounts of books every day, of all sorts of genres, languages, sizes and conditions. Every once in a while quite the little gems appear. What’s even better is that, since I work there I get a discount on any of my purchases! The result? I put some books apart and take them home at the end of almost every work day. So far I’ve managed to get my hands on some nice film encyclopedias, a great book about my favourite actor Rowan Atkinson, a beautiful set of books on great philosophers, a book containing both translations of original Japanese haiku as well as a lot of background on the haiku itself… And that’s among others! I sometimes half-joke I should be looking for a new bookcase there so I’ll have a place to put all those new books!
My latest acquisition was The Voice of the Master by the amazing Lebanese poet Gibran Khalil Gibran.
Unfortunately I have yet to really sit down with it and have only read its short introduction. One line among that (quite beautiful) introduction, though, already and especially stood out to me. There is undoubtedly more to this line, certainly within the context of the text, but to me, in the moment I read it, I saw the power of the word, capable of surpassing even something as the apparent finality of death, allowing both itself and its creator to live on in the minds of others, to touch them long after the creator’s body has gone. It probably doesn’t come as a surprise that (particularly, though not only) as a writer I immediately found it deeply inspiring and very encouraging. And so I will end today by sharing those words, in hopes others will also find value and inspiration in them.
“I am here, living, and I cannot be exiled from the domain of life, for through my living word I will live in death.”