Issue nº 49
On the way to Santiago
Petrus and Good Combat |
The prayer
of Petrus
In 1986, I went for the first and only time on the pilgrimage
known as the Way to Santiago, an experience I described in my first
book. We had just finished walking up a small hill, a village appeared
on the horizon, and it was then that my guide, whom I shall call
Petrus (although that was not his name), said to me:
- Look around and let your eyes settle on some point; then concentrate
on what I shall say.
I chose the cross of a church I could see in the distance. Petrus
began:
- Man must never stop dreaming; dreams nourish the soul, just
as food nourishes the body. Often in our existences, we see our
dreams come undone and our desires frustrated, but we must continue
to dream, otherwise our soul dies. Much blood has flowed on the
field which lies before you, and some of the cruelest battles of
the Reconquista were fought here. It does not matter who was right,
or who had the truth: the important thing is that both sides were
engaged in Good Combat.
"Good Combat is that which is fought because our heart demands
it. In heroic times, the times of the wandering knights, that was
easy, there was much land to conquer and much to be done. Nowadays,
however, the world has changed , and Good Combat has been transported
to the battlefields within ourselves.
"Good Combat is that which is fought in the name of our dreams.
When they explode inside us with all their might - in youth - we
have plenty of courage, but haven't yet learned to fight.
"After much effort, we eventually learn to fight, and by
then no longer have the same courage to enter combat. Because of
this, we turn against and fight our own selves, and become our own
worst enemy. We say our dreams were childish, difficult to carry
out, or the fruit of our ignorance of life's realities. We kill
our dreams because we are afraid of engaging in Good Combat.
"The first symptom that we are killing our dreams is the
lack of time. The busiest people I have met in my lifetime always
had time for everything. Those who did nothing were always tired,
couldn't cope with the little work they had to do, and complained
that the days were too short: in reality, they were scared to engage
in Good Combat.
"The second symptom of the death of our dreams are our certainties.
Because we do not wish to accept life as a great adventure to be
lived, we start to see ourselves as wise, just and correct in the
little we demand of our existence. We look beyond the battlements
of our everyday lives, hear the sound of clashing lances, smell
the sweat and gunpowder, the great falls and warriors' thirsty glare
of victory. But we never notice the joy, the immense Joy dwelling
in the hearts of those who fight, because they do not care about
victory nor defeat, the important thing is to engage in Good Combat.
"Finally, the third symptom of the death of our dreams is
Peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon, with no great demands, certainly
nothing greater than we are willing to give. And so we think we
are mature, having left behind childish fantasies, and having achieved
personal and professional success. But in truth, in our innermost
heart, we know that what happened was that we renounced the fight
for our dreams, ceased to engage in Good Combat.
"When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we encounter
a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams start to rot
inside us, and infest every part of our lives.
"We start to become cruel to those around us, and in the
end we turn this cruelty upon ourselves. Illnesses and psychoses
emerge. That which we sought to avoid in combat - deception and
defeat - becomes the only legacy of our cowardice. And one fine
day, the dead, rotten dreams make the air difficult to breathe and
we begin to long for death, which delivers us from our certainties,
from our preoccupations, and from that terrible Sunday afternoon
peace."