There was a well-known writer, Nobel Prize, that lived for a while when she was young in Southern Rodhesia, now Zimbabwe, not faraway from my birthplace. She wrote a book that impressed me when I was younger, “Prisons we choose to live”. Her name is Doris Lessing. Now, I am older and some issues remain unsolved in my mind, so I decided to read again her book, a masterpiece in human sociology, to understand why we choose to live in prisons.

We choose to live in prisons because we are extremely afraid of the unknown. We prefer a known prison warder than the pristine jungle where our life could be at risk. The fear, the fear of the unknown, of everything different. But seldom we realize that we don’t need to search for anything else at all. We have already everything. We are on the right side of the track, we are at home. That we may live each moment new and fresh, as a magical moment, as a treasure never to be repeated again, ever, shining, lighting up the world around us. Ups and downs, pleasures and pain, we shouldn’t have a final goal, but let life continue unfolding at its own pace, and we happily grasping its essence. This process is somehow intuitive, but how difficult it is…

 

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