The world does not impose the norms of science and morality on us; we impose those norms on the world

The events of this past month have led me to believe that something has changed, I see it everywhere that I look, in the faces of my students and fellow teachers, in the people that I meet while jogging or buying groceries, in the snow and in the sun and more frequently both at the same time. A sense of immeasurable happiness and an awareness of peace within myself that I have never recognized before, as if I discovered a new sense with which to understand my relation to this world, which any many ways I have created for myself. My priorities have changed to coincide with forces that are out of my control and it is in respect to these forces that I regain a sense of control. I recently discovered that I love teaching and the unique form of creativity and purpose that it provides for not only myself but also my students. I love my life here in this small little town where an hours jog around the rolling hills and bucolic settings hint at some last vestige of truth in this modern world, free of concepts without substance, just pure experience and freedom.

So with that said, much has happened within the past month and I guess what motivated me to begin writing again was what I happened to witness this morning while in the school parking lot. I get out of the car as usual and for no good reason at all I begin to stare off into the back parking lot of the local restaurant across the street from the school, like I was day dreaming or something, but then I realized that I was witnessing from start to finish a pig getting slaughtered, the students walking to class paid it no attention as if the act was meant just for me to see, sort of altering my day a little as a result.

The first of March in Romania is known as martisoare, which is the celebration of Women day and one this day you are to give women in your life these little trinkets and flowers that they pin on their label. In the local villages, red and white wool yarn was pinned on gates, tied around the horns of cattle, around the handles of buckets to protect against the stink eye and bad spirits. The legend has it that there was a time when the Sun used to turn into a young man and descent on Earth to dance a jig among the people folk, but I guess some dragon found out about this and captured him in his castle. The birds stopped singing and children couldn’t laugh anymore but no one dared to confront the dragon. One day a brave young man set out to free the Sun and this journey lasted three seasons: summer, autumn, and winter. The guy found the sun, an epic battle was had which led to the defeat of the Dragon and the release of the sun but the brave young man suffered mortal wounds and his warm blood was drained on the snow which melted and produced flowers called snowdrops, the signals of spring. And this long ridiculous story explains why these red and white colored tassels are everywhere during this time of March.

I bought myself the most perfect old mans pipe, which I picked up from a Gypsy camp. Went home to boil any villainous remnant out of the thing but instead I just boiled the cool curve out of the stem and now it looks more like a question mark than a pipe. During my most recent funeral attendance I found out that a teacher in my school is a famous accordion player, and after trying to play the accordion for the teachers at one of our teacher gatherings, he came up to me and pleaded that I stop and let him teach me. So today was our first lesson, and I can now play the Romanian equivalent to the happy birthday song called ‘la multi ani’, but instead of merely repeating that you are another year older the song requests that the lord give you everything you wish for including days with no clouds and happiness.

Anyway booked my flight to Germany for the next break, started an international current events club with my fellow teachers, I am now a Hegelian… I want to continue this conversation but it is 3 in the morn and I got class so maybe next month…