Fate by Earth

Fate By Earth

By Katerina 

“From the earth we are born, and from the earth our fate shall be known.”

This is the line engraved on the walls of our mind from birth. You can find traces of it everywhere; at home, on the rock walls of the sacred grot, in everyday conversations… everywhere. Its there and always has been since the ancient beginnings of our village. We worship this line, as if it were a god or goddess, and to question it, would be considered a sin and looked down upon as utterly disgraceful on whomever would dare say or think such a thing. I have grown up with this line being the center of my life, of everything we do, so I should adore it as much as everyone else does. I should believe in it without any doubt whatsoever, and yet, I do not believe in it at all.

I live in a village surrounded by all the wonders mother nature can offer in the mountains deep within her bosom. In my village, she is respected above all else, for it is she who gives birth to the cold, refreshing rivers that run down from mountain tops; it is she who protects us from the savage storms that plague our land every few months; it is she who fertilizes our crops and gives us plenty; it is she who provides us with what we need. She has given us much in this life; a plentiful abundance that we cannot begin to express how much we are thankful for, and yet although she towers over us in every aspect of strength against us little beings, we make certain nooks that have become completely our own. My village is made of small houses and huts of wood and stone and other earthly materials. We have shaped paths of our own as our feet walk back and forth, molding the earth beneath into fine, dirt paths, infinite as the eyes can see; there to stay for eternity. There are even a few dirt paths that go all the way to the shore, where the adults go to fish and teach the young the same tricks, when they are not playing in the sand and water under the cold breeze and radiant sun. Through hard work, my village has created strands of crops and irrigation canals, like strings of raindrops dripping down to the horizon. We have made this nook in a whole world all our own.

On the base of one of the mountains near the village, there is a cave that opens up before you and stretches out into a somewhat dark tunnel where at the end, a small light flickers, as if calling out to you to come closer. As you walk through the cave into darkness, you can see the walls of the caves become rough on some ends and smooth on others. You walk feeling the air become thick and moist as you near the end of the cave only for it to reveal a grand hole towering above the ceiling, letting brilliant light travel through it into the cave and onto the sparkling waters shimmering underneath it on the cave floor. In the pond, there are thousands of small, round stones plaguing its’ floors, and it is here that a sacred ritual takes place.

When a baby is newly born in the village, within the first week of its birth, the parents and a couple of others go to the cave. They walk all the way to the caves end and once there, take one of the round stones that cover the ponds floors and let the babe hold it for a moment to itself. When the parents take the stone from the babe, they dip the side of the stone that pointed to the babes heart into the water and hold it to the heavenly light of the cave, to find on its face an inscription of one’s own fate.

This tradition has continued to be put in action from generation to generation—an infinite cycle—never ending. The earth and the village have always been connected, for the earth gives us life, but it also tells us our fate, or so they say, warning us to be wary that we all shall meet are end, like all on the earth’s surface must. When I was just a newborn, my mother brought me to the cave, like so many before me, to find out my fate. When my mother held my stone to the light, she was shocked by its inscription:

 “To grow with love and fly but doomed to fall too young. A heart will decide.”

My mother wept. My fate was to die young. Even though it pained my mother, she kept the stone and took it as valued treasure, like everyone did when they received their future. It is because of this place, of this sacred grot, that the line that so much reflects our life originates. The one that continuously reminds me of a death I did not ask for or want to know of. Why? Why me? Why does the earth decide? It is my life. Questions always seem to dance in my mind when I look at my stone sitting on the shelf, but it is not only here. My fate is known by many in the village, and as consequence of such, I am constantly told:

“Enjoy every moment.”, as if I am not.

“How are you feeling?”, as if they expected me to feel ill at that moment.

More times than I can count, they have said these things to me, but I know they always mean well, it is not the words exactly that make me feel irritated, but the expression they make with their eyes and the way they say it sometimes that push me to anger. They look at me with such pitiful eyes, as if I were about to die before them, or it is more like, they see me as a spirit instead of a living being. They will die just as much as I will. We will meet the exact same end, so why? —Why me?   

Today, I find myself taking escape on the shores of the running rivers in the mountains as they flow all the way to the sea in the distance. I looked to the horizon as I felt the cool water of the running river flow through my feet. I always came here to get away from it all and just enjoy the nature around me. I did not despise the earth or nature; what I disliked was my fate that I never got to choose. Strangely enough, although I have been here so many times before, it was at this moment when I realized something. The river is born from the mountains and flow to meet its end at the sea, but it does not end at all. From there it makes its own decisions as it flows freely in the never-ending sea. I realized the truth. I have a choice. I went to the sacred grot and stood before the shimmering waters of the pond. In my hand, I held my stone, and I threw it back into the pond where it derived. I will choose my own fate because it is only I that can shape it.