Pr. Dr. Dorin Octavian Picioruș
Fragrance
(novel)
*
I would talk to him about everything and, when he smiled, I knew we were on the same wavelength. A certain smile, a certain inner enlightenment of the face, which was born of itself. When he didn’t like what I said, when he didn’t agree with me, he would try to be cerebral, reserved, not to have visible gestures, although this strategy didn’t work for him, so as not to irritate me inside. But I understood, I was silent, sometimes it hurt me that he didn’t understand me, that he didn’t go further with me, in my way of seeing things – because this further would have been his real fulfillment, the one I wanted for him with all my heart – because he had his perspective already drawn out, like a sheep pen from which he didn’t want to leave. He would have wanted it, oh, he would have wanted it a lot!, but he didn’t have the courage to believe in his exit from his narrow world. And when he moved away from me and my friendship, because I wanted it, apparently, more than he was able to accept, by getting married, he began to expand his world timidly, to make it parallel to mine, to imitate me to a certain extent, but in a way that wouldn’t intersect with me all the time. Because he wanted to prove to me, like other friends of mine, that he could be on his own, that he could have life projects, even if not the giganticness that I wanted for him.
Yes, I knew they could! That they have potencies! Because that’s why I bet on them, that’s why I embraced them, that’s why I drew them to me! I wanted them to have high theological specialization, to write together, to serve together, to have large-scale theological and literary projects. But they couldn’t get out of their world! They were prisoners of their own families, their own habits. They said to do less or nothing, to make fun of their potencies, to deliberately miss, like a suicide bomber who drives his car into a bridge, even though he is a professional driver. And what could you say in the sermon at the Funeral about such a man, who gave up on himself just when he had all the makings of success in life? Asking your children to do what you don’t want to do is a pitiful thing, a gross imposture. And, even though you realized that you took the wrong path, to walk on it, on field, endlessly, when you should be reaching the big city, is again inner suicide. Because you know what you must do, but you don’t have the courage to start your real life. And, without this courage, you cannot move away from your errors, you cannot regain your dignity, you cannot look at your real path, because you have been on the wrong path for years.
All the red pepper was bought, and now it was good to have it with the tempered cabbage. All the pepper was sold, although last night it was by the kilo, and were brought in instead the green tomatoes for pickling. We, however, are waiting for the Buzău cabbage, the light one, the only one good for pickling. The sun is coming out of the cold, the mornings are getting colder, the supermarket cart had no edge and therefore it wouldn’t stay fixed on the escalator, which is why I held it in my hand and took it up and down. I pushed it, so that later it would pull me after it. And when you push things in order to go up, you exhaust yourself, because you want to go up by force and not organically, internally, and when they, the things, pull you after them, you slide into the pit of other people’s wills. Because others want to tell you how your life should look.
No, I never wanted to trace the lives of my friends and my disciples! I help each of them to be themselves. Because man needs the continuous enlightenment of God in his life. The Friend and the Duhovnik are those who help you, support you, advise you, but they do not make decisions for you. You decide every time! But if you are a godly person, if you are a person whom God always enlightens, you understand every time God speaks through people. Because His advice through them goes towards your fulfillment and not towards leading you into ravine. But I had to accept, with great inner weight – because you want to help and not to record the death – that failure is a choice and not a predestination. And if the man wants to lose himself, to commit internal suicide, you can’t do anything, even though you love him and advise him in every way, because he decides. And his unfortunate decision is the understanding of the saying that love by force is not possible. That you love her, you want her well, you see what you could do together, but if she doesn’t see what you see in her, it’s in vain. You want to climb mountains that haven’t been climbed yet, to travel to fulfilling places, to write, to live, to experiment. But if she pulls you down, she can’t be your wife, because your wife must make you fly.
