I’m entering my ninth month here in Kyrgyzstan, and it feels as though the pangs of a new birth are imminent. A woman in blue, whose penchant is more for seasonal analogies, likens my present moment to the end of winter and the start of spring. Yet, whatever the rhetorical figure used, the situation seems to be that the many gambles I took coming here, to the heart of the vast Eurasian landmass, appear to be paying off.
Professional, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual opportunities are appearing that, I firmly believe, simply would not have manifested in the West. As I told everyone what I hoped would happen, by the grace of God, I am working around the system, and best of all, finding the various ways I can make my unique contributions to the future. And I’m finding my way through the dust and murk not in any trailblazing, groundbreaking manner, just in a way, my way. And that’s really the issue I want to explore here, in my first post after several months.
What provoked me to finally write something, though, were not just particular landmarks along my journey heretofore, but a concern over the manner in which the journey has been embarked upon so far — a concern, in truth, that is really for the manner in which the journey shall be embarked upon going forward. This, however, is the microscopic concern; the macroscopic concern is also about the human journey, not just where we are going as a species and why, but how. Half-way through my thirty-second year, I am speeding away from my odd Belgian period of re-teenagedom, while, as it is often said in the Bahá’í scriptures, humanity is hurtling out from its adolescence. In the dawning adulthood to come, what kind of man shall I be, and which Mankind shall we be?