Foreword
Watching the Waves Lap Against the Shore
I may yet be young in the world, but I am old enough to state this. There come times in life when the shadows gather around and dim the lands about. Outside, perhaps, there be light and sun, but inside darkness and shadows reign. One might think that one can outrun the storms and shadows, the crows and ravens, the howling winds -- but this is not so. They only follow if one turns to flee. They can only be dispatched if one turns and looks them in the eye, if one finds a face in the expressionless malignance than makes up the darkness. There is a face there, a face pleased to watch the suffering of mortals. It is said the greatest deed the devil ever did was convince the world that he wasn't there.
Out of shadows, out of foibles, one will eventually emerge, if one is blessed to emerge at all. The sooner the shadows fall, the better; the sooner the darkness gives way to light, the safer. For to dwell in shadow is to court peril outside the reach of mortal salvation, to dance with death in doubtful lands where thoughts prey upon one another, to wander lost in a realm of despair that poetry only is apt to describe. Yet it is not easy to dispel the doubts, the shadows, the crows. The light does not choose to shine only one parts of life. It either shines on all, or none. One cannot keep secrets and claim to be free of shadows -- at least, not for very long. He knows all secrets, and deceptions and falsehoods, however they may work on fellow mortals, are rendered ineffective before Him, and in the end the only person one ends up deceiving is oneself.
In closing, life teaches lessons. If one does not learn a lesson the first time, life will present a second time, albeit harsher. Until finally one will learn the lesson or perish in failure. Blunt words, perhaps, but true. And truth is a sharp sword, and asking to know the truth of one's fellow man is a perilous undertaking if one is not acquainted with the truth of one's own circumstance and nature.
Dominik Rabiej
February 23, 2004
Cambridge, Massachusetts USA
Dedication
I dedicate this anthology to my father, Roman Rabiej, on February 23rd, his birthday. My father has been and is to this day a continual guide in my life, impressing upon me the meaning of virtue. Though a professor, he never deems to lecture me on the abstract nature of virtue, preferring rather to showcase it through his life and actions. From him I learned the weight and nature of responsibility, how once it is shouldered is never to be laid aside until it is met, and thus it should not be taken upon oneself lightly. Yet it should not be shirked from, for what makes a man is what he does, not what he does not do. Arm in arm with responsibility comes discipline. Responsibility with discipline is a recipe for disaster and disappointment. But iron discipline, knowing one will do what one set out to do, no matter how small or large, no matter the obstacles that may lay across the path. We are never given a task without also being given the strength to see it through, though we may not know we possess that strength till we seek for it in the depths of our souls. Lastly, but certainly not least, the virtue of flexibility, the knowledge that one man alone does not know all, and it is wiser to bend one's path rather than walk off a cliff. My father, in the twenty years he has watched over me, guided me, taught me, played with me, lived with me and above all loved me, embodies these three virtues and through his instruction of both word and deed, have I been able to gain understanding of what it means to be a man and how I am to go about proceeding upon the path to true manhood. For that, father, you have my love and gratitude. Happy Birthday, or in Polish, Sto Lat!.
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