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"Pilgrims of Hope"
This is the story of Course Flow, a collective of wonderful, revolutionary individuals, each a bright and resilient character who stands steadfast in the face of their trials. Their journey is one of unity, creativity, and perseverance.
Written by Sofia Alexa, one of the participants herself, this tale captures the essence of a group bound together by shared ideals and a desire to make a difference. Through challenges and triumphs, Courses Flow forges ahead, leaving an indelible mark on the world.
Join us as we explore the extraordinary lives and experiences of these remarkable people.
One day, from different corners of the world, weary pilgrims began their journey. They all met at the Mountain of Silence, in the House of Harmony, where Wisdom and the Angel awaited them. These travelers were searching for hope, exhausted from their battles for survival. Each one of them was tired of something: some from the burden of others' troubles and debts, some from cruelty, some from trying to fill the emptiness in their lives with parodies of love, and others from striving to meet impossible expectations. In a world of stereotypes and standards, it’s easy to lose oneself and the connection to the core of your soul—your Firefly, which shines in the silence under the light of the Creator’s love and care. Many people live lives that are not truly their own: lives in masks, lives in chains, lives without the right to be themselves.
The pilgrims didn’t grow up in paradise either, but their story began to change. A miracle was approaching their lives on quiet steps, as the Angel looked on with kindness and Wisdom began to sweep away the cobwebs of doubt that blocked the path to their Fireflies. The road to oneself, through the overgrown confusion of foreign mazes.
One pilgrim had a heart as pure as light. When you looked at her, you remembered everything good that exists in this world. She had the face you’d see on icons of saints, though she didn’t consider herself one. She would have to follow her heart.
Another pilgrim was a duet of mind and soul. The mind often tried to overshadow the soul, perhaps in an attempt to protect that delicate, tender piece of the universe. But the soul was wise and free-spirited on its own. She longed to be alone with herself, with her feelings and dreams, to sit in silence with herself, to gaze at the starry sky, to read, to wander.
Among the pilgrims was also a courageous, brave, unyielding young woman. She danced from the soul and moved forward, though the journey was hardest for her. She defended her right to her own will and choice in life, inspiring others. Yet, she began to doubt herself. And so, she came to the House of Harmony on the Mountain of Silence, just at the right time.
Young Bravery wanted to bring goodness to people in distant lands. Laughing and helping, she was full of desire to walk her path, but in a world of doubt, her faith was shaken, and she had to part with her dream in tears. But they didn’t let the dream die on the Mountain of Silence in the House of Harmony. And when Young Bravery stumbled over doubts, they offered her both hands and wings.
Wisdom gently scolded with love, and the Angel watched with kind, yet stern, eyes. She had to begin her path—her own, as herself.
In the House of Harmony, there was one beloved pilgrim who had spent many years helping angelic souls in need. She embodied Love and Care. She also made treats for everyone and shared stories from her life—both funny and sad, stories that touched the soul. The pilgrims loved to talk with her heart-to-heart and longed to embrace her. They also wished that she would take care of herself, too. Their silent wishes gathered into a force of hope for Love and Care. For she was so needed in the world!
The Good Angel embraced all the pilgrims with wings of prayer, even when they didn’t know it. He guarded and protected everyone—except himself. And the pilgrims so wanted their dear friend to take care of himself, to see and heal his own wounds too.
On the Mountain of Silence, in the House of Harmony, they would read books in the evenings. The Angel would light the fireplace, creating a cozy atmosphere for everyone. In the firelight, his eyes shone with a special glow. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
In this age of inhuman technologies that steal life, this was an oasis of real human connection. Wisdom read a funny and touching story, passing the book to a girl with eyes as deep as the sky and sea combined when she grew tired.
The pilgrims longed to meet the heroine of the story—Suki, a kind, weary woman. How well she would fit in with the group, unlike her complicated and humorous mother, uncrowned only due to the mistake of mere mortals! Shadows of similar madams tirelessly followed both the bookish and real heroines. The heavy artillery consisted of royal grandmothers in crowns and scepters, like coachmen driving in search of an unattainable ideal.
Ah, those inner judges, executioners, critics, guardians, saviors, and the infamous "who knows who"! How much life energy they drain from people. Especially the agents of "who knows who," who masquerade as whomever they please. Among them were theatrical martyrs, saintly sacrificers, notorious swindlers, and stylists-image makers. The inner aggressors, having seized the space, controlled everything: life, self-perception, and relationships with others, deciding what and who should exist or not.
But on the Mountain of Silence, in the House of Harmony, they were unmasked, moved aside. Some were sent off in no uncertain terms—oh, how I love sending off the messengers!
It was time to find the path to their Fireflies—the true parts of themselves, on the breath of the wind in the gentle silence. Through tears and hardships, through clever explanations used by inner occupation and darkness, the Fireflies shone through. They were alive and beautiful—each their own Firefly!
How hard it is in a world of doubts and stereotypes to find yourself! Each pilgrim was unique. Some had endured wars, others the captivity of shadows, some had suffered lovelessness and cruelty, others pain and betrayal. They were all wounded children who had to grow up and look not at their wounds, but at how they needed to understand and love those who inflicted them. But should they?
Meanwhile, all of them were Fireflies. Sweet, kind pilgrims, who still had to choose their own path—truly their own, as themselves.
Among them was one Good Soul, who helped others but was strict and demanding of herself. She had yet to know her true self. Light as a Feather, she thought herself a heavy person. Her multifaceted talent had polished someone else’s facets for many years, and she was very tired because of it.
In this typhoon of imposed standards, everything had turned upside down: life seemed worthless, dreams naive and foolish, the important unimportant, and the unimportant important. Everything was so tangled. Living in a world not your own, seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes, following a light that’s not your own, it’s easy to get lost. To live, you need to feel the earth. To survive, you need to avoid danger. To blossom, you need to search for yourself. Everyone needs their own. Their own time, their own place, their own kind fellow travelers at a certain moment in life.
Simple truths say: love is good, evil is lovelessness. In love, the Fireflies of the Soul bloom.
