The Garden* in Athens was the main campus of the Epicurean school where lectures could be heard. Apparently Epicurus' backyard.
I've been in his 'garden' all day today, and I'm very fortunate that most things that come to my mind during the day I can share at some point with someone who is searching for 'elusive answers' to life's deafening questions (not that it necessarily answers their soul searching, but at least it doesn't wear out the same old metaphors).
Today the entry into the garden was music. A guitar given to me by an interesting bloke who has very little interest in my philosophy, but a heart that wants music to do something...
I'm guessing here, 'cause he's not sharing too much of his philosophy, but what he did share was a passion for re-stringing a guitar! And that, I admired greatly. The detail was very important to tuning, just as one example. The attention to detail was inspiring, and then, when I handed the instrument over, that moment was indescribable. Will I try? OK, you twisted my arm...
It was a sense of something, it was important, and I may never know why in detail. What I do know is that the guy who restrung had some intention of the instrument being important (and it is), and my intention was to keep a conversation going about life and passion, which brings me back to Epicurus.
I'm not talking about dance on the coffee table kind of passion, I'm hinting at a slow burning sense of connection to something... I'm struggling for words again (but if they come I'll get back to you).
Music is very important, words are very important. Today the key for me was the links between three people with very different angles on the world. We were connected by a guitar. I don't know where the story may go, but I know the instrument allowed us to share stuff that's not always that easy to put on the table...
Duck strums, and listens
* Footnote: "Dear Guest, here you will do well to tarry; here our highest good is pleasure.” The caretaker of that abode, a friendly host, will be ready for you; he will welcome you with barley-meal, and serve you water also in abundance, with these words: “Have you not been well entertained? This garden does not whet your appetite; but quenches it. Nor does it make you more thirsty with every drink; it slakes the thirst with a natural cure – a cure that requires no fee. It is with this type of pleasure that I have grown old.”