That is where or dreams live, our archetypes, and we will realize them one day or another. That is where that which illuminated the imaginary character of Quixote, who according to the legend lived mad and died sane. Perhaps it was the opposite: he lived sane and died mad. Because there’s no worse madness than that of attaching importance to things of the flesh and to the things that are apparently reasonable.
Perhaps there is no greater wisdom nor greater approach to truth than to know how to dream things deeply and forcefully, to know how to unite our hearts, how to sing, speak, be together: to be able to live deeply and strongly. But it’s not a matter of dreaming like those Japanese or Chinese statues, pot-bellied, with their faces pointing to the sky.
We must dream with force, until tears come to our eyes, clenching our teeth until we feel the taste of blood in our mouth. We must dream with our muscles flexed and our eyes closed.
We must be all will striving towards that dream that we are pursuing. We must have that inner strength that is what really differentiates us from animals, that inner strength that allows us to imagine, to project, to create.
If the entire world would collapse today, if we lost our art, our science, our philosophy, our literature, if our cities and roads disappeared, if everything was destroyed, it would only take one couple to survive for the whole world to be repopulated. There would be new libraries, new poems; children would be reborn. Paintings, monuments and pyramids would be created anew, because man carries within himself the archetypes of the whole of humanity.
Each one of is the reflection, in one way or another, of all the men that exist on the Earth. Each one of us carries inside the dreams of every man, those who have lived as well as those to come.
Each one of us has within themselves a truly unsuspected potential and we must be tenacious. It is not easy to accomplish our dreams. It’s even very difficult. But we must learn to be tenacious. We must be able to make the effort to accomplish our ideals, year after year, month after month, day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute.
If we don’t have any, we can follow someone else’s ideal, but we shouldn't remain without an ideal. We don’t have stars in our hands, and yet we have learnt to guide our ships by the stars that shine in the sky. We don’t have sources of water in our breast, and yet we have learnt to drink from the source of mountains.
In the same way, if we don’t have any dreams, let’s learn how to follow an ideal, something that keeps us upright, and guides us on higher. Our exterior appearance is not enough to make us human: our humanity must come from the inside as well.
But if we are really men, as the Acropolis would have it, and as would Philosophy and Nature which are in every man, then we need to stand on our own two feet. And in our humility, we can sometimes say, kneeling before God: “I am a Man, I have dreams, I hear strange voices in me; at night, I listen to words that I don’t understand, poems and even desires. I am not a machine or a robot; I am much more, because I am a human being, and I can correct what I do; I can correct myself, improve myself. I can dream of something that is higher than me. I am not a programmed entity, I am a part of creation. In this way, we can dream of a New Man, one that doesn’t have our limitations. A New Man who, by being born a poet, can write verses. A New Man who, by being born a musician can compose melodies.
A New Man who can live ecologically, that is, not against nature, but in harmony with it, purified on the inside and the outside. A New Man that doesn’t know fear, hatred, spite.
In this obscure moment of History, in a full-blown crisis and in the middle of the collapse of all values, in the middle of the hesitations and doubts, we have dared to dream of a New Man who will be able to live in our cities without dirtying them. A New Man who will be able to use our metals to make things other than weapons. A New Man who will be able to use our papers while ignoring pornography.
A New Man with integrity. A New Man who cannot be bought, even with all the gold in the world, nor be crushed by all the lead in the universe. A Man who will be truly conscious of his immortality and that of others. A Man who will know that being a man is not being an empty and broken skeleton, but much more than that, who will know that being a Man, is being a beacon, a light in the night.
Our path is arid and hardly softened by tender dawns, but while walking in the obscurity, enlightened from time to time by the celestial phenomena, we will finally meet this man who will be New and Better than everything we have dreamt of. And we will be able to have our dreams descend. Our hands filled with seeds will receive the white dove of inspiration! And there will again be Homers who will sing, the genies of art will return. We will once again be proud to be MEN.
This accomplishing of ideals, small and great, like that of dreaming of a New Man, is nothing other than the philosophical “mechanism” that allows that realization of dreams.
Each one of us in a certain way is a dream. In a certain manner, you have dreamt me and I have dreamt you. We have all mutually dreamt each other, and we have met.
In that world of dream and illusions, let’s know what we are in reality: a silk thread, a ray of light that passes on the horizon. We are men, philosophers, we are the seeds of the New Man. We are that incoercible force that wants to do what I have repeated so many times and I say it to you again today, to do what Cervantes expresses in his Don Quixote: change the giants into windmills, and not the windmills into giants. Let us remember the moment where Don Quixote is going to attack the windmills while asserting that they are monstrous ogres and giants. And Sancho says to him: “Watch out, Master, they’re Windmills”. And the knight replies: “No, they’re ogres, they’re our enemies, let’s attack them!” He charges, lance in hand, and falls to the ground with his faithful Rosinante. Sancho then says to him: “Didn’t I tell you, Master, that they were windmills?” To which Don Quixote answers: “Didn’t I tell you, Sancho, that only Chivalry teaches certain things, and those who don’t know Chivalry don’t understand that there are giants, who when attacked, transform themselves into windmills?” This, we must learn, feel it and conserve it like the nails on each of our fingers. We must keep it in our heart and in our head. In each letter that we write, in each word that we formulate, in each moment that we are in contact with another human being; and even when we are alone, let’s always remember that we must maintain the dignity of the Human Being, that behind us, there are thousands and thousands of years of history, and ahead of us, millions of years that will come to pass.
We are but a link in the chain: we have the historical responsibility to raise the old seeds towards the New World, and to dig the furrows in the New Earth. Let’s have the necessary strength to get up in the morning, “renewed”. And no matter what we do, what we are, let’s be sure to do it in the philosophical manner.
Let’s make sure to fulfill our commitment in the best manner. Let’s always be alert, attentive. Let’s try to always be in contact with the world that, after death, is waiting to receive us, wonderfully illuminated and in the peace of duties than have been accomplished.