At that, Thales walked away without a look back.
Pythagoras deemed that somehow his pace became slothful, the curve of his back more accentuated and his hand trembled more than usual on his wand.
So long, Master… Pythagoras murmured, his heart aching. I shall miss you too…
* * *
And so, on a night lit by a full moon, Pythagoras left Miletus, sailing to Samos, his second country. At the time, the Lydian king Croesus ruled all the towns of Asia Minor, including Samos. The Great Persian King, Cyrus II, defeated and killed Croesus and seized all the towns under his Achaemenid Empire. History marked the time around 547 BCE when his Persian general Harpagus imposed his control on almost all the Greek-Ionian towns. Consequently, the political situation in the rest of the Greek world changed in a significant way.
When Pythagoras reached Samos, turmoil still prevailed. He worried that the inherent tension caused by the Persian rapid control would be an impediment to his studies. Without hesitation, he decided to follow the advice of Thales at once and pursue his quest for knowledge in Phoenica and Egypt.
On the third day, he embarked on a Phoenician ship in destination to Phoenicia. The sun lowered in the horizon when the ship moved away from the isle. Standing on the deck, his hand on the rail, Pythagoras reflected on the education acquired in the past five years. He acknowledged that all these intellectual acquisitions constituted only a simple introduction into a world of a different nature; a world that only a few people would dare to approach.
Through the previous ages, many had tried to venture into the deep secrets of knowledge and failed to persevere on that mysterious path. The reason could only be the fear that confined humans in the realm of illusion of a world created only by their weak minds. Such limitation could only yield to them the familiar and the complacent of what their aptitude could be; simply dormant minds.
On board, Pythagoras continued his meditation. The breeze wafted to him the freshness of the ocean air and its distinctive smell. Droplets of water sparkled on his face. He leant his elbows on the banister to gaze at the mysterious depth of the ocean.
To know thyself… was the most difficult thing in life. He remembered that answer by Thales.
“Man, know thyself... You will know the secrets of the Universe and the gods”. He recalled the words of his mother; wisdom inscribed at the temple of Apollo in Delphi.
“Man, know thyself... You will know the secrets of the Universe and the gods”, he repeated out loud.
Through his diverse readings of late, Pythagoras had discovered that such wisdom, first taught by Enoch-Hermes-Tautus, the father of wisdom, was basic to the mysteries of Egypt, Canaan-Phoenicia, India, and Babylon. Pythagoras craved to know himself as the rare Initiates had done before him.
However, the path towards such achievement would ensue difficult to undertake as it required from the seeker both the will and the faith. Pythagoras harbored no doubt in his mind that to reach such a marvelous goal, he should fully commit himself.
He admitted to himself that his previous studies in Poetry, Music, and Cosmogony, as well as in Geometry, Astronomy, Astrology and Theology had revealed to him nothing more than an alluring glimpse of the Reality he sought.
Many questions hustled and bustled in his hungry mind while his eyes browsed the vast sea and the ship moved forward.
How does the phenomenal world function? What is the essence of the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness? How could we direct our vital energy? How could one indulge in the dimension of the spirit and the psyche?
The answers to such queries, he deemed, lurked simply between the lines of his completed studies. They were riddles that could be solved. He grasped the certainty that he would have to walk the path of Hokmah, Wisdom, and remained totally awakened and aware of its sagacity.
He lifted his eyes to the sky and breathed in deeply with a sense of relief. Right! Once I gain that infinite knowledge, once I know myself, I shall know the secrets of the gods and the universe!
He smiled in defiance…
.3.
Temples of Canaan-Phoenicia
The trip from the city of Miletus towards the Phoenician land was uneventful, yet filled with hopes and aspirations for Pythagoras. All the way along the Mediterranean Sea, he recalled with fondness the past five years he had spent in the Ionian Isles, seeking education with great teachers.
When the ship approached the port of Saydoun, a few days later, he inhaled deeply the smell of his Ancestors in the blend of aromas drifting to him from the shore. Only then did he realize the real extent of his ache towards his country of origin. He has missed it indeed! His longing turned to trepidation when a few minutes later, the ship slowed down at the proximity of the shore, and made a smooth maneuvering towards the ancient long pier. The active mood, sound and smell of the busiest harbor of all time in the Mediterranean world blasted him. His heartbeat precipitated and grabbed him by the throat.
The ship finally docked.
At this breathtaking moment, Pythagoras disembarked with quick steps. The instant he touched the firm land of his Ancestors, he went down on his knees, laid his trembling hands on the soft sand to sense its ancient power, and, with loving deference, bent to kiss the ground. Home! His heart rejoiced. He grabbed sands in his hands, and stood back on his feet, gazing far towards the city with eyes blurred with tears.
Shouts on the pier brought him back to his senses. He grinned at the scenes that animated the port around him. Families received their beloved. Porters rushed to potential clients. Sailors bustled on their final tasks. Buyers dashed to merchants who showed off their newly imported products with grand smiles.
The July afternoon sun blasted in full, and Pythagoras decided to hit the road home without further ado. His luggage could wait for tomorrow. The ship would not sail soon and the captain had agreed to keep them on board until the next day.
Reaching the Souk, Pythagoras meandered through its narrow roads. Memories of his father gushed at him. He could almost see him again around the market selling his products, discussing prices, laughing with his peers. Pythagoras remembered watching him with the pride of a child, as he traded between Loubnan and Greece. Suddenly, a tear blistered in the corner of his eye…
“We have fine pieces of glass! We have pottery, too!” A merchant called out in a rhythmic tone that resembled the tempo of a kind of song he seemed to recall enjoying.
Pythagoras snatched his thoughts away from his memories and forced himself back into the present.
“We have Royal Purple! The Robe of Life!” A call propounded in a dexterous rhythm, similar to the previous. The voices of the sellers on all sides formed together a spontaneous musical concert.
Pythagoras chuckled in glee and, in the silence of his heart, wished prosperity and success for all of his countrymen.
In a light spirit, he left the souk, heading North through a paved alley of flowery shrubs and cypress trees. He hastened his steps towards the residential area twenty miles farther ahead. Emotion slowed him down upon nearing his parent’s house. His heart beat faster. He felt like laughing out loud. His eyes blurred. Home again!
The door flew opened before he even knocked. In the blink of an eye, the form of a woman, who might have seen him from the window, dashed for him, grabbed him tightly, wept words of love, hailed words of greeting and praised God El for his safety. The soft voice of his childhood, to which he had first awakened to this life, engulfed him in its motherly love. He, the grown up man, the scholar of wise men, the learner of self-control, regressed to the state of infancy as both mother and son lived the compelling emotion of their reunion.
“Mother…,” he finally managed to murmur and, grabbing her by the forearms, he gently pushed her away to look at her face. Her mid-fifties did not alter her beauty whatsoever, on the contrary!
“Son! My beloved son!” She repeated again and again, as if the intensity of the moment impeded her to utter any more than these words. Her eyes, bright with tears and j
oy studied his. Her trembling hands seized his face, shaped his features and caressed his cheeks.
Pythagoras feared the emotion would be too strong for her to handle. He cleared his throat twice to urge her softly, “Let’s go inside, mother.”
His arm enfolded her shoulders and he led her inside and straight to the couch. He sat at her side, holding her hands, and smiling at her with affection.
“No luggage?” She suddenly blurted out fearfully. “You are not coming to stay?”
“Of course I am, mother!” he rushed to ease down her rising anxiety. “I was in a rush to see you so I left them in the ship for tomorrow.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them with loving respect.
She smiled brightly, yet her tears would not dry on her face. “My beloved son… almost five years…,” she murmured with some trouble. “You know? Time has been slow, too slow… waiting for you. I counted the days, the weeks, the months. The years slipped away one after the other…,” Parthenis related, in those few words, all the anxiety she had lived in his absence.
“I’m sorry, mother, to have put you through this,” he apologized with sincerity. “I missed you too, but time is wise, I tell you. No matter how or for how long it runs, it always carries along new and great discoveries.”
Parthenis froze in awe and scrutinized him with curiosity. He inwardly smiled at her patent realization that her son belonged now to a circle of a different nature.
The circle of a new life that propels, in neither slow nor fast rhythms, but in that of a single beat; articulates words of tranquility, peace, and wisdom.
“May the God El bless you always my son,” she said after a while. “I have prayed every day that He may protect you and guide you in your expedition. Now, I know that your journey was really blessed,” she ascertained with finality.
Pythagoras smiled at the hint of pride in her statement, yet restrained from any comment.
Silence prevailed for some time, each in their deep thoughts.
“Mother, where are my brothers?” he finally asked in a murmur, trying to keep his eyes opened.
“They are still at the Souk…,” she answered, turning to him.
And before sleep enfolded him in its restful realm, he perceived the soft voice whispering tenderly, “Welcome home, son.”
* * *
Early the next day, Pythagoras woke up with renewed energy. The delicious aroma of local cakes and fresh milk wafted to his room from the backyard. He sprinted to the window and glanced at his brothers settled at the breakfast table. He had truly missed those delicious cakes of his mother. He hurried to put on his tunic with a beam of anticipation. Home again!
He rushed out of his room and to the garden, eager to meet his brothers again. Less emotional than his reunion with his mother the previous day, this reencounter with his brothers was nevertheless impelled by cheers and warm greetings. They had indeed grown up, these beloved brothers of his, to be able to control their tears of joy and endorse a merry attitude!
Reunited again, the family sat around their meal. Before they took their breakfast, they saluted the soul of their father, who rested in peace in the abode of the Eternal.
They soon became engrossed in catching up on the years they had missed in each other’s lives. Thus, Pythagoras came to know, with pleasure, that both his siblings excelled at their careers, one as a trader and the other as an artisan. Parthenis, meanwhile, seemed to delight in every moment of her family get-together.
“How is your uncle, Pythagoras?” she finally managed to inquire.
“The wise Pherecydes, dear mother, is getting wiser, day by day!” He replied in good humor. “He is truly close, so close, yet….” His words remained suspended in the air. He wondered how to explain to her his deep perception on a matter that was beyond her understanding. He then smiled at her and said, “He is fine, mother.”
His brothers stood up then, to start their working day. By turns, they tapped him on the back in a friendly manner, leaned to kiss their mother on the cheek and left with their good wishes for a good day to all.
Alone now with his mother, Pythagoras conveyed to her his intentions to pursue his quest for knowledge and wisdom in the educational centers and the temples of his homeland. She demonstrated enthusiasm in encouraging him and her blatant faith in him touched him deeply, so did the adoring smile she granted him in return. No more than a few days afterwards, Pythagoras undertook a dedicatory journey to Sur to visit the grave of his father; his first instructor. Facing the marble headstone with the memorial sculpture of his father, that afternoon, he read in a whisper: “Mnesarchus, the notorious wealthy trader.”
Tears betrayed his self-control. He swallowed hard, inhaled deeply and lifted his face to the sky, striving to master his emotions as Thales had taught him. Recalling his Master did him well. The memory of their discussion on the concept of death flashed in his mind, and so did those words of wisdom.
He glanced around the graveyard of his Ancestors and murmured, “Such is life, after all. Every instant some people die, and some are born. It is a never-ending cycle that would definitely reach - if there is truly an end - a state of transformation!”
He deposited some flowers on the tomb and remained bent, in his prayers. Before he stood up to leave, he murmured softly into the sweeping breeze, “Father… may the God El, the Most High, bless your soul. Rest in peace.”
Heading out, he stopped for a moment at the gate and turned a last look at the cemetery. Deep in thoughts and prayers, his mind spoke to his aching heart.
Life and Death…
What a strange phenomenon indeed!
It utterly controls our mundane existence.
Although life and death are one against the other, both are inseparable and inevitable.
With a lighter heart and a new wisdom, he climbed into the horse-carriage after ordering the rider to head back to Saydoun. His plans awaited him in his hometown and he was keen to proceed.
* * *
Saydoun stood out as one of the most famous Phoenician cities at the time. Aside from the fishermen who lived and prospered in that coastal city, fishers of men emerged from the region, taught the nation and spread around. Henceforth, the coastal city became an educational center sought by many of those in quest of a deeper knowledge of life. From Saydoun, also surged exceptional men, like Mochus, born not long before Pythagoras; a Kabir[15] of Canaan-Phoenicia; the land of civilized humanity.
A physicist and a teacher of the science of Anatomy, Mochus had shone for his scientific skills and profound insight on Sophia, or wisdom. His reputation extended throughout the Mediterranean world. While most people indulged in believing superstitions, Mochus had adopted reason and calculation. He had discovered the particle of matter that could be decomposed and called it the Tom[16]. In consequence, he came to be the first person ever to theorize on the existence of the particle.
The Tom is decomposable, Mochus had taught in his theory.
Highly impressed, Pythagoras pondered over the cerebral ability of Mochus that had brought him to discover such a decomposition.
He must have been a genius!
Apart from his close circle of students, Mochus had kept the method concealed. However, such a great discovery could not remain padlocked for long and it had started to spread recently.
Pythagoras first learned about Mochus and his school from Pherecydes and Thales. Unfortunately, Mochus[17] was long since dead when Pythagoras started his earliest quests for knowledge. Thus, upon his return to Saydoun, he joined the descendents of Mochus who initiated him for months in the sacred teachings. As such, Pythagoras came to learn the theory of the Tom, known also as the First Essence, and defined as the primary principal of the total existence of the whole universe. These teachings also included studies in Cosmogony, Physics and the Science of Anatomy. He, in reality, opened his mind to the internal and external body organs. He learned how they functioned, and how the whole body acted as a cosmic element. In short, he came to
meet with the Microcosm that he was.
During a lecture that Pythagoras attended at a major educational center of Saydoun, he heeded the wise masters with their long beard and capes. That day, they narrated the story of a great Priest-King. A descendant of Saydoun, the founder of the city, his name was Melchisedeck.
“Melki-Sedek was a Kabir in the Land of Canaan,” one of the wise men declared. “The fact that he was such an extraordinary and righteous man created a legend around him stating that he had no father and no mother.”
“He was a High Priest, probably the first High Priest of our God the Most High, Al-Elyon,” another wise man stepped in. “Being a Kabir, he is said to have also initiated Abra-om[18] the Aramean into our Phoenician religion of Love and Peace.”
The eldest sage declared then, “In the name of the God AL, Melki-Sedek performed the most sacred ritual of all times, that of the Bread and Wine. He reigned powerfully over Ur-Shalim as a King-Priest of Peace!”
Fascinated, Pythagoras pledged inwardly not to miss any of these lectures. Thus, with every conference attended and newer information acquired, he delighted more and more on the topics tackled.
That particular day, the sages related how, some few hundred years ago the Saydonian priests had developed the primitive musical forms into what would come to be called the Sacred Music. Eventually, it became one of the most essential ingredients in holy ceremonies and religious rituals.
“Music! Why music? We often ask ourselves. How does it affect us?” One of the masters proposed. “Does anyone in this group know?”
At the silent response of the group of students, Pythagoras decided to advance his personal concept. Confident and poised, he stated his thoughts.
“Music enters the heart to awaken our deepest and noblest emotions. It refines our mind and calms down our restless and fierce desires. Consequently it releases the spirit into a world of a higher nature.”
Pythagoras the Mathemagician Page 9