I am a voice crying in the wilderness. I am here and I am shouting into the void.
“A voice crying in the wilderness,” in the language of the church, signifies a futile appeal, an expression of despair with no hope of a response. Who would cry out in the wilderness? I, on the contrary, know that today many people live in a wilderness: loneliness, meaninglessness, emptiness, and a thirst for life that overflows with meaning, fullness, emotions, energy, and a result that will remain even when you have finished your journey—in a word, life in abundance.
Many great figures were in such a wilderness before they began their great service. Remember Moses, Elijah, John the Baptist, Jesus of Nazareth. I am not a great one, but I too have been in such a wilderness. I know firsthand what it’s like to search day after day for a sip of life, just as a wanderer searches for a sip of water, for shade and rest. But I also know that only by passing through the wilderness can one begin something great.
I decorated my own wilderness with various backdrops, filled it with noise: parties, entertainment, experiences, discussions on profoud topics, traveling, friends, career—noise that would distract me from the thought of emptiness. But when the noise died down and the friends dispersed, I was left alone with the same questions I had been running from so desperately: well, so what? What is all this for? What are you for? To what end? And no matter what substitute I offered in response to these questions—nothing helped.
I greedily searched for a meaning that could explain the purpose of “all-this” and my place in the story, how to live meaningfully, what to do to, while burning out, still give warmth. I filtered many resonant and pompous answers from philosophy, religion, and science through myself, seeking an internal reflection to quench the thirst, but all in vain, each time only revealing a greater chasm demanding to be filled. Twenty-six years passed since I first began to question the meaning of life, until one day I heard about something that transformed my life. There, in the wilderness, I found a guiding star, by following which I emerged from the desert. It is a dream, a myth, a vision, a perspective, but it is also the most real reality that helped me find the most rational explanation and answers to those big questions that had tormented me since my first conscious search in early youth.
If you are in the wilderness, I am screaming to you. I am looking for you. You don’t have to stay there. I have good news. There is a way out. I invite you to come with me. I will tell you what I learned in my wilderness, what helped me find meaning, vision, goals, desire, and energy. My life path is different from yours, and perhaps not everything will suit you, but I want to give you a perspective, show you the questions, and guide you toward the answers. When you have a map, a compass, and landmarks, you can chart your own course. Leave the wilderness. We need you in this world, your talents, your experience, and your life’s warmth.