Have you ever had a “déjà vu” feeling or the strange impression
while seeing a place for the first time that you have been there before?
It happened to me a couple of times, but the strongest such feeling I ever had happened many years back when I was watching a
documentary about the life of Saint Catherine of Alexandria. I don’t know why, but
seeing this old, 8th century monastery in the Sinai desert was
like revisiting places of my past; it triggered a
“déjà vu” impression that kept me puzzled for days because I have never been to
Egypt, nor visited Mount Sinai.
Where did these strong connections to Saint Catherine come
from? Can they be
traced to my sincere admiration for
Saint Catherine due to her intelligence and rebellious character? It is said that, when she was 18
years old, she challenged the Roman emperor who sought to dispute her Christian ideas. Then the emperor tried to make
her his mistress, and when she refused he had her beheaded. A popular story after her death holds that St.
Catherine's body was carried by the angels to Mount Sinai and
that the monastery there was built in honor of this event.
“Because
if there's one thing that drives the Devil up a tree, it's hearing of a woman
who's smarter than he is.” — Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
What are the roots of my déjà vu feeling? Was it the oldest
monastery in the world that mattered to me or was it because it was remotely
hidden in the desert?
The desert never ceases to fascinate me with its repetitive
scenes of sand, taking me into a contemplative state and allowing me to let go of
images and pictures of the present.
"What
makes the desert beautiful,” said the little prince, “is that somewhere it hides a well..." — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (The Little
Prince)
Similar feelings happened to me when I first heard “A Horse
with No Name,” a fascinating song about going through the desert on a
horse with no purpose in mind, no worries, nobody but oneself and nature. It
was strange how this song sounded so familiar to me, as though I have been singing it for years.
What made that song so special to me? Perhaps it is because of the nameless horse,
reminding me of my desire to go on my own way, against the stream, refusing
prejudices and letting me escape my reality. Thus I can get
away from all the chaos and pressures of urban life to a
peaceful and quiet place where I can experience a time of clarity, listen to my thoughts and find my true identity.
"Where are the people?” resumed the little
prince at last. “It’s a little lonely in the desert…” “It is lonely when you’re
among people, too,” said the snake." — Antoine de
Saint-Exupéry (The Little Prince)
What made that song so familiar to me? Is it because
I eventually have to come back to my everyday reality and face my problems? Here
I am a rebellious soul, dreaming of escaping my reality on a journey through
the desert, but forced by my equally strong mind to come back and fight my
demons and fears.
What made that desert song so powerful to me is that my illusionary journey through the desert is a one of self-discovery and clarity that made me realize, and from an
early age, that running away from my troubles does not lead to any kind of resolution, since they will come back and become worse over time. I realize it’s better to face any difficulty and fight it as it
occurs.
“Inner silence promotes clarity of
mind; it makes us value the inner world; it trains us to go inside to the
source of peace and inspiration when we are faced with problems and challenges.” —Deepak Chopra
*Drawing by Hoda Maalouf
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