We all know this story.
It began innocently enough, or so it seemed. We also know how the story ended. The desire to be exceptional met the promise of power.
Troy is not history, I am afraid. It has many faces. Sometimes we build it from the winding streets of our own illusions — believing that beauty will give us a sense of worth, success will fill the emptiness within, or that having power over others will make us safe.
Troy does not burn all at once. It burns gradually in small compromises, ever-present doubts, and choices made without freedom.
When the fire has finally gone out, we may begin to build again upon the empty ground, with the wisdom of gratitude this time.
