The Flight of the Rocketman

"Tell me, Xeo," she said softly. "Do you ever... have you ever asked anything just for yourself?"

I replied that I did not understand the lady's question/

"I command one other thing of you. Will you perform it?"

I swore I would.

"I order you one day to take an action purely for your own sake and not in service to another. You will know when the time comes. Promise me. Say it aloud."

"I promise, lady."

- Gates of Fire by Steven Pressfield

I've finished reading the book and once again, I find myself in tears before bounded pages filled with words. There are so many beautiful passages that I wish to impart here on the journals of the Rocketman but fear I might ruin the book for others and stay my hand from this task. But what a beautiful book!

If only we can find it within ourselves the courage to be as honourable and as courageous. I wish I were as honourable and as a courageous. Unfortunately, I am a survivor and I will do what I can to move on. My morals flex and curve at the thought of losing something dear to me and I'd rather lie, cheat and steal than lose a loved one. I suppose, at one point, there is courage in that, but if I found myself standing side by side with the Spartan phalanx, I will find myself sorely outmatched in purity of spirit.

I am glad of my convictions and that, yes, I will lie, cheat and steal for the people that I dearly love. But at one point in time, I would have to look back in my life and ask myself whether the sacrifice on my honour and morals were purely out of love and did selfish reasons creep in. My need for love and respect and admiration is one suspicious culprit to my unwholesome methods and deeds. In seeking their love and approval, have I sacrificed my own personhood?

These questions will not linger. I am in the throes of passion from a powerful book about true courage, honour, loyalty and patriotism. It is a book about love and respect and strength of character. It is about the indomitable power of the soul and the depths of which it can conjure up strength, power and might. It is about valour and, ultimately, about staking a claim for yourself, of who you are and what you believe in.

In the end, it is about faith. Faith in yourself and faith in the man beside you, even if you don't know who that person is.

I look back at myself and question whether I have this sort of Faith and whether it is strong enough to carry me through. There is nothing wrong with being a survivor. There is nothing wrong with seeking admiration, praise, love and respect. There is nothing wrong with me, really.

But I would give up so much to be able to stand up in a crowd, with the knowledge that I have the soul of Spartan warrior, faced with insurmountable odds and say to the face of my enemy when he asks me to surrender my arms, Molon Labe, "come and get them."