We never saw it coming

 
Filotimo (Φιλότιμο, Greek)

n. pride, sense of honour.  Filo – timo:  I love honour, love of honour?  Final verdict… untranslatable.

Filotimo is born of a noble soul.  It is the type of love that springs forth from gratitude.  Gratitude which cannot be contained, whose torrents rip through dam walls leaving them desolate; whose currents coax business-like floodgates to open themselves up, freeing long-standing stagnant waters.   It has no limits, nothing can hold it back.  It is not slow to understand, neither is it stupid or ignorant and though it is often wronged, it does not ‘put it down’, it does not despair because its streams are light and its movements are not burdensome.  It gives rest to the tired traveller, hope to the doubtful.  It is highly contagious to those whose eyes do not have access to mirrors.

A little fish darts and flits about without disturbing the direction of the river.  Nobody notices little fish as it travels down towards big wide sea.  It jiggles its golden fins, doing its thing, dancing with the seaweed.  Delightful, loveable, sweet.  “Hello little fish!” they cry as it passes them by, stroking them with its sensitive tail transparent.  And their tears become invisible as they merge with the briny sea.  It touched the deep’s inhabitants, one at a time, but like hard, guarded crustaceans they forgot it once out-of-sight; like the memory of a…

Little fish wonders why it cannot breath.  Its fins cease to move.  Its tail stalls listless. Delightful leaps and bounds no more.  Little goldfish lies limp at the bottom of the ocean and nobody noticed.

filotimo dies

a thousand fall by our side –

and nobody saw

 
 

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