Out of Many, One

Having lived overseas the majority of my life, not by personal choice, but as an imposition dictated by circumstances well beyond my control, my love for the United States of America has never been an overwhelming sentiment merely dictated by birth alone. The solemn notion that love often requires an equal measure of personal self-sacrifice, always in the defense of our highest values, interests, ideas, dreams and beliefs, was never entirely lost on me. Though the Bible taught me that Israel was the promised land, my mind, heart and soul eventually settled for a finer location.

Only the reckless naiveté of youth could ever explain the choice of  distancing myself from American shores for so long. Upon my last departure from the US more than two decades ago, it was never my expectation that a fateful return would ever take so long, requiring endless years of personal self-sacrifice always in defense of dreams never entirely my own. All the unnecessary pain, blood, sweat and tears shed during these long intervening years scarred me in ways that words alone could never aptly express. Suffice to say that no man unwilling to fight for his freedom is ever truly deserving of it. Freedom only seems free for those entirely unaware of the true price paid for it.

Deeply distressing is all the hatred, violence and persecution that one is liable to face simply for defending the oneiric concept of a country where life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are not just specious words entirely devoid of true meaning. Despite having only four percent of the global population, America is the richest country on the planet, accounting for approximately one quarter of all goods produced and services rendered every year in the world. The caustic amount of envy directed at the US solely because of this unparalleled wealth and leading global standing should never be wantonly disparaged and trifled with. To say that Americans are envied the world over merely for living in the land of the free and the home of the brave is also a crass understatement.

Those who defend the American dream must be ready to face disquieting hardship and unrelenting persecution, especially when doing so overseas. The concept of fulfilling our duty to a nation that has interests all over the world can take us on journeys we never truly expected. Democratic and republican leaders are entrusted to set the country on an international course where its best interests are well defended, sometimes declaring war against enemies that can only swear retaliation. Those entrusted with this remarkable endeavor should always remind themselves of the values defended. When treading along dark paths even our shadows refuse to follow, this is paramount so as to preserve our innermost core beliefs and guiding principles.

As those forced to live far away from home can earnestly attest, losing our bearings may occasionally be a curse to tragically accompany those living in foreign lands. Lest we should constantly remind ourselves of the country from which we hail, adopting a new persona simply to fit in may eventually compromise our original identity. The pain that comes along with a change of scenery that also brings about a change of character is only revealing of the myriad personal sacrifices we may stoically feel compelled to make. Never losing sight of our original self and the highest values for which we stand is essential to preserving our own sanity. Amid trying circumstances that constantly conspire against our future well-being, remembering whom we really are is truly indispensable.

For this reason and many more, surrounding myself with American culture has always helped me to alleviate and mitigate the pain of straying so far away from my spiritual home. Films, music, books, newspapers and comfort foods have always helped create a semblance of home, even despite all that reality so bitterly has to say on this subject. Though some may simply dismiss this as alienation, the heart, mind and soul all have reasons that defy reason itself. Much more than soft power, a country's culture often conveys its most cherished beliefs, values, ideas and interests, allowing others to sample its life even while residing in the most remote of foreign lands.

In this sense, movies have always taken me places I could never truly venture alone before. The memorable stories told and beloved characters portrayed helped me feel an emotional connection to a distant spiritual home at once so far away while also impossibly close. These characters and I spoke the same language in more ways than one. Being able to fully communicate without the troubling imposition of undue language barriers was always a shared blessing. Much more than mere entertainment, movies made me feel at home even when roaming through the darkest and most perilous of distant foreign locations.

Films aside, inspirational music has also been of great avail. Though some may consider gunfire to be the true heartbeat of life, my personal vote goes to music instead. By helping us mark the times of our lives, music can revive old memories, taking us places we haven't been in ages and empowering our imagination to recall people we haven't seen in a very long time. The spiritual motivation offered can see us through bouts of intense exercise, as well as help us vanquish some of the most emotionally taxing experiences imaginable. Music that remains always true to our hearts can provide a peace of mind that helps us unwind during even the most trying times of trouble, often identifying with the lives, characters and existential dilemmas portrayed in song and dance.

Even when time and distance conspire against our fateful return, art helps create a much needed semblance of our spiritual home, something not to be taken lightly. The gravest danger of losing our bearings is also forgetting our sense of purpose. As previously stated, freedom only seems free for those entirely unaware of the true price paid for it. Though fighting to preserve it should never cost us our sense of direction, personal sacrifices along these lines are sometimes made. When always in search of the next war, a soldier may find the battlefield to have become his only true home, being the final resting place of all his best friends and enemies. If rising to the next challenge is the only way to truly honor the fallen, art may sometimes help us find our way home.

Although living this vicariously often leaves much to be desired, some of the most life altering decisions of our youth can rarely be taken back in later years. If the roads we choose in life truly define whom we really are, the ones paved with personal self-sacrifice are only for a brave and proud few. What a tragic irony that to protect all we love most in life we should sometimes have to distance ourselves from it, an onerous sacrifice borne only for good reason. No man willing to die for his freedom can forever be forced to live as a slave. This was as true of Maximus Decimus Meridius as it now is of myself. When the time comes to enjoy my freedom and finally settle down for good, though there are many countries in the world one could conceivably choose from, for some of us this choice has always been a quaint illusion. Out of many there has always been but only one.