A Ode To My Ancestors

Dissection of the purgatory

I am back in the depths of the forest in Hungary’s exile. I stand in front of the ancestors’ shrine, crushed, defeated, and lost.
I hear the sound of the horses’ hooves clopping, the arrows piercing through the wind, the sun biting my cheeks while the cold caresses. The land of the Hun, the nomad accused of barbarism. Hear me. I pray to your spirits.

Hun warriror by fpista

Burning My Fear

I urge to bear the burden and rise, become light, and ride toward the sun as I approach life and ripen.
I wish to shed the chains, the foreign lands and their people have placed upon me, so that I can return to my original nature of riding freely.
I chant for the spirits of the road, the travel, the horses, and the hawks to consume my grief and free me from fear.
I call upon the barbarian inside me that conquers and destroys, only to build and construct in its place. I wish to ride until my legs disintegrate, until my arms pry open from the arrows drawn, and my throat explodes from war cries. I summon my brothers and sisters in the great ride from the past towards the future, conquering the present. I proceed without terror and fear, for I am the greatest predator in my path, and the only fear that resides in my hunt, lives within me.

Destroying Victimhood

“Charging Hun Warrior in full armour IV-V Century AD.” Artist P. Glodek.

When I hold the hand of men from faraway, I dispose of my soul and behand my spirit. I seek the amplified ability to recognize the moment when I am not welcomed in one’s heart. I track that moment of truth when my heart seemingly rests in a nest, where there is no space for me.

I seek the ability to stop abusing my non-belonging and understand that it is within my nature to roam the world, and to pay my respect to its people. May I bow my head and acknowledge my own decisions that have misled me when I tried to take up residence close to a heart that is gripped by fear, where the winds are frigid and the fires have burned to ash.
For the traveler who willfully falls into the abyss should not blame the abyss but rather himself. May I see with the eyes of the hunter-birds that soar above me scouting the path for danger.

Accepting Death

“The bow is just a tool, your heart is the real weapon!”

May I understand that everything is made out of energy and hence we are fluid, transformable. Should I continue to ride along the sun, may its fire burn away my fear of dying, allowing me to rise above the level of anxiety, denial, and suffering.
Hence, I shall understand that my father has never left me, and I will never leave him, as we have never been departed, the concept of separation does not exist. Existence only transforms.
May I refuse to fear what I don’t understand, and instead bow before it with humility and respect, for it is greater and more powerful than me.

Transforming My Wrath

If my desire for vengeance and destruction causes my eyesight to become twisted by bloodlust, may I remember that my rage is sacred.
A power awakening from the times massacrea, and I will realize that those who wronged me were guided inside my heart by my own hands.
May I channel my rage into escaping the ruination rather than destroying myself from the inside, as I am deserving of nothing less than a time and place where I can bloom.
May I be able to feel the rage boiling inside of me and respect it enough to take control over it.

Pászka Lehel attempting a world record in horseback archery

May I remove myself from the path of revenge, and shall remain on the loose again towards precision and attentiveness, avoiding the blindfold, vengeance has placed upon my eyes. Should I reach the point of a higher understanding of people and their nature, I will stop those who are with ill-intention and crush them before my feet, without them touching my skin at all.
As there is a difference between incapability and ill-intention, and shall I recognise the latter, may it be punished, and deservant to my wrath.

Men Ride Alongside Me, As I Ride Alongside Them

Nyitrai Berdin Bianka, member of the the Hungarian Horseback Archery Academy

The abuse and disrespect, the exploitation of the body and the mind, comes from a place of hopelessness.
Should I feel the pain inflicted by the hands of men again, I will remind them of the equality and the importance we all portray in this life.
If in response, I feel the lack of understanding, I shall develop the power to recongise the place without love.
When I, myself will blossom from the place of abudance and growth, the hands of treachery and wrongdoing shall automatically fall off from my shoulders.
In the place of mutual respect and fight, shall I be able to find a pair of eyes that reflect warmth and acceptance, without fear and sensless self-defense.

Learning From The Mistakes

Hungarian Horseback Archer

One must set aside all pride if they want to advance in both infrastructure and combat. I’ll lower my bow and take a moment to ponder if I notice that my heart is filled with superiority, all-knowingness, or arrogance.
The route in front of my feet might steady if I realize that I am not superior to everything around me but rather that I am one with it, and the uncertainty shall steadily even out.



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Sara S.

Sara S.

Content creator using writing as a tool to carve the stone of self expression.