Building an Inner Temple
When Honza decided to set out into the world, his father sat down beside him and said: “My son, if you truly need to explore mountains and valleys, the brightness of the sun and the stars, the heaviness of clouds and the lightness of the breeze, the dryness of the desert, the beauty and sorrow of life, to learn that good is good and evil is evil, if you want to feel a love that turns everything upside down, if you want and must experience all of this for yourself—very well. But listen to me for a moment. I will give you a few pieces of advice.” And so, before Honza set out on his journey, his father spoke to him and instructed him that he must be brave and courageous in order to win the hand of the most beautiful and kind-hearted princess; that no obstacle should turn him away or send him back from his path; that he would even defeat a dragon if he conquered his own fear; and that to obtain treasure, he only needed to endure and not step back from his journey. He told him to always be honest and honourable, and that even if he lost everything, he must never build his happiness on another person’s misfortune. In the end, he handed Honza a compass and blessed him on his way. “When you lose your way, my son, your compass will become your light—it will show you the path so you do not wander into eternal darkness.”
So Honza set out on his journey. Slowly, he began building a temple from his own experiences. When he found himself in trouble, he remembered his father’s advice. He saw everything—the depth of the sky and the instability of the earth, the wisdom and foolishness of people, honesty and dishonesty, a land of despair where broken and blinded people crawled in the dust of dry soil, and landscapes with tall trees covered in juicy fruits that no one ever touched, because people were afraid to climb toward them, afraid of heights. He saw the dignified and proud beauty of princesses, the graceful yet sharp simplicity of maidens, the anger and beauty of old women, the wisdom and arrogance of woodcutters and kings, and the aggression as well as compassion of soldiers. He passed through winds, tornadoes, and storms, and saw rainbows, sunrises, and sunsets. He fought on the edge of the abyss of death with an evil sorcerer. He met tireless ants who advised him on his journey, brave bees that, through their own sacrifice, stung him when he became too arrogant and self-assured, and ancient oaks that released a foul smell whenever greed awakened within him. He encountered all the foolishness, wisdom, kindness, and cruelty of the world—and of himself. The compass remained in his hand throughout the journey, perhaps out of duty, who knows why; even he did not understand it, because doubt often took hold of him.
After years of wandering, Honza returned to his father. They embraced warmly, looked silently at one another, and tears ran down their faces. Honza’s inner temple, full of experience, knowledge, sorrow, and joy, rose high into the sky. Yet to him it felt small, insignificant, almost meaningless compared to the vastness, depth, and height of the world. And yet he would not have exchanged it for all the beauty and treasures he had seen and known, because the foundations of his temple were woven from the words, tears, and smiles of his father.
Opening Word
Dear young friends,
Dear little and young friends, We welcome you to a new school year of creation, drama, and theatre. Our greatest wish is for you to come a little closer again to your inner freedom and creativity. As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote, only when a person is set free will they create—from their deepest essence, from an inner overflow. We will touch our limits, our compasses, and our freedom. We will explore the possibilities that lie within us. We will experiment, try, and create. Some things will work, some will not. That is not important. What matters is to try and not give up—to keep looking at things again and again from different angles and perspectives, and to touch the freedom and possibilities that appear to us, without fear of mistakes or failure. Because even mistakes lead us further. They open new paths and new possibilities. I wish for you to dance, sing, and create with all your warmth, passion, and intensity. Because where the heart is, there the human being is. And our inner fire and passion point to the deepest parts within us—where we meet who we truly are. That is the most important thing, because only from this depth can we continue to create and inspire the world with our work. And our learning and creation do not need to be perfect—
But let us also not forget that even in the greatest creative freedom, we need our compass—an inner order that protects us from getting lost in chaos, so that we are also able to perceive the other person, their inner temple, imagination, hopes, and wishes. And only then can we create a shared work that reaches beyond us, and even transcends ourselves.
Erika Merjavá, director of TALENT drama studio
