Elia is a modern philosopher and man of wisdom who travels the world with his disciples and offers his views on both ancient and current issues.  He is the latest stage in the evolution of men of wisdom; he speaks freely and fallibly, is not a saint or prophet, and is not out to set up a religion.  At every stage of his travels his stresses this point:  that he is but a man, but that human wisdom is of sepreme and sublime value.  As always, his enjoins his listeners to self-awareness and critical thinking, and bids them to start their inner journey and to find themselves before they seek externally.

On Melancholy

While traveling in the desert with his disciples, Elia gazed upon the huge golden expanses and his breathing quieted and became very slow.  The sands glittered in unison and created soul-tempting mirages upon the horizon. 

But as zealously as the sun burns the earth in daytime, it hurriedly sinks into oblivion at the end of the day.  Elia gazed upon the sunset with yearning heart and tender feeling, and spoke to his disciples:

“At nighttime a sea of sadness and desolation descends upon you.  Your eyes are veiled with melancholy and your heart is coated with black soot.  The primordial pain fills the recesses of your interior; a black leaden cage entraps you.

But I hear the tender of heart asking:  ‘How can we escape the treadmill of depression!  We have long carried our invisible shackles to the temple and to the school, and now we have mustered the strength to bannish the phantom of melancholy.  The horses of the apocalypse have long dragged us across their bogs of death.  O, Teacher, we seek redemption from the melancholy of death.’

I have seen the sagas of your great sufferers, and have carried the yoke of melancholy myself.  At one time my greatest momument was my pillar of tears and blood.  But now I have erected a monument to the will to life.

Wherein lies your will to life, and your will to joy?  Nurse your pain as you would a babe, and raise to maturity.  Feed it with the best golden wheat from your soul, and suckle it with your finest milk of innocence .  And when it has ripened, make no enemy of it, but make it your dearest friend.

And then, your greatest enemy, your robber of life, will have become your greatest friend.  And it will be as if you had been friends for years, too.  And you will discover, my brother, you will discover in your wakeful vision that that bawling babe has always been your most mature friend.

To the bearers of melancholy I write these words in stone:  Nurse your baby well.  Tear down the pillar of tears and blood and erect a monument to the will to life.