First, some wanderers from the plains laid the roots and rock. Then the Romans came with the crushing weight of “civilization.” Later, the Moorish Muslims, filled with the light of inspiration and inquiry that burns bright on the Andalusian hillsides. Finally, the Christians came to carry the city into the next centuries.

After the rains washed through the aqueducts and the change of centuries carved itself into the walls of the city, we’re left with the Cordoba of today where people the world over clamor over cobblestone to marvel at the works of Jews, Christians, Muslims, Gypsies, and others.

While most of those who built this city came with fire and sword, they must have stayed for some similar reason. Guns, gods and governments didn’t make this place what it is today.

The walls of the Grand Mosque of Cordoba are weighted down with the saints and scriptures of so many. Yet, the principals that make up its foundation - the desire to penetrate into the soul of earth and heaven - resound with light and life in a language all can speak (a rose by any other name, am I right?).

It’s an inspiring place, and a humbling one too. One thing I did take away from it is that no matter which God we pray to or by what name we call the human soul, we are all more the same than we are different.

I believe that we are inherently good (I have too. The other thought is a little too crushing.). Our hearts are connected to each other and the land that made us. Imagine what we could build together if we tried.

Love you all!