The Adventiade 2025 - Round II

This week’s challenge is actually one I like - probably because I enjoy writing down reflections. That said, work definitely got in the way again. This week felt especially busy, with everyone trying to squeeze in time with friends, colleagues, and office parties over the weekend before Christmas Eve and family gatherings. Somewhere in all that, finding quiet time to sit and reflect became a bit of a challenge too. And so, here I am - entering late again.

Anyhow, it took me quite some time to think of a character who truly resembles me - or at least comes close to my personality. Not because I think of myself as unique or eccentric; quite the opposite, really. I’m plain and ordinary… maybe even boring. And let’s be honest - who wants to write about boring?

But I would have easily chosen Bilbo Baggins, simply because I’m drawn to his lifestyle in the Shire. A quiet, simple life, unhurried and comfortable - that’s something I genuinely aspire to.

But then this got me thinking… because there’s definitely another character I aspire to be. One I really, really like. So much so that whenever he has a dialogue or monologue in the book, I find myself pausing - just to sit with it and reflect. And I even wrote about him here which was a very long time ago.

It’s Elder Zosima from The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoyevsky.

To be clear, I’m not aspiring to be a monk - or a revered Russian Orthodox spiritual elder, for that matter.

What draws me to Elder Zosima isn’t his status or title - far from it! I’ve never really put much regard in someone’s role, status, or label. Whether you’re an engineer or a farmer, a musicologist or a homeless beggar, that hardly defines who we are if we’re being honest.

So it isn’t about his title, it’s the way he embodies compassion, wisdom, and presence. He appears early in the novel, offering a series of teachings and stories that constantly invite reflection. Dostoyevsky seems to deliberately test his ideas against cruelty, doubt, scandal, and the harsh realities that unfold later in the story.

And he often provides grounded responses to Ivan’s sharp intellectual critiques or Mitya’s impulsive actions, or serving as a steady moral anchor and a strong foundation for Alyosha. There’s a depth to him, a calm clarity that seems to come from truly understanding people and life itself.

And yes, he’s very old - maybe that’s part of why I’ve longed to grow old myself, hoping to gain even a fraction of his perspective. But old age alone doesn’t guarantee wisdom. Some may attain it, but not everyone.

Whenever he speaks, it’s always an invitation to pause, reflect, and feel more fully. It’s incredible how a person can remain so composed, seemingly untouched by anything. You can cry, shout, or act as wildly as you want, and he remains the same - steady and calm.

I wonder how one becomes like that. I’m pretty sure it has a lot to do with age, having lived long enough to accumulate experiences and reflect deeply on them over the years. Perhaps such wisdom also requires a kind of breaking of the self, shaped through enduring hardship and difficult trials.

I don’t know if I’ll ever come close to that kind of wisdom or steadiness. It may take a lifetime or it may never happen at all. Nevertheless, I’m still grateful for this challenge, if only because it gave me the space to think it through.