Many of the great historical writers and philosophers (such as Pindar, Virgil, and Cicero) wrote of a place called Hyperborea. An “unknown land” (terra incognita) at the back of the North Wind. A place where people lived lives of complete happiness for one thousand years. The legend told that – whether by sea or by land – the path to Hyperborea was not easy to find.
Of course today, following centuries of exploration and discovery, there exists no such “unknown land” for us to hope for. We are destined to live our lives in front of the North Wind and hope that like the great canyons, the winds (often brutal) force will be used to carve us into something beautiful.
But still … it is nice to dream of a place where we could ship our pain, suffering, and loneliness, never to be seen again.
Never the Muse is absent
from their ways: lyres clash and flutes cry
and everywhere maiden choruses whirling.
Neither disease nor bitter old age is mixed
in their sacred blood; far from labor and battle they live.
Neither by ship nor on foot would you find
the marvelous road to the assembly of the Hyperboreans.
(Tenth Pythian Ode ~Pindar)