I’ve fallen behind with my blogging while concentrating on other things. Ordinarily I don’t post news events however this one was significant because it relates to telling true stories.
Mexican journalist Javier Valdez Cardenas was killed on the 15th of May by a lone gunman in Sinaloa state in the middle of the day. He is the seventh journalist to die this year imparting messages about guns and corruption that most people don’t want to hear.
His newspaper has been covering cartel activities. Opposed by government, threatened by drug lords, the publication has been called the only source of honest reporting on the drug war in Sinaloa.
Last March, Valdez said, “Let them kill us all, if that is the penalty for reporting this hell.”
Someone once said that the most important days in a person’s life are two. The first is the day he is born. The second: the day he finds out why. Death is a universal certainty, and as such, means nothing at all if we first and foremost do not define ourselves, distinguish what makes us unique and then and only then can we live intensely, and choose what it is we will die for.
Living for love, I call humane, provided it extends beyond our families and into the universe. Living for truth, I call honorable, provided we keep our integrity in all matters. Living to impart messages that shed light on evil, I call courageous, provided we take intellectual action to make a stand. Valdez’s brother often asked him if he was afraid. He answered in the affirmative. So why do it?
Purpose directs our goals. Our energy is converted into work. It gives us a target. We can either choose to be co-creators (with God) and follow this path, our life path or we can choose the mundane, which makes our existence shallow. Many are happy on this road and some are not.
To live for something beyond oneself, is a life worth living.
Valdez is gone, the cartels are not. Drug trafficking is rampant and most journalist killings go unpunished in Mexico. But Valdez is the reason narco-journalism exists and so many victims’ stories have been told.
The point is not that he died; the point is that he lived.