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The Wayfarer's Journey to Happiness: The Journey Continues
Through the
darkened, cool cave I could hear birds begin to chirp, breaking into
my dreams. I had a restless night’s sleep which mixed memories of
what has already been experienced with expanded thoughts and
imaginings. I couldn’t keep anything straight in my head. The one
constant was the old man on the side of the road. He invaded my every thought and image. He would show up in a sequence and give me advice or steer me
in a different direction. I could not escape him.
When I opened my
eyes I felt the familiar ache of my body from the exertion of my trek leading to the now familiar slowness of fatigue. All I really wanted
was to be under freshly washed sheets on a cushioned mattress,
snuggled under the covers with my head on a soft pillow where I could
sleep for days. The birds outside were like an alarm ringing in my
head and I just wanted to scream, “Be quiet!”
Instead, I
gathered up my belongings, the few I still had. Shook my head clear
of the cobwebs of sleep and, squinting at the brightness of the
morning sun as I left the darkened cave, I stepped outside. The
ground was still muddy and wet from the hard rain the previous night.
I could feel it squish under my boots. The air was already humid
and I knew it would only get worse. The birds continued their
morning serenade. I was not an appreciative audience, however, as I
was still trying to shake the fatigue that was now feeling like a
permanent condition.
I could feel my exhaustion give way to sadness and questions. I felt defeated. I
wondered why I was on this journey and why it was so difficult. I
looked into the sky hoping an answer would appear, but all I got was
the glare of the sun forcing me to look back down to the path I was
walking. I kept putting one foot in front of the other and my
thoughts and mood seemed to get darker with each step. The incline
from the large mountain was making my breathing labored and I began
to move slower and slower upwards. Yet, I was more focused on those
dark thoughts and was not paying attention to my footing until I
found myself tripping over a small tree root in the way, stubbing my
toe, and beginning to fall face first. I managed to not fall on my
face, but rather my knees, scraping them and yelling out, “Ouch!”
When I managed to
stand back up I took a cloth from my bag and wiped my bleeding,
scraped knees of the dirt and grime from the ground. I was no longer
depressed. I was angry. Looking up into the sky I yelled, “So
what?!? This was your answer.”
I heard a chuckle
come from the trees off to the side of the path and whipped around
towards the sound. I could not see anything at first, but I saw some
slight movement of the leaves and knew it was not my mind playing
tricks on me. There was a person in those bushes. “Come out of
there! I know you are in there. What are you doing? What do you
want?” I yelled out loud.
Slowly a figure
began to emerge and it made me gasp. Coming out of the bushes was a
young man. He was wearing next to nothing except a wrap around his
middle. His body was tanned and toned. His muscles seemed to flex
automatically on their own and each hard line and ripple was leaving
me mesmerized. His legs held their ground like tree trunks that had
been planted hundreds of years before. His arms so muscular they
looked to be as wide as my own legs. As he watched me look over his
body he gave another delighted laugh that seemed to tinkle along the
breeze like wind chimes sounding on a spring day. I looked up then
and saw his face. His chiseled features and large aquiline nose
seemed out of place in what felt like a primitive area. The
merriment in his eyes seemed almost childlike in their innocence.
He started to
speak to me and I shook my head. I responded back, “I don’t
understand anything your saying. I don’t know your language.”
We stared at each
other both shaking our heads and frowning in confusion. He finally
signaled me with his hand to follow him, like a universal symbol. I
followed after him in silence watching his every step. He moved
with such grace and ease that told me he knew this mountain and its
inclines. They were his home and his memory. He would stop
periodically as I tried to keep up but was having a difficult time.
Once he stopped and motioned with his hand flat down which I did not
understand until he began to sit under the shade of a tree to rest.
I quickly realized what he had meant and followed suit.
He took from a
bag tied to his hip a piece of bread and broke it in half handing me
one side. I had been so intently watching this stranger and trying
to keep pace that I did not notice how hungry I was or that it was
time for a midday meal. The sun was high over us in the sky but the
shade of the tree provided a slight breeze which helped me catch my
breath and dry the sweat that I was sure I was covered in, red-faced and grimy.
The man then dug into his bag again and unwrapped something tearing
it in half like before. He handed me a slab of cheese. I hesitantly
took it and nibbled a bite. It was a harsher flavor than I ever had
and I realized it was a goat’s milk cheese. With each bite of the
cheese I tried to take a nibble of bread as well to cover up the
strong taste. I knew the nourishment was necessary though so I ate
it ravenously. I dug into my own bag and took out my canteen of water and
gulped it down before handing it over to the man for him to try it.
He smiled though and took out his own animal skin casing filled with
liquid.
My stomach was filled and my thirst quenched and the slight breeze that
played through the trees was cooling me off quite
a bit from the long trek. I began to feel my tense muscles relax and my eyelids get a
bit heavy as I leaned back against the trunk of the tree to rest
before beginning the journey again. Before I realized it I was fast
asleep.
When I opened my
eyes I felt much more refreshed and a lot less fatigued but the first
thing I noticed was that the sun was now much lower in the sky. The
second thing I noticed was the man staring at me with a grin on his
face. He looked at me and said something in his language I did not
understand. When I frowned though he made the sound of snoring. My
face turned red instantly in realization of what he was saying. I
jumped to my feet and, instead of responding, gathered my stuff and
signaled for him to start walking. I could hear laughter behind me
and tried to hurry my steps up the ever increasing incline without
acknowledging my embarrassment.
I knew my nap had
taken precious time from reaching the top of this small mountain and
I was concerned about not reaching the top before dark. It was so
hard to even see the top now that the incline was getting so steep.
The man again seemed unconcerned about the time and still walked with
ease up the inclined land. I could not understand how this was so
easy for him and so difficult for myself. I started to complain to
myself as I compared the easy gait that the man was able to maintain
while I huffed and puffed and struggled along. He soon passed me and
had to stop periodically again to wait for me to catch up, which only
aggravated me more and more.
As the incline
increased we were having to grab onto items to pull ourselves up with
large boulders or low hanging tree limbs. I could feel each bead of
sweat as it rolled down my back. The breeze that gave a little
relief that morning had died down and the stillness of the air felt
thick and made it harder to breath.
So far I had
battled hunger, dehydration, being lost, being afraid, fighting a
battle, meeting a solider who showed me to safety but who I lost, and
now this attractive man. Yet, with all of that, it was the hike up
this mountain that made me feel was the hardest part of this journey
as of yet. I felt ready to give up. I wanted to go back to the flat
path where the strange, little man gave me the choice of direction
and instead go the other way. It had to be easier than the path I had
taken.
Just when I felt
that I couldn't go one step further and I was practically crawling up
the way on my hands and knees I put my hand up on the land to pull me
up and instead of the mountain continuing up I was pulling myself up
onto the top of the mountain. The man had let me reach the top first
and when I stepped foot onto the flat ridge I stood tall and then
fell to my knees in amazement and gave a wild laugh that probably
sounded a bit hysterical but was the ultimate laugh of relief.
I stood back up
then and looked out over the most amazing view I had ever seen. I
saw a lush green valley with a long river and full, beautiful trees
along its edge. It felt as if I were looking into a utopia-like
paradise. After my long journey so far it was hard to imagine
anything more beautiful.
The man walked
over and was standing beside me quietly for a minute. He then
suddenly dropped to his knees and raised his hands up toward the sky.
I was stunned into silence unable to do anything but stare. His
voice rang out loud as he continued to look up into the sky. It
sounded like a chant or a prayer. I realized I felt uncomfortable and
started to shuffle my feet. I had not felt the presence of faith in
my life as fervently as this man expressed his. I was a woman
with faith in so much but this overt display was unlike anything I
have ever experienced or felt. I started wondering about my own
expression of faith versus this man's.
As I looked out
over the beautiful valley I felt a level of calm suddenly come over
me and I realized that, though my faith my be different and not as
loud, I still had a faith I was proud of because it was my own. I
felt the beauty and richness of this time and when I stopped
comparing myself and my own spirituality to another's I felt that
same sense of calm wash over me. I moved off to the side giving
the man time alone with his prayers and sat down on the edge of the
mountain rim and just let this calmness stay with me for as long as I
could hold onto it.
At the edge of
the valley in the distance I could see that the sun was beginning its
slow move towards the land. I could see the change in color in the
sky as it was turning towards the colors of evenings. The blue was
starting to have edges of gold and then the gold had edges of rose
pink. As I watched the sun's descent I heard the quiet and realized
the man had finished his prayer. I looked over my shoulder to see
where he went. He was walking around hauling large branches that he
found on the ground and in no time at all created a small tepee-like
shelter for us to retire to for the night.
I was a bit
nervous realizing I would be in this small shelter alone with him but,
at the same time, I was too fatigued to fight. The man led me over to
the shelter and pushed on my shoulder until I sat down. He then
handed me a stick and when I looked at it confused and then up in his
face I realized he wanted me to make a fire. I was at a loss. I did
not do these things in my life. He gave a nod as he saw my
understanding and then marched off pulling a bow and arrow out from where it had hung all day at his back.
Okay, what do I
do? I tried to recall the lesson of fire skills I learned at camp. I found some tinder underneath a nearby tree which I thought
would make it easier to grab a flame and grow a fire. I saw a stick
that had broken off with a sharp point and I grabbed it in hand. I
split another stick slightly making sure not to split it too far. I
put the pointed end of one stick in between the cracks of another and
against a rock for support. I began moving the pointed stick hard
feeling each effort of exertion tire me out more and more. I moved
hard and fast though and prayed for the sight of smoke but nothing
came. Sweat was pouring down my face and I let it just fall as I
tried to keep up the fast pace of moving the stick to get enough
friction for smoke. I wanted to cry when nothing seemed to happen. I
was out of breath, exhausted, hungry, and now once again frustrated
and ready to just throw the stick and cry. I threw down the stick and
gave a cry out loud in frustration. Two days before that I picked up
a weapon after never having done so and was able to shoot.
Today this primitive form of fire was eluding me.
After my cry of
frustration I heard footsteps behind me and saw the man frowning as he
walked up to me. He leaned down on his knees and then gave a small
smile and dug through the bag on his side again and pulled out a
shiny lighter. I yelled in surprise and snatched it out of his hands
laughing in glee. I realized then he had been asking me to gather
firewood and not start a fire with a stick. I got up to do just that
and marveled again at our miscommunication and eventual understanding
of each other. I also wondered again at how my misconceptions of this
strange man were wrong. He was not as simple as I thought, nor as
primitive. He was more in tune with the land and nature but that did
not make him simple. It made him a survivalist. Just because we
spoke different languages and looked differently it did not mean that
I was more or less important and knowledgeable than him. He may live
in a tribe or a village but that does not make him less capable in
this world of surviving than myself. It makes our ways different. At
the end of it all we both are working at surviving our own worlds.
We are both on a journey, a different journey, but a journey of life.
We had a fire
going before long and the small rabbit the man had killed was cooking
on the fire. The smell of the meat cooking was making my stomach
pang in hunger. I knew from the smell I was going to enjoy this
meal. The sun had finished its descent and now the gold and rose sky
was just dark. On top of the mountain I watched the stars
shine in the sky so clear and the moon seem so big. It was as if we were so close to it all that I could just reach up my hand and
pull down one of those stars. Sights like both the solider and the
man sitting across the fire from me, the memory of the lush green
valley below, the way the water moved down my throat and tasted so
cool and good, the feeling of hunger being abated with a simple
sandwich of cheese and bread, and even the wild storm from the night
before made me revel at all that had happened on this adventure and
made the hard times pale in comparison to the beauty and strength and
wondrous moments I have also experienced.
I knew this
feeling was euphoric and I wanted to hold onto it. I also knew I may
not be able to because I still needed to cross the valley and I
didn't know what was on the other side that was going to stand in my
path. I watched the flames of the fire and thought maybe this was the
end of my journey. Maybe this man and this place were all signs this
is where I should be. I looked up into the sky hoping for a voice to
whisper, “Yes, this is where you will find yourself today, tomorrow
and tomorrows to come.”
As I stood
staring intently there was no voice and the feeling of home quickly
disappeared and I knew that this life quest I was on had not yet
ended. I still had much to see and much to learn and many more people
to meet.
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