The Four Worlds of Trying to Know
One. In this world, we are lost in a dark, dark wood. We stumble into one another and into trees and brush, with our hands out, groping a hidden path in the darkness. We cannot see. We do not know the way. We walk in circles of error, grasping at prickly vines, brushing against papery bark, wailing that we cannot get it right, are not good enough to get through. We fall and sob in a pile of dry leaves, certain that we will never find our way. That we are stuck without a path in this forest of mistakes. That life will never be what we want it to be.
Two. In this world, we are climbing a mountain. Fast paced, heavy haul, can’t get to the top fast enough. The pace is exhausting, the terrain relentless. It’s hot and rocky and dry and unrelentingly bright. Perpetually above tree line. Never any respite. We feel self-important when we pass other climbers. We judge ourselves by their pace, their exhaustion, relative to ours. If someone passes us, our backpack must be heavier, our boots not as secure, their trail an easier climb. Where is the top? When can we rest? How many more days left to climb before we get to the part where we don’t have to climb anymore? What happens when we stop?
Three. In this world, we are in a theater. Our fears play out before us on a dimly lit stage. Puppet-like actors with stitched-on faces recreate our deepest guilts, the things we loathe about ourselves, the things we would never want anyone else to know. We sit in red velvet chairs with hard backs that squeak when we shift uncomfortably. We force ourselves to watch, knuckles firmly clenched around the armrests. We believe that if we confront it all in this play of regret, if we sit unblinking, unflinching through each act of discomfort, that we will learn something at the end. The play will resolve, the curtains will close, and we will see what we need to do. We will see the clear way out of the forest, the effortless way to the summit, the life lived without regret. The play ends, the curtains close, the lights go out, and we know nothing more. We check to see when the next showing will be.
Four. In this world, we are in the ocean. It stretches cleanly without end on every side of us, no waves, no crests. We float, in peace. We float in the deepest knowledge that we do not have to stay in the forest with our errors. Do not have to climb the mountain to achieve success. Do not have to stage every regret. We float knowing that life was made for the living of it. We float in our ocean knowing that we are the ocean. We are expansive and clear and alive.
