Prologue
Any good journey starts with a long pull of a worthy ale.
That time a bottle of Sierra Nevada’s Torpedo Extra IPA did just fine. It’s a calibration of sorts – a bitter
benchmark that mingles with the sweat from my brow to infuse the
jerky and soda bread with a familiar tang. My lips
caressed the smooth mouth of the bottle with a seductive familiarity. I reminisced about past intimacies for a
moment but checked the sentiment. Such
revelry at the start of a journey can only spell trouble. I reminded myself that those delicacies had
been left behind as I savored the dregs, released an acidic
belch, and shouldered my pack.
I’d
resupplied, posted some correspondence to ensure the few friends and family
who’d be wondering about my whereabouts in lieu of real-time tracking, and sniffed enough of the
national idiocy to reaffirm my decision to distance myself from the offal and
seek fresher breezes in the wilderness.
Admittedly, this was partially a journey of escape as well as a quest. On the one hand, I sought to
escape the absurdities of 21st century America. On the other, I sought a state of mind that
would permit me to rise above the petty and ephemeral day-to-day concerns of
the world and find that rare and refined summit where one has not a care in the
world. I call that state “bliss,” that
other-worldly realm where everything is right in one’s world, where one’s
footfalls are a dance not a march, where everything is peaceful and
serene. It’s more than contentment and
more than satisfaction. Awe and ecstasy
do it justice but perhaps they overstate the simple essence of being
happy. Surely we needn’t all reach
nirvana to find happiness. No, I wasn’t
in search of that rarified state of enlightenment. I simply sought that unnamed haven of mindful peace where I might someday doff my boots for good.
Why should
you care about this journey dear reader?
You should not. You should get
back to your own life and your personal amalgam of departures and arrivals,
running away, running toward, or running in place. Better yet, focus on your fun and games,
dancing, dreams, and discoveries rather than concern yourself with my solo trek in search of something that sages would tell me I could only find within. Perhaps though, you’ve settled in for the
night and are in need of a tale to help you nod off. Maybe you’re in a sick bed with nothing but
this sorry story that you stumbled upon.
Maybe you too have wondered if you would be happier if you’d never known
happiness? Regardless of your motivation
to journey with me, I promise to do my best to give you something to think
about.
A journal entry
from that evening reads, “Perhaps one day I’ll find the realms of joy, elation, ecstasy, awe and bliss but
such thoughts are a distracting fantasy now.
Hard work, lonely days, and many obstacles lie ahead.”
Chapter 1 – The Mudflats of Misery
I passed
along mega-mansions standing shoulder to shoulder along some of the most
beautiful coast in the world and wondered if all the residents were happy
living in such splendor. No doubt they
feel joy in varying degrees at the accomplishment, luck, or other circumstances
that landed them in such beautiful homes.
But happiness is only skin deep.
As with all mortals, each one will be susceptible to individual trials
and tribulations that produce their own personal forms of unhappiness. Happiness is the collection of experiences
that have meaning for us. It's not a singular item that we can possess.
It’s a collective and cumulative outcome that is constantly recalculated
and reassessed. There are variables in the equation that have different weights and there are constants. The joys of one’s life remain fixed and will
ever after weight the outcome positively.
At the same time, the sorrows and losses one has suffered will similarly
weight the outcome negatively. How one
balances the equation actively (some would say the pursuit of one's destiny) versus how it is influenced by random fate may speak
to one’s desire to seek happiness or conversely to succumb to the
Mudflats of Misery.
Mired in
the Mudflats of Misery. What a dismal
state to be found. I feel fortunate to
have had few encounters with the stinking clinging muck that one must
occasionally slog through. It weighs
down each step as the sucking sound of each footstep ushers a waft of disgust, remorse,
and regret. Many find themselves trapped
in those odious regions; out beyond the Rivers of Resignation and the Sands of Sadness.
What is one
to do when life’s choices and uncontrollable circumstances land one in such a
state?
One
approach is to not fight it. Eventually
the muck will dry up or wash away. If we
can wait it out patiently we will conserve energy and not make matters
worse. We will also afford ourselves the
time to focus on inner pursuits. One
might meditate, fast, pray, or simply observe the physical world from that
vantage point. A review of the
circumstances that led one to be entrapped in that muck may be instructive as a
means to avoid recurrence.
The drying
process will take time and one will be exposed to extreme conditions which may
also be uncomfortable or painful.
Fortification is needed to reduce the desiccation, solidification, and ossification
of the entrapping conditions. It will
require the endurance of the mountain that waits patiently as change swirls
around. Perhaps help is needed to
endure? Seek nourishment from those who
care and can provide love and support.
Conversely,
the process of washing the muck away may happen dramatically and severely. Will it be a hurricane or a flood? Both will batter the body and threaten to
wash you away with the muck you wish to escape. What will anchor you as the reminders of your
misery are washed away? Friends? Family?
Social structures like church or work?
These and other external aspects of normality can serve as anchors while
you endure the turbulent cleansing of a storm.
Without anchors of some sort you may get swept up in the flood of
painful memories that have trapped you as the maelstrom uproots and brings them
to the surface or the sun bakes them out only to have them blown in your face.
Perhaps this
life’s journey requires such lessons.
Or, for those who resist the notions of fate and predestination, perhaps
you will resist and fight. That’s
certainly another tactic. How will you
conduct that exercise? Will it be
planned or reactionary? Have you
training in such enterprises or is it your first such challenge? Having the desire to fight suggests a will to
change and defy the circumstances. One
has assessed the situation and made the conscious choice that – “to hell with
this place, I’m out of here!” How one
goes about actively ridding oneself of the offending muck will be influenced by
one’s life experiences, knowledge, ingenuity, endurance, resources, and time
(for starters).
Recognizing
the situation and assessing the options is a necessary 1st step. When we’re embedded in the muck, we often
don’t realize it. It may have gradually
spread and surrounded us like morning fog.
One’s behavior may have slowly changed in response to the situation
without obvious effect – at least from the inside. Here again, counsel from valued parties can
help us recognize the situations we’re in and help us see the need to break
free. Through friends, photographs,
writings, and other recollections, one gains perspective and is reminded that
it is possible to live in a more pleasant state of mind. Those memories can serve as navigation
beacons away from the Mudflats of Misery.
If it’s a
battle that must be waged we must be clear on what we’re fighting and what
weapons are appropriate. More than a
physical adversary, we’re more likely to be fighting a battle for
survival. It may be more of a rescue
mission than a fight. Is there a
grappling line that can be tossed to firm ground, a solid stone, or a nearby
tree? Better yet, perhaps another soul
is within earshot and can be hailed.
When tired of the situation and in need of help, reach out and seek the
aid of whoever happens to be nearby.
Chances are that aid will be provided rather than aggression,
indifference, or mockery but if the latter has been one’s past experience, it’s
unlikely one would wish to risk repeating the situation.
No one
nearby? No grappling hook? How stuck are you really? Perhaps you’ve exaggerated your
predicament. It’s an honest
mistake. People have drowned in a foot
of water out of ignorance or inopportune orientation. So assess your options fully and
honestly. This may take some time and
perspective. Observe how things are
changing. Do creatures come and go? Does debris get washed by? Is there anything of value within reach? Are you truly stuck or can you wiggle a bit? Can you dislodge a foot and make gradual
progress towards a change in orientation?
Perhaps there’s something just behind you that’s been overlooked? Perhaps there’s something buried in the muck
that could be of use. Reach around, dig,
explore, work.
Struggling
is hard work. When we struggle it needs
to be for a well-defined purpose otherwise we’re wasting energy and hoping for
dumb luck. Some random struggling is
inevitable – especially when we’re angry and have the energy. Some flailing about may have unexpected
positive outcomes, but we can also injure ourselves. At a certain point it may become a fight
against fate and success by happenstance may be the only hope so give it a
shot, what’s there to lose?
Active
effort directed at extraction from the Muds of Misery can help balance the
equation. One is invigorated by action
and action leads to hope. If there were
no hope, one would give up (which is different from waiting).
Hope and
desire to leave the Mudflats are essential to enduring. We gain that hope through the recollection
that it’s not always been this way, through the observation that others are not
universally stuck in the same situations, and through the encouragement of
others – either those coincident in time/place or those who have played a
significant and positive role in our lives – either personally or indirectly
(as I hope this may be).
Extraction
can be a long process and entrapment may occur repeatedly but hopefully with practice, each extraction will get easier or we'll avoid the mudflats entirely.
