The Story of The Traveler's Hope

I'd like to tell you a story.

I hope you'd like to have me do that, for you.

If not, my apologies, but I'm going to tell you, anyway.

        There once was a traveler, and he had been traveling many days along the path of his journey.  In fact, he had been traveling so long, he had lost count of how many days it had been since he had set out with grand dreams and fantastic goals of destination.  There had been hot, dry, sunny days, and cold, dark, silent nights; he'd seen thunderstorms crackle across the sky, and bitter blizzards which numbed his fingers and toes.  He had seen streams, rivers, lakes and oceans; mountains, deserts, jungles and prairies.  He had witnessed shooting stars, brilliant moons, and the surreal magic of eclipses along the way.  Yes, it had been a long journey, indeed.

He had no idea how much time had passed;

it felt like days, and it felt like years.

        As he made his way along his path, he came across fellow travelers. Some were pleasant, and restorative, and with them time flew by with smiles and laughter, as quick as a dream, and just as bright and happy as a dream could be!  

        Others, however, were not so pleasant.  There were some who dragged him down, and slowed him up; sometimes stole from him some of his most prized possessions, and he turned to fight them.  And some carried wounds, and they tagged along with him as he journeyed, asking him for help and needing a great deal of time and energy from him.

        Those who opposed the traveler often caused him much pain and sorrow.  He grieved what they had taken from him, and sometimes would get angry and want to rage against them.  At other times, he felt afraid of who and what would be coming, next, and as he grew weary, frustrated and disheartened, those whom he carried with him felt like lead weights, and he began to feel so tired he considered giving up his journey, altogether.

"What am I to do?" the traveler asked, one day,

as he sat down upon a rock to rest.

"What difference does it make,

if I am going to have to fight my way through,

with all these weights dragging me down?

Is this really worth it?"

         As he contemplated his journey, the traveler remembered what it was like when he set out in the beginning.  He had felt so strong, and with so much promise!  He had planned out his path along the way, and how to get to the places he wanted to go, and was confident he'd be able to do whatever it took to reach them.  He had brought with him many gifts and tools which would aid him on his journey and make it much more pleasant.

        But he hadn't been able to plan for everything, and there were things he couldn't have predicted, such as these other travelers he had met along the way, and the complications his experiences with them would create to slow him down and make the journey so difficult!  He began to resent them, especially the ones who stole his gifts and those who refused to leave him, and whose wounds weighed him down!  

        The traveler's resentment grew to burn within him, and his bitterness added to the burden he carried, worn like a heavy cloak he used to keep the unpleasant experiences at bay.  Those who had been so cheerful and pleasant tried to comfort him, but their attempts to lift and restore him were met with his silent indignation, until he could no longer even feel their presence in his life, any longer, under his thick, dark shell.

In his fury, he waged great battles against those who crossed his path,

and grew increasingly exhausted and dismayed as time went on.

        In time, the searing rage cooled, and the heavy cloak became a burden of its own; its gravity could not warm him, and the darkness became a cold ache within him.  His only companions were those who needed his life force to continue, and refused to leave him be.  A depth of depression overtook him, as he collapsed on the ground and didn't even care to continue.  The only thoughts and feelings he had left were half-hearted hatred and resentment at the things which had been stolen from him, as well as his unwelcome companions.

        It was in this dimness of despair that one day he was met by some unusual, fellow travelers.  These helped him dress his wounds, offered help, and to teach him things which would help strengthen and sustain him in the things he faced on the path of his journey.  

In his humbled state the traveler knew

he could no longer manage his way alone,

and accepted his fellows' help,

doing his best to practice

the tools and skills he was learning.

        For the first time in a long time, the traveler could feel a spark of hope, again.  He learned he was going to need the help and support of others, and to let go of what unnecessary weight he could, including the dark cloak of bitterness and resentment he carried, if he was ever going to be able to accomplish any goals toward what destinations he had the capacity to reach.  He had to learn new ways of seeing things, and adjusting his dreams to his new set of abilities.  He realized his original goals were not going to be possible, but there were still wonderful things he could accomplish.

And maybe, just maybe, that could be enough.

Yes; it could be more than enough.

It could even be wonderful.

◊○◊○◊

        

        Throughout my life, I've known a lot of sick, injured or otherwise afflicted people, in a variety of contexts.  I've known many with life-altering circumstances which have forced them to live lives modified to their own, unique abilities and disabilities.  The human body has an unbelievable amount of ways to go "wrong", so to speak, whether it happens genetically or congenitally seen at birth, at some point along the way, or through unfortunate circumstances or accidents.  They can affect everything from the way a person moves; to their ability to learn; to their thinking processes and patterns; and to any number of other aspects of living.  

        And really, we all have our own, unique mix of challenges that may or may not fall under a medically-oriented category or label.  Just being something others deem "inappropriate" or "wrong" can confine us to various modes of  "disability", simply because we are not allowed to be who and/or what we are.  Humans, too, have an astounding amount of ways to be judgmental and cruel to one another, and to ourselves.  

        And what does this have to do with the story?  Good question!

        The other day I shared a post to the PB Community Facebook Page, which contained the following quote:

Nobody will protect you from your suffering.

You can't cry it away or eat it away or starve it away

or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away.

It's just there, and you have to survive it.

You have to endure it.

You have to live through it and love it

and move on and be better for it

and run as far as you can in the direction

of your best and happiest dreams

 across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.

~ Cheryl Strayed

        This received a number of responses, including one which mentioned being unable to do that, but being willing to survive, endure, and hope to reach whatever happiness which could be found.  This inspired me to think further on this, which was the spark to ignite the idea of this story.  (See?  There was a connection!)  This was part of my response:

        "I think the idea is that in healing, we see the challenges not as opponents to fight, but... as wounded, fellow travelers, perhaps?  Traveling with us, needing us to carry them a while, while we strive to make it to happier times?  They aren't out to get us; they just exist, as do we; and until they can be healed, we need to treat them with love and care, nurturing them as we would anyone on a journey with us.  When we can love them, we heal them.  I would like to be healed this way; wouldn't you?"

         Accidents, illnesses, griefs of losses of various forms, and whatever else life throws at us, can feel like attackers or leeches on our energy, time and ability to cope.  Sometimes, like in the story, we get so overwhelmed with everything, and perhaps thanks to chemical or other issues along the way, we become drained, worn out, and perhaps begin to feel hopeless, and despairing. There are times we need help to get out of those places, and there is no shame in that.  Learning skills to help us live happier, more satisfying lives is a gift we can give to ourselves, and very much worth the effort involved.

        Perhaps that gift comes through others who happen to cross our paths at the right timing, but often, we need to seek out that help, ourselves.  We need to be our own, best advocates, but we also need to accept the help we are offered, if it is healthy and leads us to better things.  That can be incredibly and intensely difficult if we are trying to learn things which create emotional or mental challenges, because those kinds of things can often be more formidable than can physical ones!  But we have to vent the wounds if we are to heal, and we have to work the "muscles" if we are to become strong enough to carry ourselves through.

Developing more personal powerful and healthy habits takes time,

but it is worth it if it helps us reach greater

and more wonderful destinations than we could ever have imagined, yes?

          If we can let go of the past and what we've lost, instead of fighting those things we feel are robbing us of so much, we can allow those grieving parts of us to heal, in time.  We can nurture those elements of us which are hurting and afraid, and eventually walk alongside those tired, aching, wounded pieces of our lives and find healthy ways to make use of what we can, along the way toward our future.

        There you go.  Perhaps I'll not add the, "And they lived happily ever after."  After all, that's up to each of us, and the story hasn't been finished, yet!

        Better days ahead, my friends!