I thought I knew how to make my journey home. A long winter slowed my eager strides until it halted me, alone and anxious in the cold. I had tried to sate my craving for learning, only learning hollow truths—little voids that I threw down the gullet of my greatest want. My soul was starving.
Instinct propelled me to fling out far and wide my intention for contact, revelation. That’s when a star came near, beckoning me “home”. This apparition strengthened my limbs and pushed me onward. Before then, my search for truth had been an aimless slog. I hadn’t even realized that I was walking, until I glimpsed the truth: my path existed beneath my feet, hidden beneath layers of decaying, fallen leaves.
...along that long road I had some luck once when a dear friend who trekked briefly with me asked, “What do you want in life?” I couldn’t respond. She handed me a book. “This will help you know,” he said.
The book taught me many things. After reading, I darted around, looking for my helpful friend. I wanted to thank her for her gift. The book said I’d find my friend at home. Only later did I understand: it was pointing me toward my home. A truer one, half-remembered, quietly calling all along. I only had foggy recollections of it, embedded in muted memory—glimpses of warmth, acceptance, love, and rest. Reaching outside of time, my mind clumsily held these images for but a moment.
The book contained a passage telling me what to look for and where to go, so when the road dwindled to a beaten, narrow path, I took my optimistic, final march. I didn’t know what awaited me here, but I trusted (as the book had persuaded me to) that patience and persistence would carry me home.
I saw an elder man walking more slowly than I up ahead. Approaching him courteously, I saw him lithely ambling along, casting his gaze about, scanning the forest on each side of the trail. As I overtook him, he turned to face me, his gaze piercing. He asked me with a knowing smile, “You’re heading home, aren’t you? You’ll need help up ahead.”
He pointed up the trail to an immense boulder at which the trail seemed to end abruptly. But the boulder was more than that, it was but the foot of a rocky mountain, its base seeming to extend endlessly to either side of the trail.
“The trail doesn’t end there, friend. You’ll need these,” he said, handing me climbing gear. I turned them over in my hands, perplexed. I had never rock-climbed before. “Don’t worry—instructions are in that book of yours” the man added, pointing to the book stuffed in my back pocket. “Study hard and get to work. I’ll be right behind you. Oh, and beef up those scrawny muscles before attempting the steepest parts. There’s an exercise regimen in your book for that, too….Oh, and one more thing: Look down! Relish every moment! Look up and around. Take it all in. Notice where you are and how far you’ve come.”
That climb was longer and more difficult that I could have ever imagined, but it was worth it.
At times during my climb, rain and slippery moss threatened to knock me to the bottom a bleeding heap. In those moments, I cried out for help. Sometimes, I'd feel hands on my back pushing me upward to drier rock.
I finally reached the top of the great mountain. I resolved to climb down its opposite face and continue my journey down below, but all I could see was a stratum of dark clouds a few meters below. I was higher than I’d thought! I had grown to love the climbing. The sweat, blood, scrapes, and burns had only strengthened my will to get to this point.
The clouds thinned all around the summit for the briefest moment, and I saw mysterious glimmers of light all around and below me, randomly materializing, coalescing, and dissipating. Then, the air became increasingly opaque as an icy cloud encircled me, making my bones weary, aching, and cold. My breath caught in the oxygen-deprived air. I was alone and afraid. There was no sign of that man—no sign of anyone. My body began to shiver, and numbness closed around me. The cloud forced my eyes closed, as sleep overwhelmed me...
The warmth of the sun, now unobstructed by clouds, awoke me. No longer was there cold hard rock beneath me, but a warm mountain grass tickling my hands as a brisk spring breeze nudged its blades. Fresh, rich air greeted my lungs. I stood up feeling new! Looking around, I noticed at the edge of a rocky crag something miraculous. It was narrow stairs leading upward into high cumulonimbus clouds. They beckoned me to climb those stairs!
My home was up there, I knew.
I pressed my toes cautiously on the first step and waited. It was as firm as a cement floor. I hopped on, and to my surprise, I lurched forward slightly as the stairs began to convey me upward, every new moment greater than the last. The cool, misty air eventually gave way to a clear, starry night. A bright, blue-white cluster of stars came into view. My home. Enraptured, I pondered its shape as I was carried upward. Was it a question mark? Perhaps I wasn’t done seeking, even now...
The stars grew brighter and larger until they filled my vision.
I smiled as I was embraced by light.
You have encoded a modern journey through the Duat in accessible and potent language. Well done.
Thank you! It was very personal, and rough, I think, appropriate for my first post in the substack.