Explosion

 

            The figure only grew smaller as she walked away and he could feel his soul shriveling with each step, wondering at her final destination and wondering as well if she knew it either. A million images passed through his mind but like looking into the fog, he had little clarity but great hope as well. Like someone pulling a pin on a hand grenade and forcing the now active object into their mouth on the false presumption that everything would turn out alright. Like someone throwing themself off a cliff and assuming they would walk away after impact. Like someone eating rat poison and hoping that extra doses of vitamin C would counter the effects.

              He called out many, many times but the figure only continued to grow smaller until eventually the tiny shape entirely disappeared from view. He waited for several minutes or possibly days, he wasn't sure until his legs grew tired, his mind grew bored, and the lack of stimulation drove him to act, taking the first opportunity to look a different direction and formulate a new plan. With his back now facing the direction he had formerly faced, the foggy surroundings slowly began to dissipate and revealed a flock of Canadian geese overhead, strangely flying in circles.

              The path before him actually splintered across several different directions placing him at a crossroads of sorts with a multitude of variables to entertain and weigh. The path to the immediate left was wide and smooth and seemed to curve back around behind him, offering a clear vision, an easy journey, and the simplest of opportunities. The path in the direct center was a bit narrower but seemed to wobble as it faded into the distance as a slight angle but not as smooth. The path to the right was narrow, laden with jagged stones and lined with thorns, weeds, and treacherous angles toward ditches on each side.

              He spent the next several moments pacing from the beginning of one path to the next to the next and back to the first, being thorough and thoughtful about each one, a struggle he never imagined would be taking place in his mind. He stood at the start of the path to the left, carefully studying the surface, the surroundings, and the direction, particularly grieved by the direction it was taking, reversing back on itself. The stepped to the center path to perform the same mental gymnastics, again troubled by its wobble, as if it didn't know which way to go, a circuitous route that gave him a feeling akin to heartburn. And finally, he stepped to the third path, to the far right and though it was a difficult road to walk, it presented struggle rather than comfort and ease. He loved the direct and unflinching commitment to a single direction, and he understood that the travel would be a struggle, but hard work always pays off, he thought.

              He stepped away from all three, sat on the ground and continued to wrestle with the decision before him, wondering if that much struggle and angst was worth it. It was a balance of loss, of separation, and of change, all three with their positives and negatives. He stood up again and looked into the distance behind him but continued to see nothing, no one, just emptiness, he stood in solitude and finally came to understand that reverting back to that path would lead to nothing good.

              His heart brought him to a place where he ultimately rejected the far-left path with its reversion into the backward distance. He stood at a midway point between center and far right not knowing the correct answer until he made the decision to move forward. To the right he went, moving very slowly to avoid a decline into either ditch, the narrowness and the sharp angles made his motion difficult, requiring slow, methodical progress, paying attention to every detail and every inch of the path.

              "Hindsight is twenty-twenty, they say," he thought to himself, feeling his thoughts vacillate between the ease and comfort of his former path and the struggle and growth of the new. He created a new rhythm to his life as he grew to recognize the value of such struggle seeing his strength and balance increase on a daily basis. Feeling like a video game character, he leveled up as he met a small group of people also struggling on the path, they encouraging him and he they, doing his best to encourage them, the interaction resembling a finely choreographed dance sequence.

              The group interaction made traversing the path slightly easier and definitely more encouraging and he felt as if he could see the bigger picture, a longer history, and the totality of the path as if from a thousand-foot view. Learning and teaching, guiding and being guided, speaking and listening, this beautiful sequence of interaction created an entire new reality that even a year prior he could not have imagined. Stories were shared, history was explained, and tips for response and reaction were freely given, removing the terrible weight of his previous individualism from his shoulders.

              The temptation to look back to the way from which he had come sometimes became overwhelming but those in his company urged him to continue forward, to be faithful to the path before him, and to practice that which would lead to greater success and further growth. He noticed that the longer he walked and the more carefully he followed their instruction, his efforts at traversing the still difficult path became more successful. "It isn't as if the path has gotten easier," he thought, "it is simply a matter of using the tools and techniques my friends have provided."

              His heart still burned within him as he thought back to what he had lost, to what he had walked away from him, and he could do nothing else but grieve these things. As the group progressed as a unified whole, a definite change came over them with excitement about a large group of newcomers who had joined them. He slowed his pace and allowed these newcomers to catch up to him, thrilled at seeing many of them he had known from his previous life. Nearly bursting with joy at this glorious change of events, he worked hard to balance moderation with teaching and help just as he had been helped.

              While it was twelve that joined, the one that he had the greatest hope of joining failed to do so, which grieved him deeply, bringing confusion and unhappiness into his soul, but he knew there was nothing that could be done about it, as each person has the freedom to think, speak, and act as they wish, with no amount of dialog or offers of help making a difference. Like someone in a barrel rolling downhill, there was no stopping some people, and he understood this, which brought him only more sadness.

              Focusing his attention on the ever-growing group, he could feel a lightness, a joy, and a bliss coming upon them all, bringing an increasing sense of success, beauty, and recognition of progress. Soon the path opened into a massive, glorious, lush green field that presented a future of endless reward and joy for the hard work of taking the narrow path, the difficult path, the path of restoration and growth.

              As the last of his group entered the seemingly endless field, he realized that the group was no longer the small number with whom he had traveled but instead become a small portion of millions or more of others who also had traveled this same path. The temperature was perfect, everything was beautiful, whole, complete, and fulfilling, making the difficult path that much more understandable. With so many people within immediate reach, he had never experienced such joy in social interaction and friendly banter, a context in which he never could have imagined himself navigating so easily.

              Boredom was a word that had no place for all those here, he connected, interacted, and loved everyone he approached or who approached him, like an unlimited family at a never-ending Thanksgiving celebration.