The Path

I stand gazing down a dusty path that seemed to stretch on without end. The path stretched into the horizon through rugged land filled with jagged cliffs, dense jungle, swamps that swallow men without a trace and perhaps even more. Overhead, clouds gathered lowly as my head had hung on my approach like a low ceiling. Turning my gaze to the path that I had already traveled so far, it seemed so long. Long and shrouded with a dusty mist in the far distance, the path seemed so long. Trials that I had faced only a haze now in my memory almost, mountains that I had climbed had turned to dust that swept through my mind in a sweeping storm. The pains I went through nearly absent. All that is left are the scars that only my eyes can see; what I did to myself. Those cordial scars that still tingled with a soft sting only a fraction of the aching deep within each fiber of my very being; that dreadful weariness. I had come to a halt in my travels having gone so long without rest...without pause. Up ahead things only appeared to worsen, the terrain roughened drastically like a grinding stone that refuses to cease corrading the very same brittle blade. Grinding away its edge and its usefulness, just like this curséd path wears away something more important than my body and mind. My very essence.

Through all my travels however, I have realized that all of my misfortune is not borne on the shoulder's of the Fates and Nature alone but instead forged by my very own hands. Every slip, fall, cut, scrape, bump and bruise were a product of my own self. I finally understand what that part of me said on that day when I was dazed with exhaustion. It said, "Responsibility always lies in the self and never can be attributed to the outside world. The self is the outside world. There is nothing but the self and the other." I can finally understand those fleeting words that snaked their way into my thoughts and all of the other words spoken by that peculiar yet vaguely familiar voice. Everything is my responsibility and therefore everything is my own fault in some way or another. Each breath that I take makes some impact somewhere. All of me is responsible. There was always another path, a better path but I did not always perceive it. I did not always see it. There is nothing but my own essence and that of others. All life is precious. Everything has its worth in the world. My hands reek of a powerful earthen odor and to walk the path of freedom is the only soap that I can use to rid myself of it. Freedom is within as everything is. Locked up inside a mushy box.

Ahead of me was this tangled thicket of brambles and all sorts of other rough and troublesome greenery. I had no doubt that this thicket went on and on for quite some time. Everything on this path did. This old dusty path that could barely be called a path which rested beneath my bare feet. I looked down at them. My pale feet covered in a thin layer of grime that added dull shades of colors. Feet so white that they could glow in the dark, or so my brother said. I am sure he was just poking fun. Everyone seems to like to jab and laugh in some way or another.  "Just messing with ya" they manage to speak faintly while containing laughter. Maybe I should say that on the day that I break along with their jaw bones and arteries.

I turned away from the dense thicket back to the length of pathway that I had already traveled. There the road looked so much easier. Easier to just turn and walk away before subjecting myself to more of this ceaseless torture on a path to nowhere. Why did I take this old beaten path? What lead me here to this...? Ah, right. Myself. Step by step, I began to retrace my steps with my head drooped as if there was a rope tight around my neck and no ground beneath my feet that was attempting to step through air. As I walked between two trees on the path through the small space between the branches of the great pines there was a tickling sensation on my face. I rubbed my face with my sleeve naturally. Spiderwebs, how irritating. When I removed my arm from my face, I blinked several times in disbelief at what I saw. There was a spider seated on my nose with all eight eyes staring back at me! Its tiny voice reached my ears, "Why are you turning back? Move forward. Even if you do not reach the end, it is better to die striving for something better than to just quit. Trust me, the prize is worth it." In the eyes of the spider, there was a twinkle ever so faint. A glimpse of what was to come. A window of hope and a door flooded with love. Love....

I kept walking backwards, despite the spider's words. Taking steps backwards after moving forward. So is the way of this path that forever winds and twists with crevices and shadows. A path like moving on a treadmill. A path that beats without mercy, one that proves itself an impossible challenge. The path with a sparkle of light. Strangely, I find myself gaining ground. I find my head becoming higher and higher. Perhaps one day, I will make it into the clouds. Oh but I do not travel such a treacherous and unforgiving trial alone for that small spider nearly fills the large void in my heart. Sometimes it is large, sometimes it is miniscule but that spider is ever present. That little spider helping me onward along that winding Path of Life called Self-discovery, self-worth, whatever call it what you will but let it be known that few travel this path and even fewer find their own footsteps within it. I still have a long way to go, but one day...that spider will be walking by my side.

May you all find yourselves in life. Perhaps one day you will all understand what is written here and how much this all means.

All life is precious, keep to the path and may you find your spiders. Follow your path wherever it may lead and through whatever it may lead. Sometimes you may find yourself lost or moving backwards but keep trying and you will find your own footsteps within.

Love life.

~Tyler