“Now that your path
has led you here, what adventures await?” Time
asked. “Your
quest, it appears, is done.”
The Wanderer rose
from the comfort of the fireside and walked to the centre of the clearing. The
boy thought that perhaps she had not heard Time’s question and
almost repeated it, a little louder, for he too was anxious to know what she
would do next. She dropped her shoulders and raised her face, seemingly
oblivious to the cold. Snow gathered on her eyelashes and she stood very still.
Energy gathered and poised. She breathed in and she breathed out and she faced
the Tree.
“I
have learned so much, but I know so little,” she
began.
“I am neither a sage
nor a hermit, a priest nor a tree.
“I live amongst
people, not in a cave.
“The mountains are
my refuge, yet the road is my home.
“The world is seldom
beautiful, but its ugliness is also part of me.
“I cherish happiness,
but I battle anger.
“How can I live
well, being who I am?
“I am a Wanderer.”
“You are a Warrior,” the
Tree amended.
She acknowledged
the Tree’s
revision with a nod, and continued,
“I
do not wish to shut myself off from the world. It astonishes me every day with
its capacity for beauty. It also burdens me with its filth, stupidity,
thoughtlessness and greed. People trample on the weak, tumble into strangers’ arms,
trade in lies and inanities, trapped in minds that look no further than a
billboard to tell them what to think and what to dream. Words lose all meaning
as they are used as wallpaper to cover cracks in the silence. Thoughtless
words, rote conversations, empty lives that bore through life and bore to
death.
“If I am to embrace
the world, I must accept all of it with equanimity - the
ugliness as well as the beauty.
This,
Tree, is my quest, and I am in great need of your guidance.”
“Lord yes,” Time
chimed in. “Is
there anything duller than conversation?”
Conversation petered out as the Tree gathered its words
carefully.
“It is easy to be a
tree in the forest.
“Supplant it, and the sun may no longer dapple its leaves;
electricity wires may rustle through its eaves; its roots may crackle along
concrete paths; and noxious fumes may seep into its seams. Yet still it will
reach for water and light. Birds will continue to nest in its branches. It will
strive to grow and be what it is. Beyond the forest, it is still a tree.
“It is easy to be
happy in the mountains.
“Live in the world
of people and your spirit may encounter darkness; noise and confusion may
splinter your nerves; anger may seethe through your veins; and disappointments
may wrack your dreams. Yet your spirit will still struggle for light and love.
Others will continue to seek your protection and guidance. You will fight to
fill your skin and be who you are. Beyond the mountains, you are still a
Warrior.”
The Wanderer
carefully considered the Tree’s words.
“I am beauty and I
am pain. I am the celebration and I am the stale room the morning after the
party. Knowing who I am, how can I be a Warrior?” she
pressed.
“The Warrior must
embrace their capacity for love and command their propensity for anger. Love is
the Warrior’s
greatest strength; anger is the sword they wield. This weapon should be
controlled by the mind and only unleashed by the heart.
“The Warrior must
slash a path through the fears and the failings of the spirit that whisper of
disillusionment and disappointment. They must fight to control their response
to the world, so that the darkness is met with their light.
“They must stand
strong in the face of those who nettle their will and speak with fools’ tongues.
They must seek to understand before they stand on judgment. They must protect
those who are weak, and offer guidance to the lost.
“Life is a war. In
battle the old ways are destroyed, and a space is cleared for the new.
Destruction is the fertile soil of growth. The Warrior has the potential to be
an instrument of great change on the battlefield of the spirit.”
“Sounds dangerous to
me,” Time
commented. “You’d
be much better staying at home and minding your own business.”
“Life
is a dangerous business, if left unchecked,” the
Tree responded. “To
live well and fully requires work and commitment.
“Interaction with
the world often leads down alleyways of discontent, as we test ourselves and
find ourselves wanting, and trust others who let us down.”
Time looked
pointedly at the prone Shadow, “I hear you, Tree. But sing it louder.”
“You cannot control
how the world will treat you,” the Tree continued,
“but
you can control your response to those with whom you engage, and circumstances
in which you become involved.
“For example,
wealth, prestige and power need not be negative trappings, once they’re
treated as tools to sow goodness and grow wisdom. If they become a substitute
for joy, then lives of great misery follow.
“Neither can
poverty, loss or disappointment be excuses for living meanly.
“Nothing is gained
by blaming the world for the absence of happiness. The light is always within,
waiting for the Warrior to rise up and release it.
“No matter the hole
in which you fall, get up. Fail again. Strive harder. Do better.
“Mistakes may occur.
Temptations indulged. Anger unleashed, directed unchecked. Light may be doused;
a rug over a flame. Darkness embraced, head lowered in shame. But do not give
up; the war’s
not won. Forgive yourself. Start again.
“And afford the same
kindness to others.” The
Wanderer nodded her head slowly, thinking on the words.
“It is easy to be
happy in the mountains,” the Tree said
again. “But
happiness does not reside there. It can be found on the battlefield of the
spirit. The Warrior’s
task is to fight in the muck as well as in the clouds, against the darkness and
against the odds, with the certainty that happiness is worth fighting for.”
The Twist and Shout Murder: A Swinging Sixties Mystery
by Teresa Trent
