The road goes ever on and on - Life as a Quest

What a boring story would it be to tell

Of a life perfect, with no gaffes, with no mistakes, with no shame.

Life is a quest

With all its

Tribulations and trials

Mistakes and shame

Failings and misfortune

Have you heard of that phrase –

Life goes on

On this road many trials await us

Yet life goes on

It is a quest to be pursued

By ill-prepared, ill-equipped individuals;

Nonetheless; ‘tis a noble quest; an epic journey, a road to be travelled

Yes, there will be setbacks, yes, there will be pits of agony

The road to heaven is paved with thorns and crosses

Life goes on – and so does the quest

We may think “it is over”

Yet when we realise, we are still in possession of that quest

We know life goes on

Thus it is with eager hearts we resume our journey

Because we know

Our journey is too great to end here

The road goes ever on and on

Why should we give up? Why should we lie down, just because we have experienced a few setbacks? A few doses of misfortune?

I remind myself – ‘tis the narrative of life; ‘tis life’s story

And the quest leads us on

Through all that is thrown us; through all that we must endure; through all that we must bear; through all that we must summon courage to face

Through the darkest recesses, the loneliest of caverns, the coldest of winters; the pangs of pain

The journey continues; the quest of life reveals what’s in store for us

And we grow, grow, we grow – our mistakes, our most valuable mirrors; our failings, our most precious experience. As time passes, we grow wiser – from all those mistakes we have beared; from all the pain we have endured. And we continue to pursue that quest.

And so we write down our epic tale, of fortune and misfortune, of joy and sorrow, of laughter and tears, of warmth and cold. Our quest leads us on and on, and our tale grows and grows.

Life is a journey, a road to be travelled, a path to be trodden.

The quest continues to lead us on. It is because of that ever-present quest, that at any point in the journey I do not sit down and wallow in despair – because I know the quest goes on. No matter what happens, the quest goes on. And I am happy for it. Because I know it goes on. Because I know it is not the end of me. Because – because you know, you know – that there is more inside you – and the quest is a reassurance of that. That these were merely setbacks. The quest goes on. And so does myself.

With eager foot, I step on that road again. The road goes on and on, and so shall I.

The Ugly Duckling

There was nothing inherently wrong with the ugly duckling. But in a world that was so different to who he was, all he could do was question. Is there something wrong with me? What is wrong with me? Why are others treating me this way? Why am I so different to everyone else? Why can’t I be like everyone else?

The ugly duckling felt lonely. Alone. He just couldn’t understand the world around him. He saw no hope. He was all by himself. Everyone was so different. He could not understand anyone. No one could understand him. Nothing made sense. Why me, he thought. Why this cruel fate.

Others found the ugly duckling puzzling. They stayed away from him. He was too different. Too out-of-this-world. Too alien. They didn’t know what to do with him. They could not relate to him.

Through many lonely days and nights the ugly duckling lived. Always feeling out-of-place. Always feeling disconnected. Always feeling alone. He could not understand. He longed to understand, but he could not. It just didn’t make sense. He tried to be like the others. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change who we was. He continued to be that ugly duckling. That mutant. That aberration. That mistake of nature. He felt alone.

Life became an act for the ugly duckling. He tried to quack like the other ducklings – but it never came out like he wanted it to. He tried to copy the others – yet often it just failed miserably. He cried. He didn’t know why life was like this. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He didn’t know why he couldn’t be like the others. He was trying, oh yes, he was trying. He was trying like never before. But nothing could change who he was. He cried, and cried.

As the duckling grew older he became good at mimicking the others. But he just knew that really, he was different. Too different from these others. So he felt alone, terribly alone. His glaringly different appearance earnt him many questioning, puzzled looks – from those that were nice; and many indignancies, jibes and mockeries from those that were not. The duckling just continued to cry. This wasn’t what he wanted from life. Yet what could he do? How could he change who we was?

No one saw the swan in the ugly duckling.

The ugly duckling withered away, never realising who we was, never realising all that he could have been.

***

Let us swap sides for now. If we were the other ducklings – and we find someone so “different”. It is easy to discriminate; it is easy to be miserable to that ugly duckling. You are “normal”; he is “abnormal”. You are “healthy”; he isn’t. You “belong”; he doesn’t. It is easy to just let him cry to sleep by himself. It is easy to just let things be. It is easy to just say “oh well, he’s just a miserable mutant, why is it any of my business” and forget about it. It is easy.

So many people’s beautiful lives are quashed like this because they are “different” in some way. They are banished and forgotten. No one sees past the differences. No one sees hope. No one sees anything good coming out of those that are different to them. Difference = bad.

It is easy to label the ugly duckling as ugly and call it a day. No one sees past the ‘ugliness’ of the ugly duckling. No one sees all that he could be and can be. No one sees the unique ways in which that ugly duckling can contribute to their society. No one sees what unique perspectives the ugly duckling might be able to provide. No one sees what unique talents the ugly duckling might possess that may benefit them all. No one sees what wonders the ugly duckling might be able to show them.

Or worse – they might ‘see’ such things, but actively suppress them. Because they are scared and afraid. They want the status quo. This ugly duckling becoming a part of their lives is a frightening concept. They don’t want that to happen. So they banish the ugly duckling. They obliterate the ugly duckling from their minds.

It takes courage to nurture that ugly duckling. To see the ugly duckling as more than being just ‘ugly’. It takes courage, and strength, to see past difference. It takes courage to embrace him. It takes courage to see the good in him. It takes courage to ask the ugly duckling to be all that he can be. It takes courage for us to give the ugly duckling a chance. A chance at life.

And then – then – perhaps then –

Suddenly we realise him transforming to a swan right before our eyes

Not because anything inherent about him changed

But because the way we perceive him has changed

And we accept him, embrace him as a part of us –

A unique part of us.

Atop the cliff

Standing atop the cliff here I am. Looking out over the sea. I breathe in the ocean air. The wind flitters through my hair.

Here I am. 200 meters above the sea. Here I am. Betwixt turmoil and trouble, here I am. A lone statue gazing towards infinity. Atop the hill, here I am. The wind batters me. The salt sears my skin. Here I am. The whispering grass is my company, the roaring wind is my accomplice. Here I am, in betwixt a grey sky and a stretching horizon.

I feel the wind battering me. I feel it rush through every inch of my skin. The only sound to be heard is the whistling wind and the crashing waves. Not a soul in sight, not a life in sight. Here I am. Myself and nature. Here I am. How more fundamental can you get. Here I am, standing atop the cliff. Here I am, gazing out afar. Here I am.

Miseries forgotten, troubles left behind. Here I am, standing atop this cliff. The wind is my catharsis, the waves are the killers of my woe. This is where I stand, this is where I am. And it is in this desolace one revels. Here, thousands of miles away from the nearest soul, one finds what it means to be oneself. Here, facing nature alone, one finds the true nature of life. Here, here, here, atop the cliff. Inches away from the waters below, here one finds the meaning of life. Here, here. Not anywhere else – but here, amidst this wind, amidst these waves, amidst these rolling grass – here one finds company, here one finds what it means to be. I have not felt more alive before. As the wind batters me I feel the blood course through my veins.

Away, away, away from it all! Here! Yes, I am finally here! I am gazing out, towards the endless ocean, to all that lies ahead. Yes, here! Behind me, lies all that came before, the miseries and woes of civilization, of all that and more. But they lie all behind me; what is evident right now is the wind on my skin, and the crush of the waves. Here, I define life. Here, I define what it means to be. It is my decision. It is in my control. Here, as the wind soars through who I am, I feel more alive than ever. It is the ecstacy of being who you are, against nature and nature alone.

The wind is refreshing. The life is empowering. Here I find who I am. Here I realise who I am. This is life. So long as you have a beating heart – that is life. All else is excess – needless excess. I bathe in the gushing rain. My skin is cleansed by nature’s force. I relish it, I cherish it. This is real – THIS is real.

I open my eyes. The sun is rising over the horizon. I feel bliss like I have never felt before. I feel that in order to be – I just need a beating heart. That is all. All else is how we make of it. All else is excess.

Nature and me. Me and nature. Nothing else. I have never felt in my place so much before. I have never felt such belonging ever before. Suddenly, I can breathe with the land beneath my feet, the ocean that lie before me. Suddenly, they come alive, they are more real than anything I’ve seen before. This is real. This is real. And I feel free. Free. Alive.