Resignation, redirection, resurrection

I stand staring at the stone wall in front of me. Deep in the depths, and I have come to a dead end. This can’t be. Solid rock. No doors, no tunnels. I reach out and touch the wall. Cold, hard, immovable. The flickering light of a torch reveals only rock on every side except for the way I came.

How long ago was it that I entered the cave? I can’t remember now. This cave was supposed to be my deliverance. I was told that within this place, this labyrinth, I would find what I was looking for. Success, happiness, fulfillment.

“Go into the cave like all those before you who sought greatness,” I had been told. “Do not return until you have passed the trials.”

I had finished my studies, bid my family farewell, and made the journey into the mountains. The path had led through forest and over river, and I saw and heard all manner of strange woodland creature both day and night.

The cave was at the base of the great mountain. The entrance was decorated with carvings of red and blue stone, depicting gods, warriors, battles, dragons, demons, emperors, and feasts.

As I stood at the threshold of the cave, I hesitated. All the grand statues looked down on me. I felt the weight of expectation, as if my life was no longer my own. As if I was now living someone else’s story. And had I ever really been living my own story? All of my life had been spent training, studying, preparing for the trials.

I stepped back and looked at a mountain in the distance. Could I go there instead? My body was telling me to go, to climb the peak, to see what was on the other side, what could be waiting for me beyond. To leave behind all my schooling, all the expectations, and just go. My body was urging me to go anywhere but the cave, but my mind was strong.

My powerful mind, trained over the years to focus, to solve problems, to do the uncomfortable, to do what I was told. To crush the whimsies of childhood, pulverizing them and using the powder to mold bricks, building walls and channels. Disciplined, forcing my energies to flow only into the proper activities.

And I had been successful, hadn’t I? Because as I stood at the threshold I choked that glimmer, that urge for adventure, to break from the path – until it died silently within me. Without looking back, I stepped inside and walked down the large stone steps.

I had been told nothing about what waited for me inside the cave. It was forbidden to speak of what lay within. I walked down the steps and found myself in a large chamber illuminated by torches. On the right the torches glowed with red flame, and on the left, blue. As I walked forward I saw two statues toward the back of the chamber, and as I approached I saw that one was made of red stone and one of blue stone. Behind each statue was an archway built into the back wall, each one opening into a stone tunnel leading into darkness.

Each statue portrayed a regal, serious looking old man, and they turned to face me as I came to stand before them.

There was a pause while they looked me up and down, and then the red statue spoke, “And why have you come here to these great halls?”

I said what I had been told to say, “To fulfill my destiny, as did those who came before.”

The blue statue spoke sternly, “And whether you are capable remains to be seen. First you will enter my halls of knowledge, where you will be tested. Only if you pass these tests will you be allowed to enter the halls of strength.”

The red statue nodded, “Take nothing with you. Enter naked and empty handed. You will not want for food or water, for things here are not as they are outside.”

And so I removed my clothes, my shoes, and my traveling gear and placed them neatly before the statues. The pile burst into flames and was gone. The statues both pointed to the blue archway, and as if someone else was controlling my body I walked forward and into the tunnel.

Days, weeks, months, and perhaps years passed as I made my way through tunnels, chambers, trials, and tests. Strange puzzles, tests of mathematics, physics, literature, and history. Metal spheres and cubes, scales and weights and balances, parchments and inks and measures. Strange experiments of biology and sciences unknown to me. Yes, I passed them all, and for a long time I felt the exhilaration of competence, of success. My mind was strong and agile, my focus was singular. Confirmation that I was indeed worthy.

Worthy of what? Who decides who and what is and is not worthy? And what happens when there are no more puzzles or tests to show my worthiness? Those pesky questions kept bubbling to the surface as time went on. I would distract myself by focusing on the next room, calculating the velocity of a golden pendulum swinging through oil, water, and air, but then the task was complete and I walked silently in another hallway dimly illuminated by blue light.

But there had to be something at the end of all this. Why had I been sent here if there wasn’t? Why had this entire temple been built generations ago? All of the others before must have felt this, this pull to do something else, something different. That must be the weakness I was told to purge myself of. The others must have conquered that urge as well – stifled it, snuffed it out.

And so I continued on. The tests became more and more complex, until I came to a large cavern. I sensed that this was my final test. The floor was covered in small switches of many different colors. Thousands of them. Each switch had nine possible positions. As I examined the room I discovered that the lights in the room would change in color every few minutes, changing the perceived colors of the switches. For a long time I studied the switches, looking for patterns. After a full day the lights had completed their cycle. I continued to observe for days, but I saw no logical patterns. No fractals, no exponents, no logarithms, nothing that made sense.

I felt repulsion. My body screamed at me to leave this place. I was overcome with despair. I lay there on the stone floor for hours and days, refusing to face the reality that I wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t pass this test. I sobbed until there were no more tears.

I stood up, dizzy, and stumbled across the floor, stumbling across switches, hearing them click beneath my feet. I looked down and I saw a row of switches – crimson, pale purple, teal, bright orange, dark gray. I heard something inside of me, or maybe I felt it.

9, 3, 6, 2, 1.

There was no explanation, but I clicked them into position. There was a soft cracking noise and the 5 switches and the tiles they were embedded on sank down ever so slightly and changed to a light pink color.

My mind began racing, looking for a logical explanation, but this time there was another voice, the same one that had given me the numbers.

Do not analyze. Feel. Listen.

I looked at a cluster of switches adjacent to the now light pink ones. Once again I heard numbers. I switched them all into place, a cluster of 21 switches this time, and there was a cracking and a sinking and they turned a medium shade of pink. And so I continued. The colors shifted and I continued to hear the numbers. Were they numbers? Impulses? Patterns? Sounds? Frequencies? Rhythms? Yes, it was all of these. I continued. Large swaths of colors, painting with my intention, with some part of myself that had never been able to speak like this before.

I continued, taking breaks to enjoy the colors, the gradients, not needing to understand the purpose or the pattern but just enjoying how it all looked. As I reached the far end of the cavern I looked back, and I saw it – a sun rising over a mountain. The lights changed colors and the sun rose a little higher. I turned to the final switches and put them into position. I turned back again and saw the lights begin to shift faster, the sun rising with pinks and oranges, then daylight and blue and white and yellow, and then sunset and purple and red and black. And then the floor and the room went completely dark.

A spotlight shone down onto a pedestal I had not seen before. On the pedestal there was a blue crystal rod. I approached the pedestal, and a voice reverberated in the cavern, “You have proven your abilities in knowledge and reasoning, and have climbed one step higher towards greatness. Take this tool of mental power and go forth to further prove your worth.”

I picked up the rod and blinked my eyes and found myself back in the entry hall, standing before the two statues.

The blue statue crossed his arms, looking annoyed. “This should not be. You should not have been able to pass the final trial.”

The red statue nodded and spoke, “And yet the trial has been passed. Now it is time to prove your strength of body and constitution.”

My body once again strained with every fiber to walk away. And there was the new voice inside me now too – this is not your path.

But I had come so far. Everything in my life had led me to this place. I had been told over and over that this was the highest achievement, the truest form of success and fulfillment. Passing the trials, and returning to hold a position of influence. Status, money, power. It would make all the dedication, all the deprivation, all the commitment worth it. I had to see it through.

I walked forward into the red archway, and down a long stairway. At first it was a tunnel, but as I descended the walls opened up, leaving only exposed stone stairs. I could see red torches twinkling far in the distance and far below. The effect was dizzying, and I felt my heart beat faster. The stairs narrowed, and now there was open space between each step, and then they were small stone platforms several feet apart. My knees were shaking as I leapt from stone to stone, trying not to look down at the emptiness below.

The stones began to shift and move, and I leapt from one to the next. It took all of my focus and coordination to keep my balance and not panic. One final leap and I found myself on the other side of the massive cavern, standing on a large slab of rock. I saw a rough doorway carved into the stone wall, and I walked through.

As I had been tested in the trials of knowledge, I was now tested in the trials of strength. Endurance, pain, fighting stone golems, climbing dizzying cliffs, holding great weights on my shoulders, running miles and miles over thorns and hot coals. And I had prepared for these as well. My body had been honed over the years to be able to withstand great effort and excruciating pain. The tenderness, the weakness, it had all been hammered out of me until all that was left was steel.

But can it ever be fully hammered out? For I knew deep down that I was not a machine, and in those moments between trials, in the dim red light of the tunnels, I yearned for a tender embrace, to be held, to be soothed, to soak in warm scented waters. Even the thought of it made the emotions well up until they were unbearable. And yet I continued on.

On and on, until I came to a small room. Inside I saw a child sitting at a table, drawing. I walked closer and saw their bold colorful artwork, so free and playful. It felt familiar. The child turned and I saw them – it was me. My child self. I looked down at my own hand and the blue rod was now a red knife.

A voice echoed through the room, “Now, as a final act of strength, you must kill the child, and with it any remaining weakness, tenderness, nostalgia, and frivolity. Only then can you move forward to fulfill your destiny.”

My child self smiled up at me. I knew instantly that I couldn’t do it. I set the knife on the table and knelt down to look them in the eyes. They held out their drawing to me and I saw the mountains, the sunrise, and a path leading up to the peak and beyond. I gave them a hug and felt the tears streaming down my face. I could feel their warmth soaking into me, melting the steel into something different, something alive. I felt a shift in the air and opened my eyes. Surrounded by stone, only darkness behind me from where I came.

I have come back to where I began my tale. I look down and the blue rod is on the ground next to me. I pick it up and it changes into a glowing white sledgehammer. I strike the wall in front of me. An explosion of light. Cracks branch out. I strike again and the wall collapses. I step through and find myself standing before the statues again. They have looks of surprise and fear on their faces. They did not expect this. The red statue reaches out to grab the hammer but I swing back and then forward, striking his chest and shattering him. The blue statue attempts to lunge backwards but their feet are bound to the base of the pedestal where they stand. Instead they topple over and crumble to pieces on the floor.

The temple is shaking now like an earthquake, and the walls are beginning to crack. I race outside, still naked, holding the hammer. Outside I watch as the elaborate exterior of statues collapses, sealing the entrance shut. The dust settles and I am staring now at ruins.

I notice that I am now holding a purple walking stick. It is light and strong, and I sense that it can hear my thoughts. I would like some shoes and clothes. I think to the stick. The stick points to a field of tall grasses nearby, and I watch as the grass gathers and weaves itself around me into a beautiful pair of shoes, pants, a cloak, and a hat. I feel a rush of happiness, the grass feels soft and smooth and cool against my skin.

I know that I cannot return from where I came, but I don’t want to. I feel free. I no longer feel the pull to be what I was told to be. I feel only alignment in the direction I want to go. To the mountain, and to whatever I find beyond. I look once more at the ruins before turning away and beginning to walk, smiling, into the beautiful unknown.