Story -

Devil's Cave

Devil's Cave

Upon expressing thoughts, judgement shall always ensue.

I struggle to write these words because I reflect on how they will be judged...and they will be, no matter what one says otherwise. They must be filed somewhere in the reader's mind, either in the wastebasket or in a myriad of infinite drawers; so impossibly breathtaking is each individual's unique journey on this planet.

If even undertaken, some few will read what I'm about to say...what I'm saying now...as endless drivel; the infamous "rambling manifesto" of a Facebook journalist. Others will see things from self-pity to narcissism; wandering rants from a middle-aged man stuck forever in the arrested development of a teenager searching for self. Yet, some very few may glean, somehow, the precise feeling I'm experiencing right now, right at this moment. It's at once, the most terrifying place I've ever been and yet most curious, most quintessentially intriguing, beguiling, mysterious path. Where I am right now, draws me in, like the deep dark cave I almost walked into as a very young boy, knowing the possibility I may never exit, lost forever.

Sunday, October 5, 1969

Harris Hill, Williamsville, New York, behind Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church, in the tree-covered woods of a vacant lot...

I'm poised at its entrance now and actually have stepped a few feet in. Darkness begins to envelope me. The light of day has just now receded behind me, my eyes no longer having its security to see what is truly ahead. I am beginning to adjust to the darkness yet I still cling desperately to the waning light. Even as all of this is happening, even as my heart jumps and my stomach churns violently, I step forward, almost reflexively as if another entity has taken over control of my ability to respond. I realize, mixed with the acidic fear within my belly is a wanting anticipation, an experience my mind craves yet abhors.

Every fiber of my being, my rational self, clings to a survival mechanism that would have me turn around, somehow, and flee from where I am, run to the light, fast... run, as far as I can, away and as I do, relive the terror of looking into an abyss and realizing I almost became part of it. Yet, I know. God help me, I know.

Now, today, this day. I know.

I am old enough to know that the farther away I run from the darkness, the darkness becomes more menacing. It becomes a phobia the likes of which cannot be rationalized, cannot be relived or even imagined. The more I run toward security and protection, the more menacing the darkness lurks just "over there" in that deep dark cave I once stepped childishly within.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

I've entered the cave.

I am four days into a job desperately needed. Already, I have broached the first of many, seemingly disastrous plagues ahead. I struggled, desperately to finish my day on Friday with enough time to rest for the long day ahead Saturday, while still maintaining my seventeen-mile, hard and fast bicycle commutes. I texted my boss that I needed to be
finished by four, p.m. in order to ride home by five and be in bed by six, so as to sleep at least seven hours, be awake by one in the morning and on my way back to work at two, arriving on my bicycle at three. I knew, already, from experience, his perception of my desperate plea. I knew he was thinking, maybe even saying aloud...

"Who does this guy think he is and what this job is all about...SEVEN HOURS SLEEP??? He's not going to last thinking he has that luxury! And what's with the bicycle? He has a car? This guy is living in a dreamworld."

This company is desperate for people. He has hired back a half dozen people after having fired them because no one wants to be there. Even with the great pay it is brutal work. I was hired to train his workforce and my job is among the hardest of them all. I must find a way to train and motivate "bottom-rung" employees and baby-sit them, working with them as they flounder through each day, turning ten hour jobs into fourteen, fifteen, sixteen hour insanity. It is my responsibility to make sure each job is finished and to put out fires from customers not serviced properly. Even my boss is massively stressed having suffered a heart attack two years ago the last time I worked with him. He is a naturally good-natured person yet he is cursed and screamed at by his supervisor, who happens to be his wife's brother.

Already now, Monday we face an employee more than likely being fired which means it will be my responsibility to make sure his responsibility are covered until my boss can desperately find another person to fill the job. Endless days and endless confrontations await me in the darkness ahead.

Yet, even before I ventured into this cavern, I knew what would happen...every bit of it. I walked into the entrance knowing full well what to expect; the unexpected, every day, without exception, no exaggeration. I already knew my mindset going in; just to concentrate on getting the paycheck and paying the bills, somehow getting caught up,
somehow getting through.

But there is more here, so much more to consider. There is the existential "why" of it.

Even as desperate as I am to be the responsible person I need to be in my heart, why on Earth was this an option, especially knowing what was to happen, entering a deep dark cave, never knowing what was directly in front of me yet having experienced the falls from years gone by? "Why on Earth am I doing this?"

Because, even as I scream now otherwise; I cannot deny the adventure within...the spirit deep in my soul that foolishly confronts and seeks to defy in order to find a path less
traveled. It's as if I'm expecting to discover a shorter route to the spice trades of the Far East and instead discovering what some have already discovered, planting my flag on
soil already inhabited and declaring it now, "inhabited".

Yet few journey as I journey now. I rode my bike home yesterday in tears refusing to slow down, refusing to give in, screaming as my tired, seventy hour work legs pumped tragically on the pedals up the steep Midpoint Bridge in a massive headwind that had me going almost at walking speed!

I made it home. I vanquished the day. I destroyed the week. I got through the first few feet of the cave. Now, on Sunday my only day off, the only time I have to really reflect on anything, I sit here and desperately try not to anticipate what is in store for me for the
next six days.

My stomach churns.

All of this seems to have inoculated me from the scourging disease of not having had a
real, true career, an actual trade; a way of life now for almost seven years.

I try desperately to think of it in relative terms. I could be suffering from an actual disease, be desperately out of work as are some of my good friends. I could be
homeless. There are countless tragedies almost infinitely worse than the deep dark cave in which I have decided to journey now. At once I think how spoiled rotten to the core I am for licking my wounds with a sorrowful scowl.

And yet, I see a famous person, talented beyond measure, rich in personal experience, rewarded by his contemporaries, lauded by almost all, happiness, seemingly ensconcing his near environs, place a belt around his neck and collapse the weight of his body upon a doorknob sucking the breath from his lungs forever.

Pain, even life-ending pain is relative to each of us.

And so, the paradox of judgmental, non-judgmental consideration lurks within all of us. One may see me entering this deep dark cave, shaking their head with incredulity as they dismiss my wanderings while they acquire their latest toys, achieve their so-called goals and climb the ladder, pretending that, "he who dies with the most toys wins", or some rationalized version of that. Another may look in pity as I carry-on, attempting to wax eloquent on the foibles of life. Yet another will somehow find a connection in what I say and see the same darkness ahead that I see, back-lit from the vanishing sun at the entrance to the cave and they too shall wonder,

"what truly lurks ahead in that vast, dark unknown and why must it be that I run from the darkness, pretending that the life I lead is guaranteed a happiness that is as fleeting as the smell of the new car I just purchased?"

God help me, I will always venture into the unknown cave rather than run in circles chasing fresh carrots on sticks. The greatest fear I've always had was not the cave but the light of a day in a ten-thousand-square-foot foot house, four car garage, in-ground pool, money in the bank and a man in the mirror saying,

"Is that all there is?"

I see so many photos sometimes of people on Facebook who, the more they show me how happy they are, the more I see a desperate facade. One only has to enter the cave to see the true light of day. So blinded are those who scream happiness on a pleasure trip to Europe when in fact those of us who deal in reality see terrified souls who have avoided the cave. It is not envy that drives me onward, it is the ultimate paradox. Those that would have pity on me, I truly pity.

I will gladly explore the cave. I will ride my bike to a dead-end job confronting the unknown rather than lie to myself, running from the cave and allowing the fear of its presence to bathe me in the intoxication of a very terrified culture that pretends otherwise. I will always confront the unknown and never shy away from the darkness.

I explore, not afraid of fear but confronting it all the same.

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