You’re alone. You’ve been thrown down a deep dark hole somewhere and no one can find you. Nobody’s coming to help either. It’s not that they don’t want to or don’t care, it’s just that nobody knows how to solve the riddle of your predicament. It’s not like they didn’t try either. They gave it their best effort. But the nature of your problem doesn’t fit into a box that anyone knows how to unpack yet, so they turned their attention to those they can actually help. For now, you’re on your own.
This hole you’re in can take many forms: chronic pain, mental health issues, addiction, grief, you name it. It doesn’t matter how you got you here — you’re here. At the bottom. It’s so dark. The reality of your situation upends you and you collapse on the ground in a heap. Distraught and broken, you find yourself wishing for the cave to close in on you and just get it over with. But it doesn’t. The damn walls never budge.
Time passes. You’re not sure how long. But you notice that your condition hasn’t changed. The walls are still there, but you’re not getting any worse. At the bottom there is nowhere left to fall. For the first time in a long time, some positive thoughts start to flicker. Just because help isn’t coming today, doesn’t mean there won’t be any tomorrow. So you look around in the dark and try to get a sense of your surroundings. First you feel the cold, clammy stone around you. You notice the dirt and the discomfort of the cave’s floor. You become aware of the parts of your body that still work ok. You run your fingers over the cracks and crevices of your condition and start to make sense of exactly where you are at. Now if only I could see a way out.
Squinting your eyes you think there is a light far above and away, but it’s obscured by a precipice jutting out from the walls above your head. Perhaps you can climb towards it. You don’t have any tools or knowhow, but you give it a try. Digging your fingers into the grimy stone, you look for a hold. Sometimes you’re able to find one and you can move a little bit forward. Sometimes you find the rock is too slick and you slide back down a few feet towards the floor. But little by little, you make your way. The going is slow.
Over time, the light grows a little broader and you believe you see a way out. You’ve got a long way to go, but you’re pretty sure you can get there. You can hear voices outside the cave now, and some of them call out to you. Some of them shout advice, indicating you’re doing it wrong, and you should take a different approach. A faster approach. As you try to absorb their words you can feel yourself sliding back down the cave’s walls. It’s no good chasing those voices. Your way was working. It was the only way that was working. You just need more time. You block those voices out.
As you continue to climb, some other voices emerge. They’re small, but they are there, offering nothing but encouragement. Faith. They know how hard this is and just want you to know that they’ll be there when you’ve figured it all out. That they will always be there. They haven’t abandoned you. These are the voices you need. These are the ones that extend invisible hands that help pull you forward. It might not look like it to anyone else, even them, but they are the help you’ve been looking for. With them, you can get there. Listen to them, because they are the ones listening to you.
Great analogy of life as a whole. I remember those dark days and yes you just shut out the loud voices and focus inward and things become clearer.
Thanks Jen! You know, I don’t think I would have ever seen it this way unless I went through it. If I was trying to help someone thru such a mess, I probably would have been perplexed why the person can’t seem to accept help or change course.