You wake up one day in the middle of a thick forest. You don’t know how you got here, but you’re here nonetheless. Somewhere deep down you know that there must be a way through this forest. You know deep down that the trees can’t go on forever. You know deep down that you’ve been tasked with making a path out of this forest. Fortunately next to you is an axe. You’re not completely alone out here. You have at least one tool at your disposal.
What do you do next? If you’re ever going to find your way through this forest then a path must be made. You grab that axe and you begin to make space. You hack away at the brush immediately in front of you. You take action. Sitting on the ground isn’t going to get you anywhere. Lamenting the fact that you’re in the forest isn’t going to help move you forward. You grab your axe and you make yourself some space to move. You begin to carve a path.
In the beginning you have no idea where you’re going. How could you? Everything is completely unfamiliar. There’s not a landmark to be found. You chop and you chop and you chop some more. You look up and realize that you’ve come full circle. All of your effort has brought you right back to where you started. That’s going to feel really bad. That’s going to make you feel like giving up.
You’re not right back where you started, though. Not really. You’re stronger. Your muscles have developed from all of that axe swinging. You’re more skilled, able to cut through obstacles with more finesse and more precision. You’re wiser. You suddenly realize that if you climb a tree you might have a chance of getting the lay of the land. You might get a sense of the best direction to try next. That hadn’t occurred to you at the beginning, Things that later seem obvious rarely are that obvious when you first begin. You start a new path with this new awareness. You move forward bit by bit, gaining wisdom and strength as you go. Clearing space, gathering wisdom and strength. The time spent in the forest moulds and shapes you. It’s a lot of time alone, so you have time to think while you’re swinging your axe. You begin to realize that there is beauty in this forest. Shapes and colors and wild things all around you. You become more present as you move forward. If you have to be in the forest then you might as well notice the trees. You don’t stop carving out your path, but the process becomes much more enjoyable than it was when you first began.
When you’re in the forest you’re going to try things to move through it that don’t work. You’re going to trip on roots. You’re going to get scraped up. You’re going to get tired. You’re going to have moments of despair. That’s all a part of the process. You pick yourself up and begin again.
Maybe you find your way through to the other side, and maybe you don’t. You have to be prepared for either possibility. Maybe while you’re carving your path you realize that you kinda like the woods, and you already went to the trouble of carving all of these paths to move around. Even if you make it through to the other side, you soon realize that ‘the other side’ isn’t someplace that you can rest for very long. There are always other forests. There are always going to be places that you have to move through.
You realize that you weren’t really in a forest. You were just where you needed to be at that moment. It’s just a bunch of trees and you’re someone with an axe.