Journey to the Center

I love the realm of myth--these stories that are true at the deepest possible level. They are true in that their point and purpose seem burned on every heart, their characters ring true with every individual, and their patterns and structure seem to repeat and reverberate through history. These stories transcend simple history--they simply Are.

At church we're talking about creation. In dramatic fashion god fashions something out of nothing adding layers and layers of complexity to the equation. And with every step God stands back and admires his work: "it is good."

The climax of the process, of course, is the creation of man. And it is "very good."

But the ecstasy of "very good" doesn't last very long. This first man was lonely and for the first time in Judeo-Christian tradition something is deemed as "not good."

Before the Fall, before the planet is populated, before we have civilization and war and Harlequin romance novels our history tells us that man was alone.

There it is, the human condition in a nutshell.

How does God provide for this need? A companion is fashioned. A helpmate is created. A partner in life is enlisted. And, if you know the story, it goes downhill from there...

But those ancient words ring so true. At the creation of Eve it is written that a man will leave his mother and father and be united to his wife. And so it is.

In many ways I am Adam (which is simply Hebrew for "man"). I wander through this paradise (ok, it is Ohio) with seemingly every need met. And yet I am unsatisfied. I too, am lonely. Filling this hole that we are all created with is a quest of mythic proportions. As the ancient story shows us you don't need to have experienced the loss of a particular person to long for the presence of someone--Adam experienced loneliness before he ever experienced togetherness.

But in our quest some of us have first experienced that togetherness. Does that make the quest easier or harder? I don't know.

My own personal journey has taken some peculiar turns. I have wandered through isolation and togetherness and back again. I have given my life to another and then been betrayed. I have tried telling myself--wanting to will myself to believe--that I was searching for the wrong object, that my quest was in vain, maybe even inappropriate, possibly even sinful. Ah, but that ancient narrative is reassuring even to me. God created man and it was good--and then it wasn't.

Just like my life.

In my quest I met someone last month. Like all things fresh and new I was excited. She is beautiful and smart, independent and confident. I felt simultaneously nervous and at ease. But it wasn't to be. We could probably still count the conversations we've shared in hours when she tells me that she has reconnected with an ex-boyfriend. You see, she too is on a quest--another myth being relived by the moment.

We cannot ever forget or escape that: the myth is ever present and always being lived out among us.

While I appreciated this person's honesty with me I was saddened. I think I was saddened less by the particulars and more by the overriding disappointment. Talking only to myself I can only sigh and say "another wrong turn, another dead end."

As I watch the myth being lived out in others I question my own history. There are no ex-es of mine to which I would possibly return. What does that say about me? And that's twice now in the past couple of years that I've met someone only to have her return to a previous relationship. What does that say about me?

Those things say nothing. They illuminate that the world is a big, random place. They illustrate that we are all on a journey--and the journey is dramatic, and eventful, and surprising. All of us people, sometimes we simply become alerted to these strange goings-on around us--sometimes you are all as scared of me as I am startled by all of you.