From Darkness (A Team Offering)

From Darkness

By Soldier

 

Our minds are a maze with no map. We stumble without bearings, compass, or map; in darkness, in the cold, and alone. No guide, no destination, and not a fucking clue. Hopelessness consumes us and it seems easier to crawl under a convenient overhang, curl into the fetal position and quit than to continue to move on and keep fighting. Fighting is exhausting. It takes strength, determination, courage, and purpose. Without purpose, without a destination; what’s the point?

We were there. We stood in the center of what appeared nothing but a vast wasteland and wondered Why? Tattered remnants and ghosts of the past clawed at our feet and writhed about our shoulders. The past became the present and we were lost in it. The voices echoed and our own voices were lost in the babble. ‘I am but an echo in a crowded room’. It was all that was left. Psychedelic, kaleidoscopic, technicolor nightmares infiltrated sleep. Exhaustion became the key feature of every breathing moment. Life was unbearable and no escape seemed possible.

At which point, you begin to think the unthinkable. What choice remains?

The Universe is always there to guide you if you open yourself to hearing it. We were NOT ready to quit!

There is no quick fix. What took a lifetime to destroy can take an equal lifetime to reassemble. Cities weren’t built overnight, even if they can fall in the blinking of an eye. And then they are rebuilt. We know this. We can look to the falls of mighty edifices and entire cities that have fallen in the face of disasters both natural and man-inflicted and see that, with grit and determination, they were restored. We are no less an edifice which fell to disaster. And we, too, can be rebuilt. One… brick… at a time.

We fall. We stand. We rebuild. Each time we rise to fight on, we’re that much stronger and better prepared to face disaster the next time around.

One thing we’re slowly learning (and I, for my part, concede this as my own guilty secret, that I’ve been the most reluctant to learn) is that no General fights alone. Accepting help is not a sign of weakness but of strength. It takes a team to fight. And it takes a team to win. Even a solo operator doesn’t get to acting solo without a team standing behind him. There’s always a support team behind the scenes… somewhere. It is both ignorance and arrogance to assume otherwise.

We are grateful to our supporters.

It’s been a long silence and yet, relatively speaking, not such a long silence at all. It felt longer than it was because silence is deafening and terror is interminable when you’re in it. What felt like forever was, in fact, barely a blinking in the passing of time. The Universe smiled and it was over. It passes. The Light grows. We return, admittedly scarred and battle-weary, but victorious because, instead of taking us or driving us to oblivion, we hold our heads high and shout, “Up yours!”

 

Ungagged

By Writer

 

Being left without a voice is, without any word of a lie, the most painful experience I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing. I might as well have had my throat slit. It was akin to being bound, gagged, and blindfolded and left for dead in a lightless basement. It was torture! To not be able to formulate a single coherent thought to transcribe our experiences and visions to the page, to be kept silent and wordless, to be stifled and incapacitated. There are still no words sufficient.

I don’t know exactly when the light began to shine. I can’t put a specific time to it because it was slow and unsteady and erratic. Just when we thought we were breaking free, the gates would slam shut, only to crack open sufficient for a glimmer of light, a promise of freedom not yet attained. All credit to Soldier for not quitting, for forcing us to work together and not quit, for forcing us into an unprecedented cohesion. We are a team, she said. We’ve not heard those words from her before. Soldier is all about going it alone, bearing the burdens of our journey on her own shoulders, and refusing to share. Weakness, she’d say. I am Soldier. I am the Way. When did it change? I don’t know the answer to that, either. It’s of no consequence now. There’s been a change and I’m not alone in being grateful.

Today, the words came back.

I’m not looking beyond today. Tomorrow, the words might once again be gone. It doesn’t matter. If I’ve had the words once, I can have them again. Today, I’m adding to our composite story, a tale of despair and recovery. With each passing day in which I have a voice, I’m one step closer to writing the stories waiting to be told, the ones I receive from a place beyond myself, the ones I’m once again beginning to see clearly, beyond the nightmares of the past interminable weeks.

The bonus to regaining my voice is that this time, for the very first time, I won’t be writing alone. Ok, I concede, I’ve often had Friend at my side (when he doesn’t interrupt me with his damn hot water and the hiding of my cigarettes!) but the rest of us (and I’m purposely choosing not to include those we can do without… yes, I’m glaring at you guys over there; Black, Warlock, Jealousy…) have been hard-pressed to have a voice. I’m grateful to Soldier for encouraging them to speak up.

Is this what it means to be one team? Not to be buried for only one to remain standing but for us to work together and become one voice? I can live with that. We appeared out of crisis and we all serve a purpose. Our purpose won’t change; it’s only how we serve that purpose which is destined to change. This is logical (Friend would like that). Logic has its place.  

Even as I write this, thoughts and inspiration, inklings of things to come, rush through me. Hope. I, we, have been without it for far too long. Even Soldier, who we all thought would never falter, struggled to hold us together and force us to continue. We almost fell beyond recovery. We have Soldier to thank for finding the path back to the Light.

We haven’t done this alone. It’s not only about us as one team, it’s about the external supports we’ve unexpectedly found. The people who stood by us and tolerated us, supported us, held us, and encouraged us, whether by word or deed, or even only in their silence. Their presence sufficed because they were genuinely waiting for us to figure it out, that they were there, and that they’d been there all along.

All thanks to the ever-lasting love of the Universe for guiding us through our trials and for not permitting us to quit. Wherever our Guide leads, we will follow.

 

Empathy

By Friend

 

Empathy is a word often misconstrued. How often have I heard someone claim to be an empath when they clearly have no true idea of what the word even means? I have lost count of the number.

Empathy is not to be confused with sympathy and most definitely not with pity. Both sympathy and pity can be driven more by personal motivation than by any genuine concern for the recipient. Empathy is selfless. There is no inherent desire in it for any personal emotional gain. True empaths have an instinctive ability to read another’s emotional state and know equally as instinctively the best way to motivate, support, and encourage that person. They force nothing, expect nothing, gain nothing. Their sole motivation is on account of the person to whom their empathy is directed. They feel what others feel without it needing to be said. They sense things others fail to appreciate even when the words are screamed at them. A true empath understands the value of solace in silence.

This is a shout-out to the empaths; the people who understood and said the right words at exactly the right time. They are rare jewels in among the coal and, if you find one, cling to them, for they are a treasure beyond reckoning.

In our number, I would count Arlan the true empath, even if, until now, he has not been counted one of us. Arlan thinks, not of himself, but of others, and treats all of us equally, even those we would cheerfully do without. He sees value in all things, be it the smallest of insectoids or the greatest of jewels. He sees hope where we see despair. He sees brightness in even the darkest of nights. Arlan, perhaps even more so than Soldier, has been the glue to keep our company together. I have to question whether we would have made it this far at all were it not for Arlan’s quiet presence at the rear of our company.

I have missed many things in our descent to the brink of chaos. Writing at Writer’s side has been one of those things. Even if I am rarely the one to put the words to the page, my forte being more to keep him concise, logical, and focused, his company when he writes is one of my greatest pleasures. And yes, I freely admit it amuses me to tease him with my intrusions upon him, replacing his coffee with hot water and hiding his cigarettes. Even Writer can admit we make a great team and the loss of his voice was mirrored by the loss of my own. It pained all of us equally, even those we had not anticipated would be affected.

Writer is at my shoulder now, smoke hanging from his lips, hand reaching for the coffee I would happily replace with hot water were it not that I am grateful for his presence. His presence reminds me of how dramatically things have changed. Where once we all fought for our individuality, thinking, erroneously as it turns out, that joining hands would entail losing ourselves, we are now discovering the power of unity. Writer thinks this is Soldier’s doing. I tend to think about it a little more broadly.

Soldier is no empath. Soldier tends to think solely in terms of black and white. She stands most confidently alone and insists on being sword-wielder, shield-bearer, flag-holder; the single General standing alone at the crest of the hill to challenge all takers. It has taken a great deal for Soldier to concede we all wish to play our part in the battle and that the opportunity to offer support to others is, in and of itself, a gesture of selflessness. Not permitting others to offer what support they can, albeit maybe not in the terms Soldier might anticipate, is no different from throwing back a freely given gift.

No. Although Soldier’s concession permits us our voice, even in times of crisis, the opportunity did not originate with her. It came from those who supported all of US as a composite whole. They, unwittingly perhaps, forced Soldier to reassess and adjust. Those empaths to whom this is dedicated. Those who did not intrude with their own crises and needs. Those who could lay themselves aside for a time and gift themselves to our healing.

To those selfless and treasured individuals; Thank you.

 

Unity

By Arlan

 

There are so many cliches to describe the journey from the night to the dawn. We’ve heard them all before and it makes the journey no easier when you’re on it, one slow, weary step after another. In the end, the realization that you’re not alone at all, even when that’s all you see, your personal solitude, because your gaze is fixed down, at your feet and the stone-strewn path winding endlessly through the desolation of despair, is what pulls you through. It is that hand upon your shoulder, the whisper of a warm breath on your cheek, the knowledge of another soul wishing you to not only survive but to thrive, that draws you back from the edge.

Even if it is said that, at the end of the day, we are alone; this is a fallacy. We are not alone. YOU are not alone. And WE were never alone.

We thought so, and I include myself in the number of WE, even if it took this journey to understand this was the truth, and if one thing has come from this trial, it’s that we now stand closer for the first time in our existence. Yes, we came as individuals. Each of us serve our own unique purpose and have our own distinct voices and talents. But this is no different from any combined company of individuals working to achieve a common goal. What use a sniper without a spotter? What use a driver without a navigator? What use a platoon without a commander?

If any one of us suffered the effects of our journey the most, perhaps it would be fair to say it was me. I saw and felt the suffering of each of the members of our combined force. They were helpless and isolated and lost. And I felt there was nothing I could do for them. My words of encouragement were lost to the wind and I screamed into the void and not a sound was made. I missed the people for whom I had been able to offer support outside and, equally as much, I missed the support they had offered in return. There is mutual blessing in give and take, the reciprocal gifts of caring.

If I have one wish for the journey going forward, it is that we continue to stand together. We can only grow stronger if we lean upon each other. We can only fight harder and win more concisely and with greater success. We will never be obsolete because the battle never ends. As long as we stand firm, together, we will be victorious. Unity. Together to the end!