Creatures of the Forest

For every child who once believed, and every adult who forgot.

Do you look at the forest when you’re driving? Do you remember looking over at the forest when you were packed like a sardine with your sibling in the back seat of the blue wagon with fake wood on the sides, while your Dad drove, and your Mom tried to keep your Dad entertained, telling him about her favorite restaurants? Do you remember seeing figures in the forest, strange beings, maybe even monstrous and terrifying at times? Do you remember telling your parents what you saw and them calmly telling you that it was nothing more than your childish imagination at work?

And then you, too, grew older, and you, too, stopped looking over at the forest. And you, too, told your children in the same condescending way that what they saw was nothing more than their childish imagination at work. Well then, let me be the adult in the car that tells you that it was everything more than your childish imagination at work. Let me be the one to tell you that there are strange beings, sometimes helpful and kind. And if there are helpful and kind beings, there are monstrous beings too, who are vile and vengeful. And don’t be fooled by looks! Oh no! Looks can be deceiving and can be the traveler’s biggest foe…for I’ve been fooled many times by the sly grin of a charming man and chided by the wicked smile of a buxom lady. Friends and foes come in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes, too, in capes and disguises!

Have you heard of the spirit guides? And why do you think they are called the spirit guides? Because they carry with them soul books, of all shapes and sizes, and sometimes, too, in drapes and guises! And just like those strange beings who can either be pleasant or downright repulsive, soul books, too, can be a pleasure to read or grotesque. So once again, I remind you, don’t be fooled by the fancy sleeve of a book, no matter even if one is draped in red velvet or adorned with sparkling jewels, for it could be a clever guise, meant to trick you. Once the soul book is opened and those dormant words on paper are read, they come back to life, reincarnated, only it is you who has to live that soul’s journey! So be wise when choosing a book, and don’t judge it by its cover. You will discover, sometimes, that the most inconspicuous, boring-looking book that has collected so much dust over the centuries, as it sits hidden at the bottom of a spirit guide’s sack, could be the most precious gemstone you have ever read! The spirit guides chronicle the entire course of a soul’s journey. It could be on our planet, or it could be on another planet, but that’s an entire other story that’s to be continued. There is a soul book for each soul that has roamed Earth and every other planet in the universe, no matter how short or how long their life was. It has all been recorded in the journal known as the soul book. Not only do the spirit guides carry these books with them, but they also update them. To make things easier for them and the souls they try to guide, they lay out choices in front of the souls. When the soul chooses either one, the spirit guide writes it down in the book.

William had forgotten all about those creatures in the forest. The doldrums of everyday life, the constant ringing of the alarm, stumbling out of bed, drinking coffee without breakfast, shuffling out the door, driving an hour commute on a highway that would be a challenge for Mad Max, working a job that didn’t inspire him, coming back home dead tired, eating something in front of the TV, going to bed, and repeating the same steps, was eating away at poor old William. Yeah, at some point in his miserable life, William decided to “check out completely” and give up on any sign of his dream. He was content with a slow march to the grave or, as he often dreamt, drifting into the Ganges River, where his ashes would become one with the holy waters that pilgrims dipped their bodies in.

It was on his drive home from work that it happened: his catharsis or his most pathetic, shameful moment. He let his work get to him. He thought everything was going fine but after a performance evaluation with his boss, he wrestled with the news that he wasn’t delivering the way he was expected to. William is someone who takes his work very seriously and to hear that was a blow to his pride. The unexpected news hit me so hard, he went back in time. Back to when he was eight years old and had dreams of becoming a movie director. It’s the reason why he went to art school and why he drove clear across the country to Hollywood shortly after he graduated. Yet there he was twenty-five years later having to hear that his performance was not up to par in a job that he wasn’t too excited to be doing in the first place. His big dreams were now lost in a forest that he stopped searching for mysterious creatures roaming around in. Those dreams were lost in the pages of his soul book and somewhere, his spirit guide, was flipping through the pages, sobbing for William.

No one can govern your own happiness. This is true, but it’s difficult to follow this doctrine, when you’re just completely exhausted. That was the case for William, who felt defeated by the world.

William would bite his tongue, until he tasted the iron in his blood. He would clench his fists, and punch at the sky imagining that he was smacking the entire world out of the galaxy. Why? Because poor William was sick of all the nonsense.

William grew up listening to The Smiths. He believed in Morrissey’s lyrics more than anything coming out of his pastor’s mouth in Church. William especially resonated with the song, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”. Morrissey sang “I was looking for a job, and then I found a job, and heaven knows I’m miserable now. In my life, oh, why do I give valuable time to people who don’t care if I live or die?”

William knew Morrissey was right. William knew he was expendable. He knew at any time he could be replaced and that thought concerned him. In him grew a fear and uncertainty of the future. William always wanted to do something he enjoyed. But it seemed he could never catch a break and every time he would try to do something he enjoyed, an obstacle or roadblock would appear in the form of a horrible boss or vengeful coworker, that would derail him off his path to success. So, William just gave up chasing his dreams and he gave his life away for a mediocre job that didn’t feed or nourish his soul.

That’s why it’s important to find something you enjoy. Especially when you’re getting older like William was. William was tired of trying to prove himself all the time and having to constantly learn something new instead of doing something he was just good at. He dreamt of doing something that came to him like second nature. People would come to William to learn how to draw. As a kid, drawing was how William would explain what was happening to him…he would draw it on a piece of paper. That was his language. That’s all William wanted to do. Draw and listen to The Smiths.

It sounds simple, doesn’t it? Why doesn’t William just get a job drawing for Disney or become a comic book artist?

But most of us never get that “dream job”. Most of us have to slave our days away at a job we’re not too thrilled about and learn to get along with people who we wouldn’t have hung out with in high school or college. That’s just life.

William has friends who graduated with him from art school, and they manage their own design studios and get to work with all the “cool kids” producing advertisements, movie title openings, and television show title sequences. William knows it’s a sin to have envy in his heart, but he still envies his friends.

At 50, he still thinks, “Why not me?”

And when his poor parents called, William just let it all out. His dad is 80 and will soon be 81. His mom is 75. By the time his parents called, everything from the last year at work overwhelmed William to the point that he just exploded. When his dad tried to explain, that management is just testing him since he’s finishing up a year at his new career, William just heard Thom Yorke sing, “I’m a reasonable man, get off my back,” and that’s exactly what he wanted to yell at work.

And then it happened, William unloaded and told his dad that he wasn’t equipped to deal with the world. Then he went on to say that’s why he was single, that’s why he wasn’t married, that’s why he wasn’t a father, and that’s why he didn’t want to have children of his own. Because he was not equipped! And he yelled it at the top of his lungs. It was so loud that he busted his own eardrums, and he shook his car with his roar. Then he continued. It should have been me who was aborted! I should never have been born! That must have hit his parents like a ten-ton truck. At that point, he could hardly steer the car. He had to pull over onto a dirt road pull-off in front of some old church, which he passed by every day on his way home from work. The cars behind him passed by and looked over as he buried his head into the steering wheel. His heart was beating so rapidly, it felt like it was going to burst out of his body like an alien, turn around, and devour him. He busted out crying hysterically like a little child, wheezing, and whimpering. He was shaking like an addict addicted to self-sabotage. Then he cried out I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m so sorry. His parents both kept repeating, “It’s okay, son”. His Dad, consoled him, “We are here for you. We are always here.” And then he yelled back, “No, you’re not! I’m all alone.” Then he paused.

William glanced over to see a creature in the wooded distance, staring at him, crying profusely. The shaggy furred creature’s tears flooded the plains, and the weeping stream rushed towards him. The creature’s furry hands were holding a journal so thick that its golden pages were almost falling out.

Looking at the gigantic journal in his spirit guide’s furry hands, he realized that he had managed to pack so many lives into one lifetime. William worked as a prop designer on films, a theater director’s assistant, a technical school instructor, a technical support engineer, a freelance illustrator, and real estate agent, and now at 50, he couldn’t figure out how he got here, sitting in his car, having a mental breakdown.

William was just tired. Not burned out. Not silently quitting or any other explanation that the corporate world likes to use. William sat back in his car seat and felt his soul shrinking in exhaustion. The soul gets tired when the meaning of life has been sucked out of it.

He immediately wiped his tears and softly said to his parents, “I’m sorry, I know you’re here. You’ve always been with me. I’m strong. We are strong. We are a family. I’m okay. I will be alright.”

And his dad said, “You are alright, son. You are alright, and we love you.”

I will end this story with a happy thought.

William had a vivid dream that night.

He was standing in front of the forest and there he saw his spirit guide, the furry creature, carrying a knapsack, swung around his back. And in that knapsack was William’s soul book, hanging out slightly, its golden seam shining and reflecting in the sunlight.

William called out to his spirit guide and asked, “What’s the meaning of life?”

And the spirit guide whispered back, “Just be happy.”