To Karb - About the Way Forward
This is a letter I wrote for my friend (Karb is a name to keep their privacy), when he asked for an answer I wasn’t ready to give in person. It’s an exploration of fear, the necessity of the "climb," and the reality that healing isn’t a leap, but a series of small, intentional choices to stop running
You’ve asked me before.
Is there a way out of this?
I couldn’t answer you clearly then. it was raining, I had to leave, and I only told you what I knew how to say at the time. that there is a way, but it is blocked. that the road is there, but it is paved with monsters. the same ones you’ve been running from.
I’m sorry I left it hanging in an analogy. it was the only language I had in that moment. but I meant what I said. I prayed with you. we sent our wishes to God that we would make it. that a way exists.
the truth is, I don’t know for sure. I hope there is a way if we walk it. my heart isn’t fully faithful to that hope, but uncertainty does not mean impossibility. it only means I haven’t walked that road yet. I’ve explored every corner of my mind except this one. I’ve been avoiding it without knowing I was.
I don’t want to give you shallow optimism. I know how dark it can be to wish for light. I don’t want to look at this through cynicism either. somewhere between the two, as the tears quiet down and you start to push back, an answer begins to form. maybe slowly. maybe later.
you’ll return to this place more than once in your life. each time, you’ll choose. stay at the entrance, or walk in. fight, or run. running is allowed. it will keep you functional. but you won’t feel much. life will pass like sleep.
the truth, Karb, is that you’ll get beaten as you go higher. the climb gets harder, not easier. are you afraid? that usually means this is the road worth facing. are you terrified? that often means it’s been controlling you all along.
without visiting these parts of yourself, without walking this path, things won’t really change.
ask yourself honestly. are you where you want to be in life? are you in a moment that allows change? if yes, do it. if not, don’t force it. unless you feel it in your bones, don’t pretend you’re ready.
and when you are ready, when the time feels right, and you have even a little strength, light the candle. take it. when the cave calls you, answer. say, I’ll fight this time. ask for the doors to be opened.
go in. cast light on the monsters. the next day, choose one. just one. look at it closely. don’t look away. don’t be afraid to admit how much it hurt you. how much it took from you.
then leave. come back again when you’re ready. take the climb in small, rising steps. every time you choose to face it, even a little, you’re already moving forward.