Right Before the Dawn

What discussion about decisive moments would be complete without a something about coming back?

The Treasure of the Sierra Madres talks about what every mountain climber knows--that getting to the summit is only half the battle. And often the easier one. Then you've got to get back down.

But you haven't been psyching yourself up to get down for six months. You haven't pictured it since you were a child. You didn't know what it would be like once your wildest dreams had been fulfilled and life just kept on rolling. You made it! You made it. You made it. Now what?

There's a zen saying that's good sometimes: before enlightenment: carry water, chop wood; after enlightenment: carry water chop wood.

We're so geared for the fight, for the battle, conquest, challenge--what do we do once the peace is won? If we bring our ruthlessness home, we'll mess it up for sure. Not that we're going to be patsys, but still, we have to be prepared to enjoy ourselves and relax.

Maybe it has something to do with faith. If we don't believe we're going to get what we want, then we fight for it and do it almost to spite god, or society, or whoever. Then when we get it, we're suprised--and still steeled for the battle. And fear that we'll lose it. Sierra Madre is great about this. We magnetize for our fears. Think that was our one shot. Believe ourselves now rich and before poor. We think it's a one time shot--or an anomaly (sp?).

But if we believe. And in the bible it says it's promised. Seek and ye shall find. Period. Not if you're good, or in the top 10%, or worthy, but seek and ye shall find.

If we believe. Then maybe we're prepared for the denoument of the story as well. The descent. For the coming back with pockets bulging. The relaxed success. Living out our days happily. Coming down the mountain. Reintegrating into the tribe. --With what we know, of course, but re-integrating nonetheless.

Cause it's a whole thing--and your world changes in an instant. You work for years to get to the tipping point and it comes and whao nelly! The sucker tipped. Tipping means falling over, right? And that happens after the work, when you're most exhausted and maybe even when things are darkest.

Right before the dawn.

If we're really to believe that the spiritual realm (the irrational, the abstract, the creative, magic, whatever) rules the universe--and that all our Newtonian, rational, concrete, mechanical world is peacefully on top or within that larger truth (and it seems to be), then how do we learn what to expect while fighting/dancing our way out of the material realm? How can we possibly prepare?

I guess that's the beauty of it. The love. --you don't. We can't And to think you could is even folly. But we also can't not--because in our trying we become flexible and strong. We adapt. We learn. We keep going.

And somewhere along the way you just give up all together. On knowing/being in charge/meaninglessness/winning.

And all of a sudden you're capable of just about anything. You're strong AND flexible. Not only do you not care anymore, but you don't care so much that you've decided to care. Forever. No matter what it takes. Or what you have to learn. And then maybe there's nothing else to learn. Or not much anyway (after that it's gotta be pretty much small stuff, right?). Or you find that you don't have to be prepared because it's all right there. It's what you want. And as long as you don't care about losing anything in the material realm, what could get you anyway?

And wouldn't you then have access to the magic of the spiritual realm? The creative? But you couldn't go over thinking that. Or rather, thinking that would bring you back. Looking for the material gains.

But that doesn't mean that they won't be a significant byproduct. A lavish outpouring. And I'm not saying that that couldn't mess someone up too, but as long as you've been training with your eyes on the prize, what else can you do? (Besides get a wife more captivating than enlightened. Hook up with faithless business partners and get tired of directing them. Have groupies through themselves at you and be lonely a few nights--or months--in a row--and then have a couple critics trash you and your follow-up album tank.)

At least then you'll really know. Because if you're doing it all right--and avoiding all that nonsense--you'll be even stronger. And more humble.