First, a story:
The Abyss
Many years ago, there was a man who lived in a village.
One evening, after a long day of work, he ventured out of the village into the forest, unsure of what he was looking for.
Every night, he continued this. Each time going farther and farther. Until one night, he came out of the forest and onto a stretch of rock. He hurried forward stumbling across the uneven surface of the stone, until he came to a sharp ledge.
He stopped, stood up, and found himself overlooking an immense, vacuous space–miles and miles of unknown darkness. He looked out into the vast Abyss and saw visions of what could be out there, what could be achieved, what could be discovered within its depths.
He ran back to the village, told everyone he knew, and begged his friends to come with him to see it.
They wouldn’t come. They didn’t believe he had even found such a thing. He asked others. None would come.
He tried to forget the Abyss. He tried to go on with his simple life–work, food, friends–but it felt empty now too. He had lost his simple life forever.
Then one evening approximately one year after his first discovery, he returned to the Abyss, and stared out into the vast darkness. And as he stared out into it, the Abyss stared back at him. The emptiness, the loneliness, filled his mind, “I will always be alone. They will never understand.”
He began to climb down into the Abyss, and the Abyss consumed him. No one ever heard from him again.
Perhaps this Adventurer discovered wondrous treasures after journeying down into the Abyss. Maybe one day we’ll re-discover what he found. As much as I want to believe that this Adventurer learned and discovered much, in all likelihood, he probably took a fall in the darkness, fractured his leg and shattered his ribs, and was left stranded and awaiting death. Either way, there are no stories to be told of him, so he is dead in our memories, other than as an example of someone that ventured off only to be consumed by nothingness.
Perhaps there is no meaning behind this story. But, in recent years, I’ve found meaning in it.
I’ve tried a lot of things, some of which could certainly be viewed as stupid. I’d ask myself, “What the hell am I doing this for?” But I had my reasons, and I knew the only way I’d learn was to carry on. Additionally, I often found it hard to understand why people were satisfied with just coasting through life. I could see very clearly why it was a good route, but nonetheless, I couldn’t really understand. And several times, because of these conditions (me trying unordinary things, and not “getting” the usual life), I found myself feeling very alone.
Some people are compelled to venture off into the strange wild lands through the dark forest. To some, it’s a gift and a superior way to live one’s life. To others, it’s a disease. I think a more even view is that it’s a role.
Eventually, these people will encounter the Abyss. The problem is, much like the story, they let the Abyss stare back into them and consume them. No one around them understands. They cut themselves off. They convince themselves that no one understands. And they go on living lonely, miserable lives. And the story of the Abyss plays out.
People need differentiation, particularly the ambitious and creative (the Creatives). Consequently the idea of playing a role can be very discomforting. But, this must be reconciled for the Creatives, we all need integration and connections to others. The Abyss is vast, and there is an infinite amount of unknown for everyone to look separately on, and therefore plenty of room for differentiation.
So I would propose a different ending to the story of the Abyss:
He returned to the Abyss, and stared out into the vast darkness. The Abyss stared back at him. The emptiness began to fill his mind, and just before the Abyss was about to consume him, in an instinctual flash, he looked to his left. And in the distance, he could see the faint outline of someone else, gazing out into the immense unknown.
-Kevin
9.18.2011
