No
one ever noticed this guy at the tavern, not until that is; when he asked for
something to drink did the other people at the bar notice him. This person
seemed to have come out of nowhere. But in this tavern they were used to seeing this guy, as they
so fondly named Hermit Sorrow. One
day they asked him who he was he replied, “I am no one, everyone, and I am
even a part of you”. They
inquired the whereabouts that he lived and they remember him telling them a
place as they recalled as being as far away from any civilized part of the human
culture as possible with out being totally cut off from it. And thus he also exclaimed “I try to live in peace with
myself but there is this great sorrow in my heart”.
It was after learning this information the men at the tavern gave him the
name of Hermit Sorrow.
The
next month when the hermit came back to the tavern he looked a little thinner
then last time and a little more homely. The
people at the bar were a little concerned for this guy and thought they should
ask him what had happened to account for this change in him.
The hermits reply were these words “ Upon several days from my return
after meeting you folk a month ago did I go out about my ordinary business of
hunting and gathering some food for myself and I came upon a trap I had set and
there was a dead rabbit with its head in a noose it was then that a realization
came upon me. My grief thickens
like molasses in a cold winter night when I kill such a creature. And the realization was this, that by not killing a creature
such as this or any of its kin could I slowly open that cloud of sorrow that
looms over me and set my mind free to enjoy the divine, even if only a part of
what I have lost. So therefore I
have stopped eating the creatures that roam the forest and now I am only eating
what berries, roots and plants I can find.
And I feel a bit better each morning for not to have killed a part of me,
which I learned, the creatures were. We
all spring from the same source you and I and anything else in the natural
world, it is only we tend to separate ourselves from this truth everyday of our
lives”. And to this the people at
the bar were very amazed. How a
person could think and live in such a manner was unfathomable to them.
He had finished getting the supplies he had come to town for so the walk home began. The place he called home was the only place he could be totally relaxed and free from himself. Upon his arrival he is greeted to the peacefulness of his life. But as usual this arrivals peacefulness is half shrouded by the forever mourning, which grips his heart and clouds his senses. He has forgotten so much already why he could not forget this sorrow was unknown to him. He had forgotten what he was called, Jim or Bob or Dave could be his name he didn’t know, but he knew the story that he tried to keep buried, of the grief that he carried. This was etched into his brain which made is heart break every time it was recalled, and made his eyes swell up in preparation for weeping the minute it was over.
The hermit did not know how he got here or where he had come from. He did know however he had been here a long time. And he knew this because one day while getting water from a little lake and stream out in the woods he peered into the waters surface and it reflected his image. He now knew that it has been sometime since this tragedy had entered his life. For when it happened he had tight tanned skin and a head full of dark blonde hair and his eyes seemed to twinkle with energy and youthfulness. Now his appearance is much different. He cannot look long for it is worse on him. Now his hair is gray his skin is wrinkled and weathered and his eyes have lost that twinkle in them and was replaced, a long time ago, with a gloss that seems impenetrable.
Again the routine of the day sat in for the hermit. But now not needing to set traps and go on the long journey to see if anything were in them he had time to himself. He used this time meditating and contemplating The One from which he had sprung. Then by doing this he discovered the little hunger that the berries and roots could not cure simply washed away with the happiness, which comes from the wonder of the mother that created the indefinite things. He found he had the best time doing this near dusk. The tree he sat under in the middle of an open field provided the best view of his world to open his mind and reflect the magnificence of nature.
So beginning in the morning when the sun enters this world with all the glory of a god rising for the protection of the whole world the lonely and humble hermit goes out to his table for his morning meal, which consists of a glass of water, some berries, gathered the night before, and a few slices of bread. Then he goes for his morning walk. On this walk he collects some plants he knows he’ll need and he searches for some roots that could be eaten, and more berries for the next morning. He speaks with the birds chirping happily along; and he can hear the other creatures scurry away at his approach hopefully soon they won’t though.
Always during dusk you will find our dear friend the hermit sitting by the only tree in an open field. Now it will not look as though much is happening but to the hermit he is communicating with himself, and also with the great unknown. On this occasion though he was speaking with himself and memories were being awaken that he thought were forever gone. These memories began with those of early childhood, when he was a boy he remembers wistfully looking out of a window wishing he could go jump on the pile of leaves just made or play on the pile of snow just cleared from the driveway. These were the most joyful years of his life he thought, I always had so much fun and most importantly no responsibilities he recalled to himself. And a brief while longer those years had come and gone and the ages in between then and now were about to unfold. When suddenly the thought of what was to come, which must have been too much for the old hermit to go through, he jumped up and bolted. To where he was running he didn’t know and slowly he came to a stop by the forests edge and fell down on one knee. And then as quickly as the thoughts had resurfaced they faded back into where they came from forgotten and buried. The hermit slowly rose and was terribly shaken so he decided it would be a good time to get some sleep.
The next morning the memory of what happened last night while meditating was completely gone. And so the routine of the day continued. Living in total simpleness he had no cares. No cares, that is until the story of his grief would soon be recalled again. And knowing what he knows he would have to relive this grief once more so that perhaps then he could come to terms with the experience and be freed from it.
Dusk then came that night and our dear hermit was sitting by his tree in the field quiet and still. First the memories of his childhood came up again. These made him very happy. Then his early adulthood memories came up. These too made him happy for it was this time in his life he meet her. His only and most precious love in the world was the center of his universe. She was beautiful in his eyes, tight tanned skin as his was back then, long blonde hair that shinned like gold when the sun was upon it, blue eyes that sparkled with life, kindness, and love that the old hermit remembered starring into for hours on end. They loved each other so much it felt like they made a single person, and when the were separated for only a few hours it felt as though each one was only half a person. The times they spent together were the best times this old hermit could remember. And it was here, that the hermit now lived, that they would come to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. This tree he now sat under to meditate was where they would lie and stare at the stars wrapped in each other’s arms. They would swim in the lake behind the cabin in the woods. He remembers watching her swimming and having so much fun, and he sees her getting out of the lake water dripping off every which way and she, purposely and playfully shakes the excess water onto him and he would tackle her down to the ground and they would laugh so hard together. As all lovers do when they know they have meet the right person they got married, in a small church outside the city. And for a while they were the most happy they had ever been in their entire lives. Suddenly though the hermit rolled over onto his side and started to weep. He continued weeping he could not stop for he knew what was to come, and he simply could not go through it. So he decided not to go any further tonight with these memories and instead retired for the night.
Awaking at the usual time the next day nothing could be remembered from the night before. He was so used to letting things go that those memories were not on his mind most of the time but only the here and now was. As he went on with his day and normal activities and as dusk came some memories from last night came flooding back to him. He knew of the impending gloom that was to come tonight as he went further with the memories of his life. So as he had done since he stopped killing the creatures of the forest the old hermit sat down beneath his tree when dusk came. Like before the earlier memories came to him first followed by those of his dearly beloved. But soon the painful ones would cloud his mind. This he could remember was the most horrific and tragic thing that has ever happened to him. As quickly as he had fallen in love with his wife and eternal companion was she taken from him. One day in the city he was working at his normal time, she had the day off and decided to go out and have some fun. Well he doesn’t know the exact details of what she had planned to do but apparently after dusk she robbed and brutally killed by some hoodlum. He still remembers the call he received from the police to come down and identify the body. The memory of her lying there was burned into his brain. He couldn’t believe his eyes, his heart seemed to just burst with something no one, unless they have been through it, could understand. During the funeral all he did was sob in his chair never looking up, and every one trying to comfort the poor man. Shortly after the old hermit couldn’t go to his job it just wasn’t in him, he couldn’t do anything. Sometimes he would just not do anything for days on end. And not being able to do anything he could not pay any bills. So not being able to do anything and never being able to forget the pain in his heart he moved to this cabin in the woods and has been here ever since.