258. The Fog

I am surrounded by a thick fog. In every direction I look, the fog is impenetrable. I can see only what’s right in front of me, and even that is difficult to discern. When I recognize something and feel confident I know what it is and must be, it’s quickly swallowed by the fog again, and I’m left wondering where it went or if it even existed in the first place.

Everything I know and everything I have is continually slipping through my fingers and vanishing into the fog. It is in this condition that I know I must exist and live.

Once I had the feeling that the fog was clearing somewhere ahead, so I went there, I built a home, I made myself comfortable, and I began to devise plans for the future. Time passed in relative peace, but one day the fog started to roll in again. Even what I thought was clear and obvious was again plunged into doubt and uncertainty.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to follow the fog better. I can now see how it moves and changes, how it comes and goes. But still it regularly surprises me. Experience says the best thing is to stay still, not to make any sudden moves. This makes it less likely that I’ll encounter anything unknown or hostile.

I’ve settled into a defensive position, in the hope of protecting what little I have left. But this has also meant that I’ve stopped trusting. I’m haunted by an overwhelming cynicism about the world that feels impossible to overcome. I’ve been betrayed by the fog too many times to be capable of hope.

This life of quiet isolation is more peaceful, but it lacks movement, meaning, joy. I’d like nothing more than to feel joy again, but the fog keeps following me and it is relentless. There’s no way to escape, no way to get what I want and also remain safe from the dangers that lurk nearby.

Still, I try to understand the fog. I devote as much time as possible to studying it. I want to see if there might be a way to control it, or maybe even bring it to an end. The secrets of the fog are not easily uncovered. With attention and patience, I continue to look. But lately I have the growing suspicion that the source of the fog has been me all along.