Awakening in the Desert
A Short Story by Michael Higbee
From the Wayfarer Archive, Autumn 2013
As he walked into the desert solitude, J.J. stumbled upon a gate that read “Property of the tribal nation of Native Americans”. The Native Peoples had a reputation for wanting to keep intruders, especially white men, off their land. Suicide by Trespass, he thought. That would be a new twist. He walked through the gate, not knowing just how different it would look after his journey within. He felt as though, spiritually, he was already dead, but he didn’t know why. He was hoping the desert could revive him and give him answers.
As he hiked about two miles into the reservation along the dirt road, a pickup approached him. The driver was a Native, about seventy years old. His wrinkled face and sun-damaged skin said less about the years of sun exposure and more about his wisdom.
“Are you lost?” the old man asked.
“Yes, but I don’t want to be found,” J.J. replied, suddenly feeling out of place and vulnerable. He wanted to sort things out himself.
The man gave him a long, deep look as if he were looking through him. “Son, you look lost in more ways than one.”
“You’ve just met me. How do you know this?”
“The eyes speak about what the voice cannot. The energy surrounding a lost soul can be felt from a distance.”
“You seem to know more about me than I know about myself.”
“I know about fear. When the monsoon comes and the desert threatens to fill with water, I fear for my life. You fear other things.”
“What does fear have to do with anything?”
After prolonged silence, the ol’man spoke. “It’s at the core of everything you do, everything you own, everything you have spent your life building, and everything you lost. Hop in. I have some friends who are full of wisdom and knowledge. I want you to meet them.”
“Sure you do! Are you sure you’re not taking me to the tribal police? I’m trespassing on your land after all. Besides I’m not one to just hop in the car with a stranger.”
“Son, you’re half my age. I should be more afraid of what you’ll do to me.”
J.J. had visions of being some sick sacrifice for the horrors that his ancestors inflicted on the People. Hesitantly he obliged and they were off, deeper into the reservation, cut off from the only civilization he understood. They drove through the vastness of the desert with the cacti and large red monoliths looking on. A monsoon was looming in the distance. Eventually, they arrived at the man’s home. It was a metal shack of about four hundred square feet. A hut made of branches sat a few yards away.
“Come on in. Don’t be afraid. You’re safer here than the jungle you inhabit in the big city every day. Have a seat.”
J.J. sat on the earthen floor. A small glimmer of sunlight shone through the doorway. He put his backpack aside and sat in front of a small statue in the center of the room. A bowl containing a flammable powder sat on the head of the statue. The ol’man lit the powder and started to brew a tea made from the peyote cactus. When it was finished he handed J.J. the tea and he sipped it down.
“I can see from looking at you that happiness has escaped. You, at one time, thought you had it, forever in your grasp. All the external circumstances in your life fell into place; new experiences came your way daily, material possessions became abundant and you became the person you had imagined. Now you walk through this desert hunched over like a man defeated. You can’t figure out why these possessions have not given you any internal peace.”
“I’m the owner of a business that I built myself. I thought that this in itself would bring me happiness,” J.J. replied.
“Built yourself? Is that so?”
“Without my guidance, my business would only be an idea. Nobody who works for me would have a job.”
“True, but without them would you not be lost? You couldn’t do all of their jobs yourself, could you? Yes, you may be the visionary, but they ensure that your ideas become reality.”
“I guess you could say we need each other.”
“This interconnectedness is what makes us human. Without it your spirit will suffer.”
“This medicine that you now drink is the key that will unlock the cage that is your mind. You will see my friends shortly. They have much wisdom to offer. Their names are Fear and Greed. Where one is found, the other will follow. Let’s go out to the hut and wait for them.” He grabbed the fire-lit statue and they walked over through the bright red sand at their feet.
As they sat down in the hut, J.J. began to feel the effects of the medicine. The redness of the sand became more intense. The man traced a half circle on the ground with a walking stick and began singing in his native language. Just as J.J. began to see shadows dancing around the walls of the hut, a snake slithered in.
“Hello J.J. My name is, Fear,” she said as her rattle shook. “You’ve been taught to be afraid of me your whole life but I’m not the enemy I’m made out to be.”
“I doubt that. When I feel fear, I have an antidote. It’s called valium. It erases my fear and calms my nerves. I feel better without fear.”
“As Fear, I am one of the great teachers. When you face me, I have great lessons to offer. If you run from me, I’m afraid I don’t have much to give.”
“What do I have to learn by facing you?”
“What is your greatest fear?” the snake asked.
After several minutes of silence, J.J. responded. “I’m afraid of poverty.” He was immediately transported back twenty-five years ago. He was ten years old standing with his mother at the bus stop. They were heading to the social services building to pick up food stamps. There were all the rich kids playing baseball in the street, their parents Mercedes in the driveway. Why can’t I be like them.
“Your compulsion to hide behind your possessions is a symptom of your fear. We, out here in the desert, have all that is necessary. We just need to survive and exist. We are, without question, happier than your civilization. You came here wondering why, with all your success, you still feel apathy. You thought a life of abundance would cure your fear of poverty and now that you know this fear will never become a reality, what else worries you?”
“I still feel like I’m missing something, though I can’t put my finger on it,” J.J. replied.
“Do you fear failure?” the snake asked.
“I don’t.”
“So your fear of poverty has motivated you to become wealthy. You don’t fear failure, but you learn from it. So I, Fear, have taught you something but, I’m afraid I was only a catalyst to what really ails you. Your unhappiness comes from my cousin, Greed. He has more for you to learn.”
Just as she started to slither out J.J. heard the rumble of thunder. The monsoon was coming closer. “Are you worried about poverty now? Or will you be happy to survive the coming storm and continue to simply exist? Your things couldn’t protect you from it or provide any comfort.” She left the safety of the dwelling and went into the impending chaos, blending in with the desert.
What would it be like to burn everything I own? How different would I feel without it? That would be one way to face this fear.
“I would like you to meet another friend of mine. His name is Greed,” the ol’ man said. In came a mountain lion.
With yellow eyes, he spoke to J.J. “I’m Greed, Fears’ cousin. I’ve been given my name by your people. You see me as greedy because I hunt my prey and devour every last bit of it. If there happen to be any remains, I bury them and will soon be back to finish. What you don’t see is that it’s essential to my survival. It’s a product of my patient stalking and persistence. I fail many times before I succeed. I only hunt what’s necessary, nothing more. You call me Greed, but the truth is I’m not greedy.”
“But greed can be good. Without greed there would be no motivation to create. Without creation humanity would stand still. I created a business to sell a product that makes peoples’ lives better. In the process, I created jobs. My desire for money is what motivated me.”
“Fear, not desire, has motivated you. Fear has introduced us, though subtly. Greed is a delicate balance. In moderation, it motivates us to move forward, just like fear. In excess, it destroys everything in its path. Balance is a law of nature. This vast desert is an example. If she gets rain in small doses she, in her wisdom, knows what to do with it. Her cacti know how to store it, her mountains know where to carry it. In excess, she drowns in it. Her personality is dry and she doesn’t wish to become the Amazon. She’s happy as she is. Your materials are causing you to drown. Greed has you by the neck with its teeth sunk deeply into your flesh.” The lion hissed as he finished speaking.
“What’s wrong with enjoying the fruits of my labor?” J.J. began to feel like he was being sucked into the ground. The medicine was causing him to feel that the words he spoke were not his.
“At what cost has this come?” the lion asked.
He was afraid to answer. Truth can be the knife that gets driven straight through the soul. “My um……my family. I lost them. I just…I lost them.” He felt sick and began vomiting as if trying to purge these thoughts through some physical medium. He was so conditioned to accept that things equaled happiness. His fear which turned to greed had caused him to lose the most important thing of all. He missed his wife and son. He hadn’t seen them much in the last few years though they still lived under one roof. “So what do I do? Sell all my belongings and become a purist? Live off the land?” he asked.
“That’s for you to figure out. My desire is to make you aware. Awareness is only the first step. Just remember Greed is about balance,” Greed replied. He turned and walked out into the wild. Just as he did the rain turned to hail, the wind began to blow fiercely and the sky turned to black.
The man began to speak. “No matter how much power, prestige or money you have, it can all be taken away from you in an instant.” The thunder crashed above. “You have no control over all this. Happiness is a state of mind. We, out here, have happiness though we lack abundance. You, on the other hand, have little happiness though you have much abundance. Now leave this hut and go out into the chaos that awaits you. This storm will teach you to be happy to exist, for when you’re in its midst you’ll realize that none of your possessions can ensure your survival. Only then will you understand the wisdom that you were taught today. Take this with you back to your world.”
“But if I go out there, I will fear death,” J.J. replied.
“That’s the only way to learn to live. You will instinctively, in this moment, realize what’s important in life. Now go out and face your mortality. The storms’ name is Death. Listen to what he has to teach you.”
J.J. slipped out of the hut hesitantly into the storm. His old way of thinking would not go away overnight, but it would fade, eventually. My mind is my most valuable possession, he thought to himself. He was only in his mid-thirties and had the rest of his life to act on this revelation. He was reminded of how happy he was to simply exist every time the lightning lit the sky and the thunder crashed above him. With the hail pounding him he felt fearful, yet alive. He thought about running back for shelter but Fear had taught him not to. Face your fear and learn from it. Greed had taught him about moderation. He arrived at the gate that he walked through just hours earlier. He was about to return to the world he understood, though with new eyes.
Mike Higbee practices medicine as a physician assistant in Phoenix, Arizona. Most of his ideas and inspiration come from hiking in the solitude of the desert. He would love the opportunity to hear your thoughts so feel free to email him at ny2phx@hotmail.com.