A Guide

Frustratingly, however, I could see the big cat lurking above me every time I tried to turn back upward.  What this meant, I’m sure, was that, in my illness, I was encountering many more obstacles than I realized.

My recovery, blocked at every upward turn, would not be easy, nor would it be swift.  The dark beast drove me further and further back down the mountain, and it looked as though I might hit bottom again.

But just as I was about to reach that point of abject depression again, in my dream I happened upon a man who looked like an avid hiker.  He was definitely athletic, and even though he and I were both near the bottom with almost no sun hitting us, he seemed, well, sunny.  Some people have dark auras, others light.  This gentleman projected a great deal of light energy.  A real yang type.

Smiling, he said to me, “Hey, what’s up?  You don’t look too good.”

I tried to smile at him back, but what can I say?  I wasn’t ‘good’.

“I’m not well,” I said, “you’re right.  I’ve been having a hard couple of years wandering around this valley, and just recently, when I’ve determined that I’m going to get over this prolonged illness, I made good progress up this hill here, but was finally driven back down by this big, black cat-like creature.”

I wasn’t expecting it, but he laughed.  “Oh, that guy,” he said.  “He’s all meow and no bite.  A pussycat really.  He looks mean, and I suppose he could be if he wanted to, but if he senses you’re a good person, he’ll let you get by.”

This man’s observation about the black cat gave me pause.  To say I was skeptical would be quite true.  I’d seen the cat, and it was scary.

He sensed my questioning what he’d said.  “Hey, I’m serious.  I’ve hiked this mountain a million times, and I’ve fed and petted him often.  We’re good friends.  Come, let me guide you back up.  I’ll introduce the two of you.

I have to say that the idea of having this strapping guy lead me out of the valley and into the sunshine appealed greatly to me.  And even though I was tired, I said, “Please, if you can help me out of here, I’d be most obliged.”

“Come on,” he said, gesturing me to follow.  “We can do this together.”

And so that’s how I began my second attempt at climbing out of the darkness into the sunshine.

“What’s your name?” I asked, following behind him.

“Gabe,” he answered.

This was heartening.  I knew a Gabe.  He and I had gone to University High School together.  A year older than I, he’d married one of my classmates.  They were both surfing enthusiasts and artists who designed surfboards.

He and I had ended up in the same drawing class at U.H. Mānoa.  Once he told me that he had to admit his wife, my classmate, was a better surfboard shaper than he was. And he said it with great affection for her.

Gabe, he’s a good man.

Now I felt that fate had somehow bought this hiker Gabe and I together.  Now the climb seemed easier. There’s nothing like having someone who knows what he’s doing giving you a helping hand.