The Searchers

I started to write this a few years ago, when the strains and pressures of a former job and lifestyle were fresh in my mind. Thankfully this is no longer the case for me. My blood pressure is down and the ulcers are gone. I now face a new adversary, very much different yet in a way born of the same cloth, that I engage in battle.

But that is a story for another day.

I have wanted to go back to my childhood home for years. To take a day off from work and just wander around all the old places, backstreets, etc., that I used to roam, whether by bicycle or car. I had the opportunity to do so a few weeks ago but decided against it. I turn 50 in six weeks. I’m still too young to wallow in the past and search for the ghosts of youth.

Not yet. I’m still sailing on the ocean of life. Still searching.

*****

Martin Sloan, age 36, vice-president in charge of media.

Successful in most things but not in the one effort that all men try at some time in their lives.

Trying to go home again.

And also like all men, perhaps there will be an occasion, maybe a summer night sometime, when he’ll look up from what he’s doing and listen to the distant music of a calliope and hear the voices and the laughter of the people and the places of his past.

And perhaps across his mind there will flit a little errant wish that a man might not have to become old. Never outgrow the parks and the merry-go-rounds of his youth.

And he’ll smile then too because he’ll know it is just an errant wish, some wisp of memory, not too important really.

Some laughing ghosts that cross a man’s mind.

That are a part of the twilight zone.

Walking Distance, The Twilight Zone (1959)

*****

Some people do not have to search. They find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not take it seriously. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them. Seldom do they understand me.

I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

― James Kavanaugh, There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves (1970)

There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who prey upon them with IBM eyes
And sell their hearts and guts for martinis at noon.
There are men too gentle for a savage world
Who dream instead of snow and children and Halloween
And wonder if the leaves will change their color soon.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who anoint them for burial with greedy claws
And murder them for a merchant’s profit and gain.
There are men too gentle for a corporate world
Who dream instead of candied apples and ferris wheels
And pause to hear the distant whistle of a train.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who devour them with eager appetite and search
For other men to prey upon and suck their childhood dry.
There are men too gentle for an accountant’s world
Who dream instead of Easter eggs and fragrant grass
And search for beauty in the mystery of the sky.

There are men too gentle to live among wolves
Who toss them like a lost and wounded dove.
Such gentle men are lonely in a merchant’s world,
Unless they have a gentle one to love.

(source)

2 thoughts on “The Searchers

  1. From one searcher, to another…thank you for sharing these words. I’m still searching for my niche, I still want to love and be loved….this post really resonated with the longings of my heart. Hope you have a wonderful birthday Jeff, in the coming weeks! Be blessed!

    Amanda

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We are all searching, to some degree. I don’t believe anyone is ever truly content, although they may appear that way. “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

    Liked by 1 person

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