High on Happiness

Posts Tagged ‘challenge’

They knew what they were in for.  The little crocuses learned about earth weather long before they took on form.

But that of course was mere theory.   And this snow was very real.

They wrapped their petals tight, giggling.  Little shivers of delight over their good fortune ran all the way down their stems.

Not every crocus got to face the snow.  The challenge, they knew, was immense.   They would have to hold fast to their vision and mission, to deny every dark shred of doubt.

No one thought it would be easy or that success was guaranteed.  But the adventure was its own reward.  And they would fly their hope flags to the end.

.

There they stand, nonchalant as can be, right on the shimmering edge of spillway, fa-la-laing in the cold air.

“But they have wings,” you say, as if that explained their ease.

“And you don’t?” I challenge.  “What are wings but a way to rise above things?  You can do that with no more than a change of mind.”  I snap my fingers and laugh.

The geese laugh, too.  The rushing waters race across their feet as bright as Christmas.  What is there to fear?

September slipped quietly in the door, bringing rain.  Under its cover, she gazed about at the canvas before her and sized up the work ahead.

The scene that August had left behind was glowing, a true masterpiece with treasures tucked in every corner.   She let her eyes rove over it slowly, savoring the forms and textures and depth.   Every bit of it held exquisite works, art within art within art.   August had set the bar high.

Yet look!  How beautifully she prepared the way for the transformation September was charged to create, with the tiny dabs of yellow and red tucked among the green leaves, and some of them already fallen and floating on the lake.  It was perfect.

The task ahead of her was a challenge.  It would use every ounce of her passion.  And that was exactly what she loved most.

She opened her pallet and took out her brushes and paints.  Then, with a grand and eager smile, she turned off the rain, rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a brush and began.

When they were advertising for the place, they never said it would be easy, or cheap, or fair.  Thrills?  Extremes?  Oh yes; you could expect plenty of those.  And experiences to test the metal of the hardiest.

It was all an experiment, you see.  Nothing quite like it had ever been tried before.

The body suit you’d wear was fashioned completely from the elements of the place.  And while it was remarkably serviceable, it was far from perfect.  It was subject to damage for one thing.  And because the place was located in the time stream, it deteriorated as well.  So the length of your stay would depend entirely on how well your body suit held up.

The body suit’s processing apparatus had a lot of potential; but it could receive external data only from five senses that were limited in the range of vibrations they could perceive.  That was one of the major challenges.

But the bigger one was that your memories would disappear the moment you slipped into the body suit.  Your only connection to your actual identity was lodged in its heart, but so far, returning adventurers reported that its signals were eclipsed by those coming from outside the suit and difficult to access and interpret.  You had to get special training once you were there from those who had learned to listen.

All those factors created, it seemed from the evidence to date, one heck of an emotional stew for the adventurers.  They told of experiencing amazing things like anger, and frustration, hopelessness, fear and despair.  And yet, to the last, they all said it was a small price to pay for the beauty they had seen, the kindness and camaraderie they had experienced, the thrill of overcoming obstacles, of stumbling into hope and discovering faith.

“You could forget entirely who you are and be caught up in the complex problems of the challenge,” one of them recently reported, “when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you’d get a whisper of truth, a whiff of goodness, or some sliver of beauty would appear.

“It was the most incredible thing,” he said.  “Regardless of how much pain or suffering you thought you were experiencing, when you needed it the most, you would look out and discover grace in the hardest places.”

Imagine you lived in a magical world where winged princesses feasted on flowers and crystalline globes rode emerald grass to catch the hues of the sunrise.

Imagine that you woke each day to the trill of silvery notes and glad pipings, and when you opened your eyes, gossamer banners floated above you in translucent shades of saffron and rose, lavender and turquoise blue.

Imagine that after you breakfasted on the eggs of birds or the pressed grains of the fields, you would don your robes and step boldly into the day’s adventures, never knowing what awaits.  Grand challenges would greet you, testing your strength and will.  With valor and humor you would wield your decisions, doing and undoing, creating, solving, serving, trading goods and time as if you possessed an unending store.

Imagine that everywhere you went music wrapped around you and colors danced into your eyes.  And behind each door was an opportunity with your name on it.  And people came, and children, and animals of every description, each one with a lesson to give and to take, and emotions tagged every encounter to show you the way.

Imagine the evenings came gently, and the day foam of your energy melted away into clear and flowing peace.  And the night sounds were a symphony honoring a star-glittered sky and everything whispered yes to you and love.

Imagine you could live in such a world for the choosing of it.  Would you?  Will you?  Do you?