Gentle Reader, once again, I have decided to offer you my annual re-post. I re-post in order to remind myself of the power of ‘one step’ taken. ‘One step’ can, indeed, make all the difference.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark, my soul was darker still – darker than the dark night of the soul. I could not see my hand nor my future. I paused. I turned on the lamp that was on the table next to my bed. I looked at the alarm clock – 1:30am on 21 February, 1965.
I was in the second semester of my sophomore year at the university. I had just switched majors for the third time; it was a symbol of my wandering around in the darkness. I was beyond depression; I was numb.
During the winter months, one of the favorite ways for students to kill themselves at this university was to over-dress, walk to one end of the two lakes on campus (the one that always had a small part open due to the warm water being piped into it from the student laundry) and then to step into the water and allow the weight of the clothes to help drag you to the bottom.
I dressed slowly. I layered two pair of pants and covered these with a pair of sweat pants. I put on my heaviest winter boots. I covered my upper body in four layers of shirts and sweat shirts and topped it all off with my heavy winter coat, fur lined gloves and covered my head with a cap which was covered with a ski cap.
I slowly waddled my way down the steps; I opened the door. I paused. I stepped into the darkness. I had to walk around the first lake – the frozen lake – in order to reach the small opening at the end of the other lake.
On 21 February, 2010 I wrote a poem that captured what followed once I reached the opening in the lake. The poem follows. Following the poem is a photo of that lake.
Memory
I stood in the dark night of winter
peering into the water that seemed
so inviting. Like a polar bear, I
was covered in layers of warm clothing.
Like a polar bear I was there to take a swim
in the cold winter water. Unlike the polar
bear I was not there to seek nourishment but
relief.
The dark night of my own winter had
become unbearable and so I stood
contemplating one final step into the deep
that would provide relief. One step.
I pondered. . . I paused. . . One step.
In the wintery silence of my soul I heard a
whisper; a tiny voice struggled to be heard
amidst the noise of my silence.
I pondered. . . I paused. . . One step.
I listened. The whisper grew in intensity
and clarity. I listened. Why don’t you
go and talk with somebody?
I pondered. . . I paused. . . One step.
I listened. The question held a bit of
light in the form of a small hope.
I pondered. . . I paused. . . One step.
I turned, I took the One Step, not into
the water of relief but into the dark
that held out a small light of hope. –Richard W Smith, 21 February 2010
‘The Lake’ where I paused – then took that one step.
Searcher-Seeker 