Being well is a bloody mirage. You think you’re getting there, and then you taste the dust lining your mouth instead of the promised cool water and you lose a little bit more hope. And then you go chasing after the next mirage.
These mirages that we chase lie at the end of dangerous paths, with myriad varieties of venomous snakes hiding along them. Some people are stung by them all, and others proceed unscathed. The hope is that the cool waters of the desired true oasis are enough to make up for the pain of the journey.
Sometimes it’s even more cruel. A tiny spring in the desert, masquerading as an oasis. Joyfully gulped at, then petering out. And once again the search is on.
Some people find the oasis, and they are become well with a steady stream of the cool water of relief. Others discover that the best they can find is a trickle in the wilderness, but it’s better than nothing at all. And then there are others who are doomed to walk the barren wastes, never finding a path to wellness.
I hope I’m not one of them.