I see people around me all day and I think I understand them because we are sharing this same experience. We have this hardship in common, this isolation, this danger, this lonliness, a longing for friends and family half a world a way. Because our paths have intersected at this austere place at this particular time, I think I have an understanding of those around me. We wear the same uniform. We come from the same country. We are here for the same reason. I know you don't I?
We lost a soldier Sunday night to, what was possibly, a self-inflicted gunshot wound. We received the news in the early hours of Monday morning and we waited in numbness and shock for the details to filter in.
It's the details that we crave because it's what we use to paint the picture, it's how we try to find the answers. We start at the end of his journey and work our way back drawing in the details to the map that brought him here as best we can, but we only share the route so far, there are never enough details. I need a better map.
While I know the path that brought me to this place, it's pitfalls and tortuous hills, I also know that I am the only person who has taken that exact route here. Why then do I insist on measuring his journey to this place by the standard of my path? Why then, if I know this, do I judge his strength and stamina, his skill and endurance, by a simple comparison to my own? I need a better map.
I need to know the hills that he climbed that brought him to the place we met. I need to know if the rivers that he had to cross sapped his strength, or if it was just a pitfall that he encountered while on the path alone that night. The map needs more details, a higher resolution.
I know the details that I seek will give me the answers. I need a higher resolution to draw the map to the scale I need. It will have be 1:1, a life-size map, in 3 dimensions and a passage through time. I will have to carry his body armor and ruck-sack up the same grades, and over the same obstacles. I will have to know which parts he walked alone through and where he was carried or I will be tempted to just fill in the blank spots from the map of my own journey. I need a better map.
I need a map of his soul. I need to know what he believed in and from what sources he drew his strength. I need to know if his character was flawed or perhaps his spirit broken by brute force and ignorance. If I have this map maybe I won't shoulder the responsibility or lay the blame at someone else's feet. With this resolution maybe I won't draw from the generalities of my own narrow path, a generic reason which I can wrap around this horror then tuck it away. Yes, I need a better map
Maybe the map I need though isn't of his soul, but of mine. I will never be able to live his life for him, but I can chart the course of mine. I can choose the star to guide me, and use the maps of others before me to plot my course. I can draw from the experience of my journey so far, including the path we shared, to help me through the perils ahead. Even then though, the map might not be enough, I will probably still need help.
I'll need somone to walk with me. Someone to carry the light when it gets too dark or take some of the burden when it gets too heavy. Thankfully, I already have that. Pam has shined more light on my path and carried more of my burden than I can ever express in words. She needs to know. I need to tell her more, show her more; more detail, higher resolution. I hope I can draw her a better map.
We lost a soldier Sunday night to, what was possibly, a self-inflicted gunshot wound. We received the news in the early hours of Monday morning and we waited in numbness and shock for the details to filter in.
It's the details that we crave because it's what we use to paint the picture, it's how we try to find the answers. We start at the end of his journey and work our way back drawing in the details to the map that brought him here as best we can, but we only share the route so far, there are never enough details. I need a better map.
While I know the path that brought me to this place, it's pitfalls and tortuous hills, I also know that I am the only person who has taken that exact route here. Why then do I insist on measuring his journey to this place by the standard of my path? Why then, if I know this, do I judge his strength and stamina, his skill and endurance, by a simple comparison to my own? I need a better map.
I need to know the hills that he climbed that brought him to the place we met. I need to know if the rivers that he had to cross sapped his strength, or if it was just a pitfall that he encountered while on the path alone that night. The map needs more details, a higher resolution.
I know the details that I seek will give me the answers. I need a higher resolution to draw the map to the scale I need. It will have be 1:1, a life-size map, in 3 dimensions and a passage through time. I will have to carry his body armor and ruck-sack up the same grades, and over the same obstacles. I will have to know which parts he walked alone through and where he was carried or I will be tempted to just fill in the blank spots from the map of my own journey. I need a better map.
I need a map of his soul. I need to know what he believed in and from what sources he drew his strength. I need to know if his character was flawed or perhaps his spirit broken by brute force and ignorance. If I have this map maybe I won't shoulder the responsibility or lay the blame at someone else's feet. With this resolution maybe I won't draw from the generalities of my own narrow path, a generic reason which I can wrap around this horror then tuck it away. Yes, I need a better map
Maybe the map I need though isn't of his soul, but of mine. I will never be able to live his life for him, but I can chart the course of mine. I can choose the star to guide me, and use the maps of others before me to plot my course. I can draw from the experience of my journey so far, including the path we shared, to help me through the perils ahead. Even then though, the map might not be enough, I will probably still need help.
I'll need somone to walk with me. Someone to carry the light when it gets too dark or take some of the burden when it gets too heavy. Thankfully, I already have that. Pam has shined more light on my path and carried more of my burden than I can ever express in words. She needs to know. I need to tell her more, show her more; more detail, higher resolution. I hope I can draw her a better map.
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