This morning, in the quiet solitude of dawn, a revelation unfurled itself within the recesses of my mind—a revelation both disquieting and illuminating. I have lived my life much like a storyteller, weaving tales of a youthful existence brimming with high adventure and resplendent success, only to find myself now, at this juncture, contemplating the remnants of those days with a sense of wistful nostalgia.
There is a peculiar solitude in possessing a wealth of experiences that seem too extraordinary for the common ear. My tales, vivid and rich with detail, are often dismissed as mere fabrications, the fantastical musings of an overactive imagination. It is a lonely fate to bear stories that elicit skepticism rather than admiration, leaving me to ponder whether the true value of a story lies not in its telling, but in its living.
In this reflective state, I am inexorably drawn to the poignant narrative of Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. Santiago, the indomitable fisherman, embodies a spirit of relentless perseverance and quiet dignity, battling the formidable marlin and the unyielding forces of nature. His triumph, though marred by the relentless gnawing of sharks, stands as a testament to the enduring human spirit. Santiago’s struggle mirrors my own—a solitary endeavor to bring forth the essence of my life’s journey, only to see it nibbled away by the disbelief of others.
As I traverse this introspective path, the mythic visage of Poseidon looms large in my thoughts. Poseidon, the tempestuous deity of the sea, often depicted with a visage as fierce and enigmatic as a dragon, symbolizes the unpredictable and often treacherous nature of life’s journey. There is a certain solace to be found in myth—a space where the extraordinary is not only accepted but revered. It is within these ancient narratives that I seek refuge, a realm where my stories might find kindred spirits and validation.
I wonder, is there a myth—a legend of old—that might serve as my confidant? A narrative in which I can immerse my experiences, allowing them to be reborn and understood within a context that embraces the fantastical and the improbable? Perhaps it is in the stories of Hermes, the trickster and messenger of the gods, that I might find resonance. Hermes, with his cunning and eloquence, navigated the realms of gods and mortals alike, weaving tales that bridged the divine and the mundane.
In the quiet moments of the early morning, I find myself yearning for a mythic framework to house my stories—an ancient vessel that might carry the weight of my adventures across the vast ocean of human experience. It is in these moments of introspection that I understand the true power of storytelling lies not only in the telling but in the belief of the listener. Until then, I shall continue to chronicle my journey, ever hopeful that one day, my tales will be met with the reverence and wonder they deserve.
July 13, 2024
When you brought up Poseidon my mind immediately went to Odysseus whose travels seem too fantastic to be true, and yet we’ve found possible “real world” analogues for things he encountered. Whale songs may have been the inspiration for Siren songs, and there is a dangerous whirlpool in the Strait of Messina that could be the source of Charybdis. Odysseus was cursed by Poseidon for blinding Polyphemus, whose vision was already narrow.
Experience has also taught me that people really do live amazing lives. There are more things in Heaven and Earth, after all. Hamlet was mostly landlocked but he outwitted a couple of assassins while on a ship.
When you brought up Poseidon my mind immediately went to Odysseus whose travels seem too fantastic to be true, and yet we’ve found possible “real world” analogues for things he encountered.
I appreciate you referencing Odysseus—his odyssey is a compelling mix of myth and potential historical events. The idea that whale songs could have inspired the Siren songs is particularly intriguing, and the whirlpool in the Strait of Messina certainly makes the legend of Charybdis feel more plausible. Odysseus’s curse from Poseidon, following the blinding of Polyphemus, highlights the intricate interplay between divine retribution and human actions. It’s fascinating how these ancient stories continue to captivate us, weaving together elements of myth and the real world in ways that still resonate deeply today.
Experience has also taught me that people really do live amazing lives.
I completely agree with you—people truly do live amazing lives. Personally, I have had some remarkable experiences, most of which were associated with my fire department career. However, my experiences are often dismissed by others. This skepticism usually stems from misconceptions about the realities of firefighting, gender biases (I’m also a lesbian), and the sheer incredulity of the intense and varied situations I’ve experienced. Throughout my career, I took some significant risks, going to extremes, and sometimes pushing the boundaries of safety to save lives and property. Now that I’m retired, my life has settled down and is not nearly as exciting as it once was, but the memories and lessons from those incredible experiences stay with me.
This is one of the most interesting and intelligent comments I’ve ever had on my blog, and I thank you so very much for posting this! ❤️