Thwump!!!
The arrow missed the bullseye, hitting far to the right.
“You’re off your A-game today.”
After commenting on his friend’s errant shot, the man in the black shirt pulled back his arrow and let it fly.
Thwump!!! It hit the bullseye dead-on.
The other man, Rick Rodgers, closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He then looked over at his his friend and said, “Nicely done, Father.”
“I have God on my side.”
“Don’t play the priest card on me, Bill.”
The priest smiled and began his questioning.
“You’ve been quiet today. Are you in the middle of a storm?”
It was a beautiful day at the archery range. Birds sang beautifully and warm sunshine bathed them in God’s glory. Spring had arrived early. But Rick was oblivious to it all. He was in a storm — what he called it when he was crippled by depression. Rick didn’t answer his friend. But Father Bill knew. Most people were fooled by Rick’s facade. But not his best friend. A best friend he had known since the 2nd grade.
“How long?”
“About four days. It’s deeper and more painful this time. Think my seawall has been breached.”
Rick called his support system his “seawall.” It involved his family, diet and exercise. Most of the time, it worked and held back the storm. But when life threw too much at him, the seawall would crumble. Life had hit him in the crotch yet again. And now, it was all he could do to get out of bed.
“It’s like trying to drive with your parking brake on.”
Rick closed his eyes, took a breath and tried to see the target in his mind. He exhaled slowly and took a second breath. And then he released his arrow. This time it landed to the left.
“What the hell the matter with me?” Rick cursed, not really expecting an answer.
Father Bill pulled back his arrow and once again, hit the bullseye.
“You’re not helping me Bill.”
“Nothing is wrong with you. You’ve been knocked on your butt again. It’s perfectly natural to feel low. A personal question — and since I’m your priest I can ask you this and it will stay between us — are you on medication?”
Rick jumped a little. He had been taught that medication was sign that he had failed. He felt embarrassed to talk about it. But he knew that it had helped him in the past.
“No. But I was on a low dose for about a year after the sickness to cure my anxiety. It was OK. It smoothed out the low points, but unfortunately, did the high points, too. I quit cold turkey. And that was stupid. I should have tapered. Quitting crack cold turkey would have been easier.”
“Well that was dumb,” the father chided him.
“I had that dream again,” Rick said, changing the subject quickly, as he prepared to shoot another arrow. “You know, the one where my family lands on an airport runway in a car and is nearly hit by a landing plane. Then we can’t figure out how to get off the runway.”
“You know what that means don’t you?” Father Bill said as he watched his friend prepare to shoot.
“Yeah, I’m nuttier than a peanut butter factory.” Rick shot and once again missed the bullseye.
“No, it means you are worried about your family’s future.You’re worried about money. Being underemployed and not knowing if you will have to move but not knowing when and where. It’s harder now that you have two kids to worry about?”
“And my wife.”
“And your wife.”
Father Bill shot and yet again hit the bullseye.
“You have to have faith, Rick.”
Rick shot a look over to his friend. “Easy for you to say. God pays your salary. I have faith, but keep praying for a sign. Nothing. Moses had it easy. At least he had a burning bush.”
Father Bill smiled and said, “Life isn’t easy. And sometimes it seems like you’ve failed. But you’re not failing. You just have a different plan ahead of you.”
“Well, I wish it would reveal itself. This is tearing us apart.”
“How’s work?”
“The same. I’m trying to forgive, but keep having new things everyday to forgive. Forgiveness is hard. Losing my dream is hard. ”
Father Bill smiled and said, “Learning to forgive is mandatory. You’ll burst into flames again if you don’t start practicing it. Being pissed off — I can say that can’t I? — robs you of your energy. And your dream? Get a new dream.”
“Thanks Oprah.”
Rick shot again and the arrow hit the top of the target.
“DAMMIT!”
“Watch your mouth boy! A man of the cloth is standing next to you.” Father Bill half-scolded his friend. “Focus. What will it take to blow your storm clouds away?”
Rick pulled another arrow back and closed his eyes. He thought about all that had gone wrong over the past few years. He thought about all the unfairness and pain. His story was just like millions of other Americans who had suffered during the Great Recession. He took in a deep breath and then just let it go. Not the arrow, the pain. He sat there, with his arrow drawn back and began to focus on the good things in life. His survival all those years ago. His talent. His being alive. Rick took a second deep breath.
The arrow sailed, it’s path straight and true.
Thwump!!!!
Bullseye!
Father Bill smiled. Rick stood there, satisfied with his achievement as his friend began to talk.
“My sister once gave me a puzzle. You had to turn all the knobs a certain way before the puzzle would slide out of its holder. You could work on it all day long if you constantly tried to move forward. But one day, I figured out that you had to take a step backwards occasionally. Life is much like that my depressed friend. The path to success isn’t a straight line. And honestly, the real success is the journey on the path.”
And then Father Bill shot yet another bullseye.
“Nice job, Robin Hood.”
“I prefer Friar Tuck. Just remember to have a little faith, my friend.”
Rick looked around. The storm clouds began to part. He saw the sunlight streaming down from the clouds. He heard the birds singing and was thankful — Thankful that he finally hit a bullseye and for his straight-shooting friend.
