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What happens when you go too far into the forest?
When I was in high school, we’d go to the nearby quarry to fetch wood. Sometimes we’d be fetching rocks instead—huge boulders for the infinite buildings we seemed to always be constructing. Or water, when the school water system would dry up in the dry season.
Sometimes, these trips would be part of what we simply called “works”. Other times, it would be punishment for all things ranging from speaking pidgin English to failing to obey a Senior Prefect and everything in-between.
It was a boarding school—the kids had to stay busy. Whether it was cutting grass, clearing the dormitory, or refectory — whatever kept the kids busy, right?
We often left the main campus in groups—friends would stick together. It was hard to come across anyone walking alone during these work trips.
Now that I think about it, I was hardly ever by myself for the 7 years I was in that school. Crazy how I somehow developed this whole introverted personality that relishes being alone after all these years.
But that’s not the point of this letter.
The trees were huge. All around us was nature. Bugs. Plants. Rocks. Wood. We’d thread through the path, go fetch rocks or wood or water and return with our group of friends. It was exhausting work. But what does a teenager know about exhausting work when he or she is hanging out with friends?
The thought crossed my mind today about what would happen if one day during one of these trips, a student went further than the chosen spot. If they decided to simply keep going to see how far they could go. if they cut off from their friend group, away from the eyes of any “Works Prefect” and just kept going farther and farther into the forest.
What would happen at that moment when they’d look back and see no one? What would they hear when all that came back were echoes of their own voices as the darkness covered any hope of being seen?
There is a forest beyond taking breaks from creative works.
All I see around me now is the darkness. My words come forcefully, my fingers shriek with each tap. The stories that come are full of nonsense and incomplete.
I find myself wondering how I was ever able to write anything—how there was a time when I’d observe the world and paint a full movie out of a random stranger’s smile.
It is this forest that urges me to write to you today because I remembered something else; a boring proverb that is very useful when you find yourself in trouble, especially trouble you made with your own hands.
“When you find yourself in a hole, the first step is to stop digging”
The forest is dangerous and unpredictable. But it is also full of life—plants, animals, nature. It can also happen to be an introvert’s dream: quiet.
But this is 2021. And like our hypothetical teenager, we have friends and family who await us on the other side of this forest.
But more importantly: we dug this hole. We took those steps. We kept going when we should have stopped.
I stayed without writing when I should have been writing. Essentially, I never walked to the forest. I simply stayed and let it grow.
This gets me thinking about other things we allow because we think the solution is movement. Or vice versa. Sometimes, the way to stop feeling stuck is to move.
Ah! That’s obvious, Kamga. How do you mean?
Well, consider this: when you wake up tired, do you hurry to get your blood pumping, hydrate, and thank God for your life? Or do you go back to bed?
When someone annoys you, do you stay still and let the emotion wash over, or do you act upon the welling spite, spewing venom, and lashing out?
The solution to most of our problems is often the most obvious one.
If you have forgotten how to write, then write. Don’t think about it, don’t read about it, don’t talk to someone about it. Just write.
If you want to be a better person, then be a better person. Don’t think about it. Don’t read about it. Just be.
Now, the solution is simple. But the execution may have many steps.
The key here, and the only thing I want you to take away is this: just focus on the next step.
This teenager lost in the forest would need to accept that she is lost. The next step isn't to panic. Or freak out. It would be to start tracing her steps back.
But before that even happens, the most immediate step is the one she had already done: to stop moving forward.