The girl (or boy, as the case may be) couldn’t remember exactly when, but life became weary. It was a gradual development — so gradual she didn’t even notice the tears slipping from her eyes at first. But because of it, life became nebulous, and more difficult to navigate.

The sun — once bright — faded in the distance, even at noon. She walked through the fog, seeking peace, but up ahead were only the dark clouds of worry and trouble. At other times they weren’t visible at all, but still there; always there.

So she turned left and kept moving forward, searching for joy, but instead came upon an ocean, and the waves of sorrow swept upon her.

It began to rain and she sought shelter and strength, but found herself cold and alone.

She grew tired and settled in for the night, hoping for dreams filled with peace, but discord crept in. 

“I think I’m lost,” she said into the darkness.

“Never lost,” came a whispered voice — somehow familiar — from somewhere very near. “Only found. If you will listen.”

She’d never been one for riddles, and this one didn’t amuse her. It only left her confused. She needed to find real answers, not whispers in the dark.

She looked under stones and beneath the trees in the forest. She looked outward at the waves of the ocean. She looked upward to the skies. She even looked in books, but the answers weren’t forthcoming because she was looking for them in all the wrong places.

And so it went: day in, day out. 

Sometimes the sun peeked through the clouds, but shadows usually prevailed. The girl learned to adapt. She sought hope, joy and even love from her earthly surroundings. This wasn’t wrong, per se, but it wasn’t complete or foundational.

Life was pretty good. Or pretty not-so-good. It wavered, as life does. At times, joy came forth in the form of a smile or even a laugh. The fog came and went. 

People came and went. Sometimes she took the most important of them for granted. There were regrets in that. But this is often life in the physical world. 

Every once in awhile, she thought she heard that same voice whispering — or maybe it was shouting — through the fog. Either way, it didn’t quite shore up with the reality that had defined her life for so long. So she did her best to ignore it.

Then trouble descended in the form of lost love and life and she found that trouble, as troublesome as it is, opened her eyes in ways she never knew possible - before. It was then that the whispered voice grew louder — more fervent and disquieting — not so easy to ignore. 

Impossible, actually.

The girl found herself alone with the voice and she finally paused to speak to it.

“What do you want from me?” she asked. 

“For you to see the obvious,” the voice answered. “It’s right here.”

Another riddle, the girl thought. She was just about ready to shut the voice out for good. But then an idea came upon her. So she decided to ask.

“I’m looking for peace and joy and love,” she said. “Can you help me find them?”

“Take your pick,” the voice (Did it sound like her own?) whispered back. “They are all yours. All you have to do is ask.”

The girl was surprised by the response, but decided to play along. 

What harm could it do?

She tentatively mumbled, “Joy, are you there?”

From somewhere deep inside, a gentle, but welcoming, warmth overtook her entire being. Joy descended, along with peace and overwhelming sense of love. The girl was taken aback, surprised and in awe of her own capabilities.

“Is this real?” She asked.

“What took you so long?” The voice whispered back.

In that moment, the girl finally understood the true nature of all that she’d wanted and asked for had been inside her all along. 

When she finally embraced the power she held, she knew, she was finally home. Love and peace and joy enveloped her in a long-awaited embrace.

After that, the answers to her questions not only abounded. They flowed.

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears regularly in the Times. She can be reached at slicescolumn@gmail.com.