It waits where you won’t look.

What you seek waits where you won’t look.

A veil of darkness had descended on a crumbling Camelot. The kingdom grew restless as King Arthur and his court gathered at the roundtable. Without warning, the Holy Grail – the object that would restore Camelot – blinked into existence, hovered at eye level for just a moment, and then vanished.

Miffed, the knights’ tongues were tied. Until Sir Gawain loosed his lips and proposed that king and crew “go forth in quest to behold the Grail unveiled.” As the others slowly collected the wits that, just moments ago, had dropped with their jaws, a collective courage welled within them. On a quest, they agreed to go. But where to start?

After a quick huddle, they knew. Each knight must enter the nearby forest at the point that appeared darkest to them. Where they least wanted to look is where they must go if they were to find the Grail that would restore them and their world. The terms were set.

And as such terms were set for King Arthur, so too are they similarly set for us. We, too, must go into the dark forest – the places where resistance to our entry is strongest – if we are to find the Grail that will restore us. The Grail that will make us whole.

But it’s hard. Because the forest is dark and its woods are haunted. Not only by the ghosts of our past reminding us of our inadequacies, but also by the ghouls of what we’ve not yet done casting shadows of doubt. The forest branches bellow “abandon hope, all ye who enter” and the willows whisper “turn back before you make a fool of yourself,” as fear bullies our soul into submission. Every nerve and sinew trembles at the thought of entering.

Yet if, when we feel the wave of fear’s repellant beat us back, we can, instead call up the courage to step into the places that fear has branded as off limits, we expand. If we can have that hard conversation long overdue, let go of that thing we’ve allowed to linger too long, or step into a new passion knowing we’ll look like a fool at first, we become more. In the language of the myth, we find the Grail. With each exploration of darkened territory, we rescue pieces of our potential and clip them into place, our being slowly moving outward into what we might be.

And each time we do the things we think we cannot, we re-introduce our soul to itself. Done enough, we find that we restore the world by restoring ourselves.

So to you, my uncrowned kings and queens. My unnamed knights. The forest is calling. I’ll tell it we’re on our way.