The Forest Within Us

Once upon a time, an old man told me about a wood that stretched at the bottom of a deep canyon. In this wood he said, obscurity is king and the sun rays shiver when they come close to the dark green foliage of the chasm. Between the trees lie a silence so deep that toads silence their croaking during the dark hours of the night, and birds go hide in the hollow trunk of the dead, giant vegetation. The old man, who’s wrinkles reminded me of bark, warned me that any soul that possess enough temerity to enter the forest will not leave, as the spaces between the trees lead inevitably into a deeper circle, like a spiral leading to the middle of the earth, where the nucleus is lava in fusion. He explained to me how he got lost in what he called “hell”, and how he found his way back to tell us this frightening story.

The old man was attracted by the forest since the first circle of tree, he said, carried an intoxicating perfume of leaves bathed in the sun, and a soft wind kept dragging him towards the center. In this circle, the sky was almost completely hidden by white doves showing him the way in the blue infinite, encouraging him to keep walking to discover a greater place waiting for him. But the grass was so soft, and caught the sun rays so well on tiny drops of dew that he fell asleep in the odorant vegetal bed.

When he woke up, he realised temperature had dropped, and the dew was now uncomfortably wet and cold. He was a lot further than before he fell asleep, and now couldn’t see the edge of the forest, so he kept walking in one direction which he thought to be the good one to get out, as a little fear in his stomach started to grow. He walked a long time, but couldn’t find his way back, as the sun was starting to hide behind the trees; now the disappearing star was his enemy. In his frustration, and because the cold of the night started to reach his trembling heart, he grabbed a branch and pulled aggressively on it, making the tree bleed a dark red liquid which stained forever his hand, and part of his face.

Now he really wanted to get back home, but was completely lost. Suddenly, he saw a deer staring at him with his enflamed, shiny eyes, the rest of his body hidden by the darkness. Taking the branch he had just ripped, he lift it up high in the air, ready to knock out the animal, but stopped his motion as the deer started talking to him. The deer said: “Good man, have some mercy on me. See, I am just as worthy of living as you; I can speak, and fear just like you. My heart bleeds, and tears flow from my eyes; why would I deserve to die tonight?” The old man replied: "Deer, I hear your complaint, but refuse to listen to it, as my stomach speaks louder than your heart can bleed.” And just like that, he killed the animal by throwing his stick, and a cracking sound resonated through the trees.

Trying to reach the animal, each step seemed to aggravate the distance between him and the dead animal, like in a surreal dream. He walked so much that the day rose, and ravens started to eat his precious diner. He looked at the birds, and they were happy to calm their hunger; he looked at the deer, and saw his soul slowly rising through the air, welcomed by a rightful god who had a place just for him in his kingdom. Finally, the old man saw a bat coming back from his night adventure to rest in his nest, and he envied the wings that would have saved him from this place in which he was well lost, a place he had already baptised: “hell”.

He continued walking, always approaching to the center of this cursed forest, and suddenly saw the tree trunks change into bodies, and the roundness and curves he found in the hard, lukewarm wood made him forget about the deer, the crows, the perfume, the bat and the bleeding tree. When the human-like tree started to move slowly, he stepped back in shock, but the skin-like bark started, right in his sight, to darken and become friable, like dust, and the center of the tree liquefied, a dark and thick liquid pouring by holes. Desire turned quickly into disgust, that the old man felt as if his own internal organs were liquefying into a crumbly mud. Incapable of speaking or moving, the day changed into night as he stared at the rising stars, powerless.

At this moment, it seemed to him that his end was approaching, and the flock of dark birds hovering over his head against the midnight sky carried a mournful presage. Then, like a lightning of hope in the dark infinity, he saw an enormous chestnut tree, its black leaves dancing in the obscurity. The ripped fruits started falling on the ground, rolling on the trunk and on the crooked root until they immobilized at the old man’s feet. He began picking them up and hiding them in his shirt and his pants from the avid birds, while eating some at the same time. They tasted heavenly, but he could never get enough of them. His hunger was insatiable and the more he ate, the more desperately hungry he became. “You are a fool”, said one particularly big crow. “Here is the special place for those who don’t understand that their hungry soul demands a more special kind of food”, he continued. With a croaking that resembled a laughter, he flew away.

The old man suddenly stopped talking. "How did you get out of this terrifying forest?” I asked. "I simply saw a road peaking in the distance, he said, I saw you walking and thought I’d tell you all the exploits that are mine, and how I came back alive from my torments. There is now nothing I fear, as not other man or god succeeded what I did, and by that I mean that I got out of hell.” And just as he said those last words with an insane laughter, his eyes shining like water in the sun, a flame ignited from within him, and the fire of his pride consumed him right in front of my eyes. This man should have known, I thought, that hell was neither a place or time, hell is everywhere, just as it is within us. Another much wiser man once told me there is no forest darker and quieter at night than our cold hearts when the light of the sun leaves us, along with our sanity.