The Search & The Ache
A thick curtain of overgrown ivy stands green and dense as it hides something from me. I pull on my gloves and try to pull the curtains back, only to find layer after layer of tangled up vines and leaves. I begin frantically pulling, desperately trying to rip the ivy away to see what hides behind it, but all I find are more leaves, more vines. My breath gets shorter and my arms grow weak as I continue trying to find what’s hidden from me. I begin to ask myself, “do I know there’s really something behind these curtains? If it’s something that I’ve never seen, how can I believe I’ll find anything at all? Is whatever lies behind the curtain, if anything, worth all this pain, struggle, and effort?”
Doubt pollutes my mind. Thoughts of giving up begin to entangle my brain much like the ivy entangles everything within its reach. My frantic searching through the ivy becomes a rhythm. It feels like second nature. How long have I been searching? Has it been minutes, days, years?
The doubt that once only creeped into my mind now cripples me. Doubt is all I know. It’s a familiar friend, though the way it eats away at me is more an act of an enemy.
I find myself settling for the constant search through the ivy. There must not be an end to the layers of green. There must not be anything hidden behind. The curtains of overgrown ivy must be all there is, and my purpose in life must be to continue living the way I have, since there’s nothing better hidden from me.
Yet there must be something behind the ivy. Why do I feel so empty and dissatisfied if this continous searching and doubting is my only purpose in life? Why do I feel this longing, yearning, burning for something more, something deeper, something bigger, something better? There must be something behind the ivy.
What is it that lies behind the ivy? What is it that I’m longing for?
I long for purpose. I long for love, real love. I long for joy, peace, answers, clarity. I long for justice and for freedom. I long for truth.
What is truth? Where do I find it? How do I define it?
In a world that is full of myths and misconceptions, how do I discern when something is real and true? How do I know when I’m lying to myself or faking myself out?
Is truth subjective? Is there even such a thing as truth?
These questions add to the doubt that cripples me. What is the point of it all? There is so much uncertainty but, though my pondering and constant digression of thought often bring more questions, they also bring clarity on something once uncertain.
There is something behind the curtain of ivy. There is something more, something deeper. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t have this longing inside of me. I am searching because, deep down, I know the things I long for are out there. I’m searching for the truth because my soul is left unsatisfied by the lies. I’m searching for joy because there is joy to be found. I am searching for authentic love because the fake, surface-level, betraying love of the world is not what I was designed for. I’m searching for freedom because I was made to be free.
We experience this strong sense of longing because we were designed for something more. Our souls ache for what they were made for. The ache drives us to search, and the search often takes us directions that disappoint with dead-end streets. Our hearts break when we think we’ve found love, purpose, freedom, or truth only to discover it wasn’t the real thing. After we break, we feel empty. We doubt. But then we are overcome with longing once again. And we ache. We ache because there is something behind the curtain of ivy.
There is something breathtakingly beautiful and unimaginably fulfilling behind the curtain of ivy. There is something behind the curtain of ivy that is so glorious and real and wonderful that, when we finally encounter it, it will make everything we’ve experienced up until that point seem like a distant dream. Upon encountering what lies behind the curtain of ivy, we will understand what is real and true all at once. The myths and misconceptions of the world will disappear as our souls are finally satisfied with truth. The ache will be gone, and we will dance with joy in peace for eternity.
We were made for more. We were made for more than the constant search. We were made for what lies behind the dense vines and green leaves. We were made for discovery.
But until that glorious discovery comes, we ache. We search. We break. We doubt. We ache again.
Embrace the search and embrace the ache, because we know that the searching and aching proves that there is something deeper, bigger, better. Don’t lose sight of that truth. Keep searching, keep aching.
There is something behind the curtain of ivy.