Internal Hero

He had his preconceptions about what it meant to be a hero. Even when he set out to become one, he knew that it wasn't as easy as showing up and scaring away the criminals. There was always the theme of transcendence. Becoming more than another man or woman on the street, trying to be the best they could. Becoming a true icon, a vessel for the hopes and dreams of others. And it was a challenge he was very afraid to face. Because he had always been told that he was worth less than the average person, that he was ugly and stupid. But within him lingered a spark. That warm feeling which burst in his chest when he knew he was witnessing something memorable, a once in a lifetime thing. And it wanted him to try.

This seemingly unimportant feeling wanted him to let go of the fear and let go of what others told him was reality and find his own path to becoming the greatest he could be. The inspiration to others and the vessel for the hopes and dreams of the hopeless and the desperate. It wanted him to believe what a small dedicated group of people were telling him. That he was worthwhile, charming and yes, even beautiful. That he had only to follow the positives in his life and land on the waiting hands of dozens of adoring fans and friends and family.

This was his crossroads. He just had to make a choice. Not the choice he could never come back from and not the choice that would define him as a person for the rest of his life. But at the same time it was exactly that choice. He stood at a point where his heart and his head were ready to negotiate and willing to listen to his wishes. But in his heart of hearts, the choice had already been made.

His hands moved to his pockets to check for his belongings and they were all there. Then they moved for his chest, and everything was still there. Finally, he let them slip to his side and he looked outside the window. The warm glow of the sun kissing his skin tenderly while his pet cat looked at him with loving eyes. And then he knew. The past had been a lie of people who saw the spark within him and tried to drown it with envy and loathing. And his future was packed full of great adventures and loving people willing to go on this path with him and share in the hard work and love which he would go through and find. The only question left was when the first step would find firm footing. Though it was answered by a swift and decisive “It doesn't matter”.

For all that had been his suffering and sadness and fear, would simply translate into sympathy, happiness and caution. Ready to help him on his way. His heart felt lighter and his head wished for one last conversation. To throw in some final objections as if to represent some of the lingering feelings solidified into a block. It wanted to stop him, but at the same time, it knew the battle had already been lost. The heart would get its shot, because the fulfillment of a heart’s desire was far greater than the fulfillment of any intellectual pursuit.

So the stubborn intellect finally yielded and instead gave its support, to see this task completed.
Who he was melted away and who he was to become, stood in a glorious light, hidden only by the fog of an open future with endless possibility.

The next morning, he awoke with a smile as big as the one he had when he first conquered one of his fears. It was his heart telling him everything would be okay, backed up by the hushed encouragements of a cautious intellect, still unconvinced of impending success. His friends told him he looked different in a good way and people on the street didn't stare at him, but instead smiled occasionally when they noticed him.

Had the world suddenly changed without warning? Or had the people in it just become insane for some reason? He had no idea. But what he knew and felt was that this was a good thing. Not even the harsh cold wind threw him off –though it did make him shiver- from his new found enjoyment.
It was almost as if some core truth had finally revealed itself through all those layers of hurt he’d been stacking up and holding on to like a life raft. Because for all these years, the hurt had become safe and familiar. He simply didn't need it anymore. He was ready to shake it off and remember it fondly as the source of a lesson well learned.

Only when he got back home and looked in the mirror in the bathroom as he passed it, did he notice a content smile resting on his own face and he smiled even wider then. The man in the mirror was finally the man he had hoped to see this entire time and all questions became nothing but the soft resting feather on his shoulder. An invitation to explore and learn.

So he took it. He went up to his room one final time. Took a deep breath and looked over the sites he frequented. His e-mail and art websites looked as they always did and so did the job websites he had visited over the past years. And he began to realize that they were not a reflection of his options, nor of his capabilities or his worth. They were mere images and fleeting interactions through which only one thing could be gained. Fear.

He smiled at first, then burst out laughing as he saw with a truth long awaiting him through the dark clouds which had loomed over him, the folly of his initial belief in this being the single path in front of him. Then he just closed the websites, looked around his room and looked at the door, knowing that out there he would find what he needed. And he was willing to work hard to make the image of his contented self, last. After all, his hero had just woken up from a long rest behind drawn curtains and he was going to become his best.