Deus Ex Machina.

I remember precisely when Saturn returned to me. It happened for me like it happened for many other people. Some call it the “Quarter-Life Crisis,” or the “Pre-Thirty Jitters.” In actuality, it’s just a time period of doubt and fear for many individuals when they make that final transition from youth to adulthood. It’s a time when familiar aspects of life come to an end, and it’s generally followed by a period of new beginnings.

It’s an unpleasant feeling, making such a drastic and absolute change. Often, I became quite introverted and withdrawn, even from the people I loved. Depression is common, and it’s usually expected. Where am I in life? Where do I fit in the grand scheme of things? It’s the most basic search in life, and the most warranted. What is my ultimate purpose and where are my efforts leading me?

My ideal role model falls somewhere between George Bailey and Ferris Bueller. I always admired the small town hero who put his life’s ambitions on hold, and I indulged the thought of that great man coexisting in the same package with the cool kid with no public fear or inhibitions. I looked at classic social archetypes like that and longed to be included among them, but it wouldn’t happen.

I wanted to accomplish lofty goals and be many things in life – mostly before I turned thirty. And they didn’t seem too far out of my reach unless starting a family and settling into an enjoyable career are considered mutually unattainable. For most of my twenties anyway, life seemed to be pretty much on track. After graduating from college with a degree in design and new media, I had married the love of my life for better or for worse, and together we bought a new car – the second biggest purchase a young couple makes. At times it was a struggle, but we made it work and things stabilized.

However, the more things stayed the same, the less they changed. It’s all pretty simple. Life became idle. Laura and I were still very much in love, and for our recent efforts we were finally having a child. The quaint little house would remain a dream for a while longer, the job that I voluntarily shackled myself to would keep me shackled for a few more years, and my failure to further my education meant that we’d have to get by with whatever came our way whether it was along our desired career path or not. I hadn’t experienced a period of emptiness like this since I was a year out of high school, a full twelve years earlier.

Twelve years. I never did achieve those dreams. I never reached my goals. Perhaps that was the point. Dreams and goals are not something to attain, rather they’re just pie-in-the-sky “wants,” and the real goal is the pursuit of the impossible. Life isn’t supposed to be some Capra-meets-Hughes work of fiction. It just is what it is.

“Impossible?” asked one of the Cha’doe. “Impossible is what you make of things. Sure, in life you doubted much, and for that reason much seemed impossible.”

“What do you think now?” another one asked.

I suddenly flashed back to where I was. For a moment I felt removed from this whole scenario, maybe because I didn’t want to witness it. However, by witnessing all of this, I knew… “I don’t know what or what isn’t impossible anymore. I feel resigned to it all. In fact, I would say I’m game for anything.”

“We believe you are,” they replied in unison. And quicker than a blink of an eye, they vanished. I once again found myself alone and remembering what had happened.

The Cha’doe had just finished their shared monologue. During the conversation, I lost sight of them. I looked, but they were gone. Another bizarre disappearance by more unusual people I’ve met. In a weird way, I kind of expected that. This is becoming mundane. Perhaps I wasn’t as resigned to events as I had led myself to believe. Maybe I’m not game for anything after all. After considerable thinking and processing of the situation, I returned to my foregone conclusion. This is some crazy trip, or a twisted dream. This isn’t real – none of this is; it can’t be! There is no explanation for any of this. I’ve accepted too much of these insane visions to actually think they’re real. I’m still in this place, alone, but it can’t be real. It’s getting hotter. That light I’m seeing, it’s...it’s turning to flames, a fiery white-hot wall of my approaching demise. This fear and hyperventilation is all in my head. I must be wrong because none of this makes any sense! I won’t let it make sense! IT CAN’T BE! I REFUSE IT!

“I knew you would. I was waiting for that.” My eyes deceive me. I see the negative – blue skin and green hair, but she felt like...home. A wash of comfort and solace came over me, and my fears of my own experience melted away. This place cooled, as did I. There was an air about her that instantly soothed my frayed mind. “Come with me. You know you want to, and you know I’ll take you home. I’ll give you all the knowledge you need to make it, and I will not allow you to be afraid.” I believed her like I would believe the words of my own mother. “Let’s go, sweetheart. You’re almost there.” And just like that, I take hold of my rescuer and allow myself to be pulled away, into the ether with her.

THE END

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