Journey of a Thousand Steps – Step One: I Leave Home a Fool

I was born on a date of no particular concern and in a town of no great reputation. My name, Constable Mue, was given to me as a hope that I would be a peacemaker, I did that name no justice in my youth. My mother and father, who were quite adamant on instructing my siblings and I in all things of morality and decency, had failed when it came to me. Despite discipline of every kind, from the talk to the spanking, I rejected my parents guidance that they so much wanted to impute to me.

One day; for I remember it well, I addressed my parents as they sat in the dining room. My father was reading a book of popular demand, and my mother had taken interest in her habitual taste of knitting. It almost pained me to regurgitate my mental process; and once I did, the reaction that came was not expected by me nor my parents as well.

My father threw his reading across the room, nearly hitting me. My mother burst into tears, dropping her knitting. I was indeed the example of the proverb: a foolish son is a heaviness to his mother. Immediately my father took me by the shoulders. There was a struggle until he pinned me to the wall. The look in his eyes held wrath, yet sorrow for what I was attempting. However, knowing my age of maturity, and the firmness of my endeavor, he knew no words would deter me.

“Thou art a fool.” stated my father, ” You have neglected the knowledge of you mother and I; indulged in youthful lust, and now you dare to go out into the world a young fool?”

As my father spoke, my mother wailed uncontrollable, which did not help my cause, yet was not enough to soften my stony heart. Releasing me, my father consoled my mother. Before the day had past, I gathered what inheritance was due to me; gathered my belongings, and took on this journey that seemed to me more important than anything in the world.

Once in the streets of town, every vain pleasure to the flesh was presented to me, I knew them before, being warned not to, but most of those pleasures were familiar to me; and, forgive the description, I took on women, drink, and foul games, to which many could not contest to. This, of course, left me with little money, and after buying a meal, I was penniless. Another man, more humble; more wise, would have swallowed his pride and returned home-not I. Pride, self-will, and foolishness addled in my heart. Giving my father the benefit of seeing me draw home for aid would not be an option. There I stood in the street as the sky grew dark, no place to sleep (I had my parents, but I refused to returned as previous stated), and with the night, just as flies to honey, came the shady characters of the dark.

I could not conceive of such people and will not linger on with each type; for all were hideous and wretched; and in a sense, I was among family. None bothered me, by the grace of God; and once the new day was born, I was in need of the necessities. Even still my heart was cold to humility. I begged for money; receiving cursing, spitting and the frequent turn of apathy. I continued to look for help, and my eyes caught sight of a man, or should I say he caught sight of me. There was no need of words for he knew my type. He slowly made his way over, as a cat makes his way over to a unsuspecting mouse, and introduced himself. It is here where my second step begins.

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