“Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now
in the waves and wars. Add this to the total –
bring the trial on!” (Homer, Odyssey, 5.244-48)
I wake to the sound of Odysseus’ words ringing in my ears. Arise! March on! There is more labour to come and there is nothing to be done but to take the load upon one’s back. A job to get to, a book to write, a house to clean, children to raise – bring the trial on!
The journey always has its perils. Instead of a vast and perilous wine-dark sea we have bad drivers, endless traffic, red-light runners and roadwork monsters. Once we enter our workplace, quiet and dark like a cave, it is as if we are about to be swallowed up by a giant of some kind, for we know not when we might escape, or whether we will ever escape at all. It looks innocent enough, but the challenges are lurking, like Scylla and Charybdis and the clashing rocks.
Some days are like Circe herself: outwardly charming to begin with but with a hidden intent to bring out our beastly side. The trick is to follow the god’s advice and stay immune. Some days are like Calypso: we lose ourselves in her sweet deceptions and when we return to look at the clock, we find, to our horror, that we have just lost ten years in what seemed like minutes. Some days are like a journey to the Underworld: a virtually impossible test of bravery, strength and endurance, punctuated by an unexpected phonecall from our mother.
Then there are the Sirens: self-doubts, worries and old wounds from the past that haunt us and seek to distract us from the task ahead. We must fill our ears with wax and row with all our might.
And of course our colleagues: well-meaning and brave companions who are committed to accompanying us until journey’s end but not always the best at following instructions. For instructions equivalent to “do not open this bag” and “do not eat this cattle” can be seen in virtually every workplace fridge and they are hardly every followed.
Battling with the ‘gods’ takes all our strength and forbearance. Do not anger Poseidon or you will be tossed upon the stormy sea like worthless driftwood; beware Zeus and his thunderbolt that screams “You’re fired!”; pay heed to Athena the wise, grey-eyed goddess with her quiet perceptiveness and good humour.
Now, it’s 5pm. Expect to feel a little washed up and washed out, as if you had just been stripped bare and spat out by the sea and left upon a rocky beach. The palace of Ithaca is in sight but, you can’t go home yet for there are problems. Big problems. Last-minute tasks, lined up like eager suitors, are determined to stop you from getting home. Calm and cunning is required. Disguise yourself like a beggar, trust hardly anyone at all, and plan carefully. Your final effort to push through these obstacles must be calm, considered and merciless.
At the door of your home, there is one final test for the day, this time with loved ones. You have been through a great deal, but you must prove yourself to those who know and love you best. The routine questions “how are you?” and “how was your day?” are really not that different from those that passed between Odysseus and Penelope: “are you still the person I fell in love with?” and “do you remember what we have built together?”. The answer is, and must be, emphatically: Yes! Home at last.
Header Image: Red-figured stamnos (jar) showing Odysseus and the Sirens