Life of Luxury

I have chosen this picture because while it is difficult to decipher, it is representative of my current situation. If you look closely, you'll see a profile of a leopard in the face of a mountain. I'm assuming the peaks our furry friend is superimposed on depict mount Kilimanjaro. The grassy plains sweltering in the African heat below the leopard and the mountain are possibly Tanzania. For my purposes though, the mountain is Jordan, the plains are Nebraska and the leopard is an attainment not yet reached. What the picture is lacking is a man in the shade, dying in a hammock, which would represent me.

I'm stealing Hemingway's The Snows of Kilimanjaro. In this short story, one of my favorites, a writer safaris in Africa with his wealthy wife. He contracts gangrene from a mere thorn prick and slowly withers away, anguishing in the sun and lamenting over the mistakes he has made throughout his now shortened life. The bulk of his regret comes from his lack of writing, or action of any kind, because he has been lulled into a life of complacency and luxury. What used to matter to him were his experiences among those living on the edge of life, the poor, the artists and adventurers, people interesting enough to write about, not the dull upper crust he is surrounded by. When he passes, his death is not a graceful exit. His wound is wreaking and devouring his leg and much of his body. His end is gruesome and lonely in the harsh climate of the plains, dramatically back grounded by the awesome beauty of the towering peaks. As if heaven rises above him while he is eaten alive in hell.

There is one other death detailed that the author uses as a comparison. The story begins with the image of a leopard frozen in the snow of the mountain, climbing to the top for purposes we know not. Some argue this leopard represents Hemingway's pessimism, his attitude that if you look up for better things you will get shot down. But I disagree. While the leopard has been stopped in his pursuit of grandeur, he has been perfectly preserved in the lofty peaks above the writer's horrible demise. I believe what Hemingway is trying to convey is that pursing a difficult path filled with challenge and hardship is better than an easy path in which one becomes boring.

It's not hard to read the symbolism for my life. In Nebraska, lounging in a large house, with a TV in every room, a fridge filled with food and all the amenities I could ask, I have become unproductive, uninteresting and longing for life. So even though I am scared to face the challenges of living in a foreign country, I know the rewards will far outweigh the comforts I will be sacrificing. And really the locations, such as Jordan and Nebraska, need not be so specific, though they fit aptly for my present circumstances. It could be a metaphor for my unforeseen future, accepting a well-paying job in a US city with a good man to share my time and giving up my dreams of traveling, experiencing and growing. I try to remind myself of this whenever I feel queasy at the thought of my fast-approaching voyage and new life.