Anyway, Henderson the Rain King is about a guy who suffers from a little voice that says, "I want, I want, I want...". Things affect him deeply and he is continually trying to satisfy the little voice, but instead of succeeding, his well-intentioned actions are continually frustrated, further complicating his life. His own identity is threatened, because this annoying little voice is tied directly to how he perceives himself and even how others see him. Because he is unable to satisfy the voice, he is unable to discover his own identity. His actions seem those of a madman.

Well, I don't know if that strikes a chord with any of you or even if I gave the book a fair description, but something about that character resonated within me. I didn't even realize it at first. So many things were flying around my head as last semester ended, all I remember seeing was a blur of pages, faces and places. My heart rate stayed above 160 for the first week back home, and all I could say to my parents was, "I have so much to do!"

From that early perspective, it seemed as if I did have a lot of work ahead of me. I had put off the permanent job/life search last semester because grades, my school job and organizing a student group demanded more immediate time and attention. Then the semester was over and I still had reading to do, letters to write, family to see, interviews to make, resumes to type, money to make, grades to salvage, a bulletin board to plan, et cetera and ad nausium. I was so geared up, both from the pressure of exams and all the things I hadn't done that I was scared to death that I wasn't going to make it. Truth is, I was right.

The little voice that had ridden me at school had followed me home. All it was saying was, "I want..., I want..., I want..." and yet I had no idea what it was that it wanted. I had interpreted the voice as a need to accomplish something grand, something fine, something successful . . ., something. I thought that my identity was irrevocably tied to my ability to accomplish. Then I read this book, and realized that I exhibited much of the same behavior and problems that Henderson typifies. Yuck, what a disagreeable character to find yourself sympathizing with! Yet there I was, discovering that my attempts to placate the little voice mirrored those of Henderson.

No matter what dream I chased or activity I engaged in while attempting to placate the little voice, nothing seemed to work. I was running ragged trying to find something that would make the voice stop. Unfortunately, not even all my efforts over break could end the ceaseless calling of the little voice. Even when I was caught up or ahead of myself in what I thought were things I needed to do, the voice continued. All of my searches for future jobs or possible careers were frought with questions like "Why?" and "What?" and "Where?". I didn't know where to begin, because the little voice was continuing. As was said in The Rain King, "Once more it was, Who are you? And I had to confess that I didn't know where to begin. (77)"

Finally, I used up even my fear-induced energy and lapsed into an exhausted period of inaction. It was here that I gave myself what I really wanted, what the little voice really wanted. When I was forced to use my time, free from activities and worries, stress and concerns, focusing on myself, I started to hear the little voice change. It didn't want achievements or money, good marks or congratulations. It wanted attention.

Here I had been so caught up with the decoration of my outer psyche that I had all but ignored the condition of my soul. I can't always control the things around me. Those that I can, I should attempt to change. But not at the expense of my inner peace. And not at the complete disregard of my human needs.

It's OK to be afraid. I know it, but often I forget to remember this. We think that we all have to be so proactive and in control of our lives that anything that happens must be our fault because we didn't do anything to stop it. This is silly and should be treated as such. Yeah, we all have a lot of stuff to do. And a lot of it may seem really important, especially little voices and such within ourselves. But when we don't take the time needed to hear the rest of the sentence, we end up with only "I want...". If we take the time, we might just find out, as I did, that the whole sentence goes, "I want..... some peace."

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