Some days everything is clear, you wake up knowing exactly what path you want to take and what purpose you want to fulfil. Other days, you are so lost that you can’t even remember the moment you took the wrong turn. I often wonder if this is what everyone experiences, or if it is just a tired, traumatised brain that is trying its best to transition from survival mode to thriving mode. I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t really matter, because this is where I find myself and so I need to follow the path that is set out for me, not for others.
Some days, I wish I could just compartmentalise my feelings and fears, so that I can continue full steam ahead with everything that I want to get done in order to find myself one step closer to my ambitions. But most days, I’m too frightened to even admit to myself that I’m a dreamer, with big ideas, grand intentions and diverse desires. When you are constantly battling with yourself around how to write your own story, you start muddying the line between being the writer and the character in your book of life.
The writer, has choices and a general idea of what the book is intending to achieve. They are dedicated, resilient, patient and creative. The character, is reacting to what the writer has imposed upon her. She is not able to rewrite the story, only to act it out as best as she can, so that it is fully realised as it was intended to be.
I often find myself being the character and this is why I’m now exhausted because I’ve not liked the story that has been written and that I’ve been acting out. I didn’t realise that I can take the pen and start writing a narrative that creates space for me as I am. As the writer, I can design the story around what would be a celebration of my character, instead of a story that my character needs to play out.
Day by day, I sway between the writer and the character. On the days that the pen is in my hand, I find clarity. On the day that I’m the character, I try to find the clues as to what is coming next. Oh life and its mysteries. I wish I was more linear in my thinking, I feel that would have made so many things much more easier. Here is a poem dedicated to anyone who is lost, found, confused, clear and everything in between.
Lost and found:
I do not know where this road leads me,
Nor do I know what ahead seeks me,
I cannot find the answers,
Trying to drown out all the disasters,
I cannot pretend that I am as stable as a rooted tree,
When the wind blows, I dance with fragrant leaves,
I try to stand tall and reach for the stars,
But I don’t like the heights from up above.
I don’t know what to do,
Where to go, or even who to be,
Perhaps this state is not unique to me.
I cannot ponder about the journey ahead,
When I am too stuck in the journey that’s set.
I want to be wise and make smart choices,
But I can’t seem to quieten down these noises.
Still I look out into the horizon,
Wondering what there lies within,
I stroke my heart with hands tied by sins,
Noticing a soft, gentle grin,
As the light flows out and washes me clean,
It reminds me of exactly who I’m meant to be.
I was lost, but now I’m found,
I guess life is one big merry go around.
And so it starts, all over again,
Today I am clear, so let us dive right in.
Love Always,
M
Souloom™ 