Wave upon wave…

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Adrift

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy!” – J.M ‘Nightbirde’

It’s not about the decision but rather the elusiveness of happiness. Battered over and over, each wave harder than the latter, yet the stone quietly disappears still glistening, every encounter ripping a piece of my soul. Would you let me see beneath your beautiful, each shuddering breath anticipating the usual no? You don’t know me, you don’t see me but you clamor like the earth and its fullness is yours? How much longer can I bear this weight? How broken am I? Perfection, an oasis in the shimmering distance, unattainable yet teasing.

My clenched teeth hidden behind a smile is the only visible sign of the agony that besets me with every breath. Love surely doesn’t live here anymore however beneath my tent, I still hear the raucous laughter of the naive, the barely concealed glee of ill gotten weight, pockets weighted down that they burden you unknowingly. Here today, gone tomorrow; saddled with the burden of keeping count, I’m almost terrified to look at pictures just to acknowledge the spaces that once were occupied. How much longer can I go on? My question is rhetorical because the silence just magnifies my inability to comprehend.

Dreams disabled? It takes nought to do and still the dreams shatter but not the ability to. It’s eerily quiet at the moment and despite how hard I try, this is a moment that just won’t disappear. Where do broken smiles go? Where are they buried? Forget the fading applause, the night is certain in its duties. Disregard the glitter, they are but crumbling dust in my hands. The whispered terror, the blood shed, the victory won; it’s a maze I’m in but with each passing second, my limbs can barely function. This can’t be my home because I’ve walked the streets of grandeur once, hope is all I’ve got now and like the sand in the hourglass, it trickles away.

Just before this flame is extinguished, I grab the next candle, all but wax….hope remains surely. In the twinkle of an eye, the breath ceases and with the silence, I can hear it no more. Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest? Begone vile ones for he too deserves some peace. Your rum laced breath, overpowering as you prerorate, nothing is yours, you seem to forget. Naked you came in and naked you’ll depart, how do you so easily forget this? There’s no mountain high enough to shelter you, no valley low enough to hide the echo that resonates with your foolish gestures.

The years go by, and I find joy in the seed of my loins. Nothing can be done that hasn’t been done, yet still I refuse to cease my search for light in this overwhelming darkness. It’s not my garment of choice, each gust of wind blowing away a piece of my tattered cloak and still I must choose. When will the end come as I continue on my journey? What companion awaits me ahead is a question I cannot answer however I must ask. And if the ire is unleashed, what do I fear cos there’s nothing left.

70% hypothesized, but the tears so fast-flowing gives room to doubt. In my lament, I know there’s a message for any who cares to listen. You cannot cry me a river, the drought has been long and severe, cruelty is its driving force. The cold gnaws to the inside and all warmth is almost gone, and still I’m here; hope for the future, my only respite. In Your Arms, I find refuge and although comprehension might not be there, I’ll take what I’m given and yet hope. My strength has since depleted, the hollow echo bearing witness however it’s not by strength.

Cast adrift like flotsam, the waves are even more brutal, a purpose to be fulfilled regardless of how empty I fill. My journal has more endings and I hope, still I hope that there are also beginnings. Not the beginning of a journey, this one I’m yet to complete but rather the beginning of a restoration. I’ll yet hold on even as my sinews come apart and my ligaments give out, it’s nothing new but this I know “A man who has not prepared his children for his own death has failed as a father.”

Rest in peace, GED, OEBI, CD, RCB, PKW, NOC, CJO, JNM, KL, PZ, WS and may your memories be blessings to us.

Clearing Debris….

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Sometimes it just seems like our lives are a kitchen sink filled to the brim with clutter- dirty dishes, dirty mugs, used and discarded cutlery. And a few inches above, a window cracked slightly open but with the sill in dire need of attention. More often than not, we do not even realize how cluttered we are until we are desperately in need of a clean plate for a meal that we so longingly crave, as pang upon pang of hunger hits us. Sometimes, we are confronted by circumstances that, had we been given an option, we would not even want to imagine it.

It has been about a week since Hurricane Harvey and although I’m careful not to write about trending issues, (life is more than a carpeted runway in a fashion show) this was a life transforming event for many. The very things that we want to know, in retrospect, have no benefit to us in the long run. Humanity is often clouded by hastily taken decisions, bordering on sentiments that have no lasting power and like the wisps of smoke from an extinguished camp fire, we watch helplessly as the smoke dissipates into the air. We long for the warmth of the fire after it’s put out and usually we are oblivious to the fact that right at the edge of darkness, a pair of feral eyes glinting in the dark is the only evidence that we have been spared from more than just the loss of the campfire.

In my opinion, it comes across as a slight blend of annoyance and irritation when in the aftermath of a storm, someone comes across and without tact, utters the following words beginning with “if I were you…..”. How on earth could you ever be me? That statement in itself is tantamount to ridiculing the order of existence. We are all individuals of unique capabilities and purposes, and therefore flaunting your naivety is not by any standard, a measure of intelligence. To this day, I recall how destructive a storm can be but amidst the storm, there can also be a peace that trounces the storm. In my sessions of encouragement, I usually reiterate how life transforming some events can be. Considering the transformation is probably going to be the content of the next post however how we deal with the transformation tells more about us than we care to share.

Summoning up courage to see the positive in the transformation, a transformation that we all must face in one form or another, is best experienced. It is easy to be cheerful when our bellies bulge with the cuisine of our preference, when our pockets sag with the weight of gaudy trinkets and gold sovereigns. It is easy to encourage another when there are no ruffles in our every day lives but what happens when the very things we inadvertently and often unwittingly depend on is taken away? When our brains freeze in distress and panic and the usual praise songs seem like a burden of irritation? Can we at that point, realize that clearing out debris from another’s house is way different from clearing the debris from our own homes. How effusive our condolences are when the mourning is another’s but the true definition of your values is seen in the nudity of our fundamental beliefs.

Driving around town and seeing streets constricted by the debris and unsalvageable items left in the wake of H.Harvey is yet another learning point. There is no rejoicing over that, neither should there be any guilt that nothing of yours was lost. The basic tenets of life are in full display in the aftermath of the storm. I see the sadness in the eyes of those who have been forced to lose houses, cars, antique pieces. I hear the hollow echo in their words as many struggle to come to terms with the fact that the house that has been in the family for generations has been reduced to rubble. The desperation that comes with the knowledge that there’s so much the insurance companies can do…..then is when the question should be asked, “where have you stored your treasures?” The transient treasures of this world lose value in the face of catastrophic events like receiving a diagnosis of an incurable medical condition. Nonetheless, it is not what we do with our blessings that is the real test, rather it is what we do when the blessings are taken away?

I recall purchasing my very first cellphone, a Motorola Accompli – I had scoured through newspapers waiting for that discount to be published. And when I added up the dimes and nickels, my joy knew no bounds as I pushed open the phone dealership to finally lay my hands on my dream phone. It had taken a significant portion of a year and almost all of my savings, but it was all worth it because now I has dreamt, woken up and achieved the dream. My moment of truth came as I was crossing the street with my new phone cradled under my arm…..”what would happen if my dream phone suddenly fell from my hands, and despite my best efforts, meet its untimely demise on the tarred road?” Shattered with no hope of being put back together, what would I do? That was the defining moment in my life because there and then, I realized that we are each responsible for the extent our blessings hold sway over our lives. That moment of truth shaped my life and regardless of how cruel this might sound, we need to clean out the debris and loss from the storms we encounter.

It’s not ungodly to be saddened by the loss of what we built with our hands but have we taken time to realize that its rebuildable stuff thats been lost and not our hands. There is no sense in battling the undertanding that till we let go of the old, we might never receive the new. It is only when we let go of what we have in our hands, that God can actually use it. And who can better the old but the manufacturer Himself? There is no insurmountable grief, no helpless battle instead there will always be you and I who have, for some unfathomable reason, refused to just let go. And till we let go, we will simply sink further into the bog. Behind every debris is not just grief and loss but there is also open space to truly delight in. Embracing the fact that we are able to trust One who has never and will never hold back the very best for us. We might not see the best as we look at the clutter in our lives but we must look beyond to enable us receive that which will always be His best for us. It is not about us putting the puzzle together, it is more of letting go and letting Him and even if we do not understand now, there will come a time and place where the fullness of knowledge will come upon us.

עד ניפגש שוב, תן את היופי של ארשת פניו לזרוח עלינו!

Adios!