If You Let Yourself Learn

The older you grow, the more likely to come to pass your fears become. Your silly ones like never disabusing yourself of the need to suck your thumb when you sleep. Or serious like losing someone you love. In essence, life happens. I’ve really hated the darker times in my largely sun-filled life. But I’ve also learnt a lot about myself and life in general in those times. In fact far more than I’ve learnt at any other time in my life…it’s like being on an intense, condensed course in Sadness with electives in Toughening Up and In-depth Self Reflection as side options. Things that took me 20 fairly odd years to learn about myself and others, I learnt in a few weeks of sorrow and mild depression.

One of the things I hate most about Sorrow is her bald, acrylic-taloned, flat chested (i imagine) companion; Fear. That instant, pervading and permanent fear that engulfs you, from the moment one of your hidden fears becomes a reality. Your heart stops, your head spins, the air in your lungs escape your lips in a hurry, your hands shake…your tear ducts squeeze but nothing comes out...as if your watermen aren't keen to release any fluid, like they are too despondent to produce the tears they are supposed to. Your whole body, mind and soul wilts in defeat as you think of 101 things left unsaid or said or couldadonebetters or oughtnottohaves. You’re hurting but you’re too shocked to cry or link the building blocks of alphabets into words to share your pain, to express your rage, your eyes are glazed and your heart actually feels like a paper weight; heavy and hollow. Sigh, I hate going through that painful process. The only thing comparable is that first moment where your soul suspects that sorrow is probable and imminent, the trepidation you live with right before the full extent of your upcoming hurt is unveiled is horrible. To me.

But day by day, after the realization hits, when it has settled and fits you snugly like that LBD that’s your best friend for one season you slowly begin to look behind you; not with horror, confusion or sorrow but with a better perspective, a new understanding of yourself, others, situations. The process is hard but the lessons you learn are invaluable.

I’ll share what I’ve learnt in recent times; I can only control my own actions. I am responsible for no one else’s.

Manipulation, fervent hoping, cold wars, mind games, wild expectations, will get you nowhere fast. Follow Your Bliss. Expect a 100% from yourself all the time. Do your best ONLY because that is what you want from yourself; being the best version of yourself you know how to be. Ultimately, you can only control and are only accountable for your own actions. When people say things like if "I was more like *insert perceived favourable trait*, this wouldn't have happened..."I quietly ask them to take a seat in the corner and face the wall, they seldom agree but that's neither here nor there. Holding yourself responsible for another's actions is the invite to the Guilt & Self-Pity Lounge. Thank Great Jehovah for helping me realise this mid-self evaluation. If you know you've done your best please don't blame yourself if things don't work out the way they ought, you've done your bit now leave it to the Finisher of Our Faith to work things out. God impresses me time and time again with His uncanny ability to steadily work things out in a way that benefits me in the end; the secret is to ask consistently through the pain "...show me the lesson here! Please!" Otherwise all of that anguish is actually your own time wasted if you GAIN nothing at all! *Shakes head vehemently* I MUST learn something if only so I can feel like I defeated the situation. A little. I'm competitive like that.


The entire point of this article, was to get to this final point...What I Like Best About Pain.

The education it brings and the empowerment that follows heartbreak is invaluable. It's like your body develops an immunity, the possibility of your Self being attacked again of course always remains, but you’re more knowledgeable in self-preservation. More than that if you listen to the still, small voice inside, you realize that you have a new-found confidence, not in things or people but solely in yourself, your abilities to survive time and time again. Suddenly you feel invincible, and I think that’s what every human has at their core; a strength and resilience that will always let you survive… if you Let Yourself Learn.

A Lot.

"Who will grieve for this woman? Does she not seem
too insignificant for our concern?
Yet in my heart I never will deny her,
who suffered death because she chose to turn."
-Anna Akhmatova


There are certain things that happen in life that have the potential to humble a person; death, divorce, defeat. Sometimes inevitable parts of living on God’s Grey Earth. For some life is chequered, with these Inevitables sprinkled here and there. For others life in it entirety is one big hustle causing them to tiptoe through life simply to arrive safely at death. Still for others, some very fortunate ones, nothing has impeded their enjoyment of this life. Not too long ago I counted myself a proud part of this fortunate class. *Dusts Membership badge*

I rephrase, I did not count myself a part of the class more like I considered myself an elite and privileged sub-section of the genus Untouchable. There I was a carefree woman, never believing any evil could be audacious enough to approach my dwelling space not because I am God’s favourite child (I didn’t even know this then) but just because in my idealistic, idyllic, sheltered world, bad things just did not happen to Us. I do not know why but they just did not. *Shrugs*

Oh to go back to those days where such assurance was concrete. The older you get, the more life seems determined to remind you that all the world is a stage and we herein are merely its unpaid amateur actors. The script has been written. Now, now ‘I Am The Captain Of My Faith, I Am The Master Of My Soul’ proponents reel in your bulging eyeballs and palpitating hearts, I am not talking about predetermination here. I am not Sibyl; the only wondrous orbs I glare into from time to time have little plastic people inside and fake snow falling when it is overturned. I merely suggest when I say that we are but actors on this great stage of life, that sometimes the control of this life is out of our hands...far beyond the reach of our greedy, yearning phalanges.

How do I know this? I don’t.

I don’t know, I think so though.

I think so because, I plan my life; map out my memories, determine my destination and propose my purpose for the year/5 years/10 years ahead. I make plans based on my hopes, goals AND ability. But as Robert Burns warns us “...The best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry”. King Solomon a.k.a The Sage agrees with cher Monsieur Burns, pithily he tells us “Man proposes and God disposes”. (Prov 16:9 Paraphrased). It seems that the older one gets the less likely the world is willing to indulge the individual. Life’s lessons do not bring you up…they drag you up. Forcefully. As the years pile on themselves in a vicious effort to draw you ever closer to your twilight years, you will find that childlike qualities are very quickly replaced, as a paradigmatic shift in perceptions occur. Your perceptions change and you find your sheltering idealism suddenly snatched away from you like a wig you find yourself holding after a violent breeze blows it off its owner's skull.

For me, after a life of very few hard-knocks and idyllic life that might be surreal to many, I found that the very first slap Life gave me almost took me out of the match; I almost passed the baton to the next runner and abandoned the field of play. First life blow-slapped me with a death. To say it left me reeling is an understatement. There was after all the well established rule that bad things did not happen to me or mine. “I thought you knew this?” I asked God. This was a well recognised law. The universe respected it, the stars didn’t but appreciated it anyway and nature, naturally cooperated. But death visited and snatched a life from me, exalting in its victory. A short lived victory because here I am having lived through my worst nightmare. I stumbled, badly, after Life gave me the first hard-knock but as Tolsoy says, "If I know the way home and I am walking along it drunkenly, is it any less the right way because I am staggering from side to side?" I found my way back home.

In recent times Life has again attempted to blow-slap me into submission. Not to the same degree as before thanks to the God that watches out for me and mine, but still a healthy slap was dealt. I failed an examination. This is humbling for me because it is an entirely new experience. This is deeply embarassing for me because...well it just is. No one likes to fail I guess. *Shrugs*
So the exam for which I studied for two months and this very blog helped document some of the struggles, is the same I failed. I was close to the pass mark, a blessing and a curse, but obviously not close enough. I cried and cried like the broken hearted negro slave on a plantation bound slave-ship I referred to in a previous post. (I’ve always thought that though crying is cathartic, it’s very useless as a relief tool. It has no ability to wipe away the past, it largely serves an indulgent purpose..making me feel better.)

After this epic fail(who knew the term would ever be used in seriousness), I am humbled. As I try to make sense of this, I realise that this failure for me sounds exactly like a reverberating death knell on my joy. I hear the heavy bell ringing as if in mockery of my many successes, so loud that my accomplishments seem a distant dream. And I am awed by how much past failure can limit future success. 3 solid weeks, 21 days, atleast 504 hours and potentially trillions of seconds after receiving my results, I still find myself sad, constantly doubting my intellect, mentally limiting myself, questioning my abilities and warring with my emotions. Some how I have managed to plummet into the proverbial 'Funk' y’all. * That made more sense in my head.*

I read the story of Lot's wife today and it's gone some way in giving me insight that God willing, will drag me out of this 'funk'.

Lot’s wife in the Bible.

Lot’s wife’s suffering in the Bible is a story I never really paid attention before. BUT this is an amazing analogy of human beings & life today. (The Bible has done it again!). Lot’s wife had been told to leave her city with her family because it would be destroyed by God. “Don’t look back!!!” Lot warned and warned according to God’s directions. But as Lady Lot ran out of her city, she cast one last look back at her city.

In sadness, seeing her city full of her friends perish? In wonder, at what God rescued and saved her from? In happiness, at her ‘haters’ eventual downfall and total destruction? In fear and worry, as she witnessed all that she had worked so hard for go up in hellish flames? Whatever the case, Madame no look road she stay dey look back. Lady Lot wouldn’t focus on the road in front, instead she looked back and received her punishment. Not just for disobeying God but for two other reasons, I suspect.

For one thing, Lady Lot did not trust God and His promises enough to let go of her past. Secondly, by turning around to take inventory of what was behind her, she inevitably slowed herself down. She hampered her progress by those few minutes or even seconds that she stood staring at all that she HAD rather than looking forward at all that she would HAVE if she trusted her Maker.

Lady Lot turned into a pillar of salt. An immovable block of salt is actually the paragon of stagnation. If I was Aunty Nkem of ‘Tales By Moonlight’ fame, I would tell you that the moral of the story is that her past had held her so captive that she could not move forward to face the future. A free, unlimited, unmarked, potential-filled future by the way. Maybe she should have been considering the future with anticipation of another chance? Perhaps with thanksgiving to God for remembering The little Lots in their tiny Sodom home? Or maybe standing in awe of God’s mighty power in saving herself AND her family.

I realise that in many ways I have been Mrs. Lot. Standing mobile crying over the lot I have lost. Shame really, when my best is yet to come.

Fin.

I cant believe I am about to leave Berkeley. *insert sad face here*....Almost exactly a year ago, I left the rainy shores of Londres for sunny California...to fully manage and damage Da Wesssss' Coasssst!lol!....Sorting through my stuff, I found the very first email I wrote to my friends when I got here....and I had to smile....Who would have thought I'd have such an AMAZING year?!?!?!?!...

"Hello

Got this idea from Miss S**** to send a message en masse as opposed to sending indivdual text messages which I cant really do now because not only do I have a life(I keed, I keeeeeed) but also it would cost me too much and frankly I wouldnt be able to say everything I wanted to.

So first of all, I MISS YOU TERRIBLY!!! true talk.please ring me.5********7.I HAVE A BLACKBERY now so I need all your blackberry pins so we can chat. Or I need u all to go get blackberrys!

Now on to the last gruelling weeks details. So, I arrived in Washington on Saturday afternoon, after an eventful last night at Los Locos...thanks again you guys;-)...was in Washington till tuesday, got my plane to San Fran....it took abt 8 hours!!! People, can I just warn u that Americans are possessed!?!! Please cheap tickets or not, DO NOT USE U.S AIRLINES. Not only were the flight attendants aged...no seriously I mean museum type ancient but you also had to buy the (crappy) airline food!!!! 8hours of torture.

Anyways, so I landed at the airport hoping my friend in Stanford E** would come get me as promised...she was no where to be found....finally got in touch wih her. she was just waking up from sleep!!! PANIC! Ok, this is San Francisco, the modern day Sodom and Gomorrah, literally. Apparently it has a 60% gay count. While I didnt bump into any flamboyantly dressed yet coquettish drag queens, I was still very afraid. Anyway, so E** sent her friend to come get me instead. Granted I was angry but I was just relieved to be getting home. finally.

So, drove to berkeley which is about 40 mins from San Fran and is a city of its own, got to my apartment, opened the door...sighing with relief, twiched the light switch and alas, people of God, THERE WAS NO ELECTRICITY! Yes, dear friends, this was an "UP NEPA" moment. But one i didnt need. As if that wasnt enough, my apartment was absolutely empty! Not a stitch of furniure to be found anywhere!I almost died.

Seeing the depression on my face, E**'s friend offered to drive me to E**'s place in Stanford....turns out this city is beyond massive. It took us 1.45 to get there. Without traffic.

Next day spent the day shopping for my furniture...used a taxi back to my place from stanford. Had to endure the taxi driver's complaints about how loading furniture is not his job etc. Apparently, he only did it because im his African sister. Right.

Oh and did i mention that I live about ten minutes walk from a ghetto. Oh yes, a real G-Unit style-rap-about-me-ghetto. I mean between the MamaJo's soul food restaurant, the du-ragg'd out knee-groes and the old man in fela-style pants ambling to his balcony to 'holla at his niggahs' literally, my taxi driver kindly infomed me that the area looked like a place where drive-by shootings where common place. Suffice to say i wasnt impressed by that observation.
Anyways, in all of this I still have no electricity and have had to sleep with candles all over my room...romantic, if not for the slightly Olumba-shrine like feel of it.

Orientation was today and my ENTIRE year is full of the aged ones....the impressively c.v'd, terribly bright but still aged. Wow...looks like i might just be the class dunce then.joy.

Anyways, thats my little rant. I still have no electricity...Until tomorrow evening. they're shooing us out of the library now. Please ring me!"

Turns out I didnt infact have electricity for 5 whole days....(Tod world in the Fost world....or 3rd world in the 1st world, if you like). AND the allegedly aged and impressively cv'd turned out to be some of my best.friends.ever....dont judge a book & all that goodness.

Next time I write,I will be over the BAR.Literally.Meditate on that sweetness.  

But for now...Bye Bye Berkeley; a place where the freedom to question, to express and to.just.be, is neither mocked nor revered but respected as a fundamental human right. And, apparently, where a grown-ass man may freely stroll about in a corset with nary an eyelid being batted in his direction. Vive liberté!