New Year New….Journey?
Some things have to stay in the past, no matter how hard you want to drag them into the present. That goes for good things that happened in the previous year too.
I could give you half a dozen titles and hundreds of words for blog posts I wrote (and remain in draft form) reflecting on 2018. I had hoped to give you a glimpse into practical highs, crushing lows and express thankfulness for everything in between. Instead I posted a poetic expression of a very stressful that situation that occurred recently.
I’m not the New Year, new me type, never have been. Maybe that was my go with the flow mentality. Significant changes every year for who? Me? For a few years, my end of year reflections started in October and changes began in November. Whatever calendar you work with, change has to start as soon as you’re ready to start changing. Simple, isn’t it?
Just knowing you came out the other side is as inspirational as any detail you could explain. The new you begun before anyone else could start putting up social media posts about what they would or wouldn’t be doing for the next year.
A new year may not bring or require wholesome change. There may be situations or seasons that have started at different times and require your investment to maintain or improve them. You could have started a job or taken up a hobby, you may be a parent and simply have seen your child grow up a little more. It is likely that you will have different things in different areas of your life that require your efforts. There is a journey to be had whether you are starting, maintaining or finishing something.
Can you trust yourself to acknowledge what has happened at a particular time and simply take only what is necessary into the next interaction, the next phase? Take enough fuel for the journey and burn it accordingly.
Although the stories of how we got from A-B are incredibly important. We cannot carry every book in its entirety with us. For us to live and move forward in life we must let them live in their space. That space may be the museum of unshared blogs or diary entries. That space may be a one off reading at an open mic, a WhatsApp message. That space may even be a single photo, a phone call or meeting at a café.
What are you keeping in your space in this season? What are you fuelling your journey with?
Generational or cultural expressions of what it is to be us in our natural and spiritual selves have in many cases been the foundations for who we are or have wanted to be. The expectations of those “passing the torch” may come with a pat on the head and a “be a good boy, do what I say and things will be fine” mantra. They are loaded with warnings and implied repercussions for disobedience.
In light of this, I have learned when to argue and when to keep my mouth shut. I have learned that by appearing to agree with them, I’m protecting myself from a storm of daggers and thunderbolts. I am protecting myself from the exertion of their demigod-like power for the sake of peace. I am shielding myself from myself because to expose that would be war.
Is it your duty to maintain or to advance?
At times I find myself trapped between a desire to maintain the best of what I have received, and build better versions of the worst. Within that are insecurities pertaining to the reception of my evolved view of the worlds I am in. There are also insecurities about knowing enough, being skilled or capable to deliver. Am I enough?
What I can say is that foundations require work. What held the initial version of you together may have to be revisited brick by brick. I am at that point. I admit it, I don’t understand a number of things that relate to the worlds I belong to. The questions I have, are generated by a level of discomfort with varying structures, attitudes and practices. The byproduct of this is a greater understanding of what I consider to be important.
What I consider important may not line up with generational or cultural expressions or expectations. However, my level of comfort in articulating that through word and deed can only increase by acceptance of that fact. From there, as I know more, I become more. I can exchange old clothes for new clothes and accessories because I know my size, my shape, my style.
Humanity has many dimensions, it’s our duty to discover as many of ours possible.
Photo Credit: Jenny Harper Photography
Time is the oxygen we allow our bleeding to breathe in
So I embrace the pain of another to prepare them for healing
When cut to the core with energy re ceded
Fruits of laboured pain I eat in exchange for the favour of grace
Salvation from the sins of the past that maim the present
Derailing the tensions that prevail as the lessons that only seek to lessen
So knowing the power to impeach and set precedents needs more than rhetorical tenements delivered with eloquence
I say listen to the memories given reverence and residence in your edifice
Evict your fear of change like a rent dodging resident, without sentiment
Embrace hope like a new pregnancy in spite of miscarrying triplets
You can only drink what you allow to flow through your inlet
(And) If not filtered you falter, your gaze on destiny alters
Until you’re feeling forced to drive on the wheels of misfortune
Floundering in the forest of the forlon, war torn by the dim light
(Yet) my in sight drinks from glasses doubled in clarity.
So every head shot is a meteoric light telling dystopia not to marry me
Utopia is a pharisee until we conclude lamentations
Hesitation is not self preservation until But They, is deleted from our recitation
For convenient flagellation conceals contamination
Some who say time is a healer refuse to watch what they’re saying
With the mind they’re paying, as games they’re playing
Life’s not a lottery. it’s just a wall for painting
Pain may be your undercoat so decorate with your celebration
The why and how wont add up so detonate your decimation
Replace your But They’s with For I,
Forgiveness, for love, for health for strength
I embrace pain like a bad disciple.
Betraying it with the priceless knowledge that it is no love rival.
To be made wise with experience means pain is a chapter in your bible
That many misinterpret and create a religion like disaster was their idol
You’re a lamb to the slaughter if you buy bull
Death precedents canot give life to your revival
Stealing time to cry is not a crime if you value freedom through peace of mind at all.
So open your chamber of secrets and empty your back full of knives
Knowing your scars are part of the painting
Don’t dam the flow claiming your assets will be liquidated
I say embrace pain like a trigger and squeeze it until the ammunition is asphixiated
From soul to soul I hope to mitigate your evanesence
Embracing your pain and killing it, to make you great through resurrection
See the politics of living dictate survival’s a general election
Some histories we repeat because we wont scatch the record
We’d rather dance to our beatings till we’re prey without ceasing
Ignoring the truth that our spirits fruits bare in season
I call it a faith crime when we pray without seizing
When taking chances to count our blessings, to the creator is pleasing
You can only claim the blessing of an heir if you’re breathing
Need feeding? Believe him!
Life words like seeds from the other trees in Eden,
Will you not eat them or will you ask… What would heathens do?
A question rarely tended, if ever thought of.
We drink the lies of many authors like they were last orders.
Picturing Jesus drowning his sorrows with a glass full of water
Instead of walking through the tempest like Kate’s pen game was his daughter
Ignoring the needs of our heart, doing what folk think we ought to
Being heady and high minded will not make you highly thought of.
Your embrace of pain can turn a sniper to sawn off
So make a decision before you tell me your story
If it’s gory to gory and you’re the bullet of this one shot
Do you know your tools can enrich the plot
Your intimacy can harvest the better ending
So are you a gardener preparing for new seasons
Or are you just pre tending
With your embrace
Hang my mistakes in the gallery of discontent
Feed my fear to the parthenon of the proud
Shower my glaring weaknesses with shadows of sadness
Deliver my smile to infertile ground
I am not afraid
Curse me with the contempt of the rainbow at sunset
Step on my to’s and fro’s as I waltz
Cuff my ears with symbols of the doldrums
Fill my mouth with your vinegary vocabulary
I am not afraid
Fondle my fretting with sweet melancholia
Embrace my passion with ponderings of my past
Suffocate the heir to my crown
Wipe me with necrotic tissue of your soul
I am not afraid
Though I walk wisftfully on the wires of wonder
Harnessing hope in ravaged blindspots
Though I fall through cracks in the clouds of comfort
Abased by punctual puncturing of my pride
I am not afraid
Though I may fall from gracious expectations
Though my potentials realisation may be over waiting
Though my face may not make the favoured frames of fortune
Though my eyes may only light alleys and side streets
I am not afraid
Though I may model the fashions of confusion
Though discontent may rip my physique
Though I am unburdened and appear barren
I am are the words I speak
For I am not afraid.