Impian Stories: Dreams yet unfulfilled

A determination

One day, as we all tend to say, I am going to live my own life, seek my own fortune, chase after my own dreams and latch onto the happiness that has long eluded me.

For there are dark recesses, shadows, secrets and fears, the feeling that some are being protected from truths that are mine, but unknown to many.

Who I am is a prism viewed from different perspectives of incidence of light, the many colours, some vibrant, some dull, some bright, some dark – the sum of my parts that has become the product that you see, is only revealed in part, in parts, the whole is never known.

Being myself to myself

Even to myself, I have concealed a treasure trove of detail I have tried not to revisit in the attic of my memory, gathering dust, covering skeletons, desperately attempting to extricate myself from a bad history to walk into a good future, dogged and chased by blood-thirsty demons in relentless pursuit of my soul.

As the autumn comes, in life one might well have a spring cleaning, open the windows, let the air in, dust the carpets, remove the veil and light up the night and bask in a new freedom, we all need to cut away somewhere, somehow, sometime and face up to the truth of who we really are.

One day, as we all tend to say, I am going to live my own life.

Thought Picnic: Some thoughts far from home

Away and away

After over two decades of voluntary absence by reason of a youthful disillusionment, some unresolved conflicts, the unspecified dread of authority and unwarranted intrusion one begins to have some consideration.

Nostalgia has never really been an emotion that has found a safe harbour in ones thinking, however there is a need to do certain things for which the passage of time brings the possibility of things that may not be retrievable if they occur before action is taken.

Not being one of great means if any means at all there are no options to exercise to fulfil that desire as at yet.

Adrift and aloof

Absence has not made the heart grow fonder, it has only created a greater sense of indifference in some instances and resentment in others, most of the time it is one of diminishing affinity to the ones that once mattered but maybe just not enough.

Lives have drifted apart too much, the thinking too divergent to find consonance and many decisions tend towards conflict than agreement because of differences that probably will never be properly understood outside of what and where they are.

In the circumstances, there is every possibility that the younger will not outlast the older, for beyond going astray, he might well be lost and dangerously difficult to find.

Again to arrive

Home is in many different places, of where people are and where the nativity was, but the roots are hardly fast in the ground, they have become a thing of the mind, a convenience of comfort where one might want to be.

To return is incubating, the thoughts are forming, the dreams are aligning, the possibility is looming, and a place one once knew might well be seen again soon. Preparation starts with the mind.

Thought Picnic: The sentence of death in ourselves

Yes, we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead, who delivered us from so great a death, and does deliver us; in whom we trust that He will still deliver us. II Cor 1:9-10 [NKJV]

Learning of something

With this in mind he made his way to the place where the first indication with be given of what his life might turn out to be. A salvation with amazing luck of being untouched but the foreboding of sudden misfortune of a life that will change forever.

As he was counselled, he expected no surprises, he almost knew what the result will be, though they were to run another battery of tests again to be sure that what they saw the first time was what it really was.

The nurse came in and gave the news, he was impassive, reflective and quiet, absorbing the news with the stoicism of what next, what next after this and get on with it.

Concern from someone

Without company or support, his lonely world had to grow to share with itself the gravity of happenstance, the nurse himself was moved to tears that the patient became comforter for the sorrow that was felt about him – then he intoned, “This might eventually kill me, but I will not go down without a fight.”

With that, pamphlets of information were gathered and shared, he was to feel anger, be in denial, be despondent, be regretful, feel hopeless, probably suicidal and cycle through every form of despair but through the cloud of this misfortune he felt the pamphlet was missing one thing, the thing that takes you on a journey of life when death is roaring at the door; hope.

Cistern of some hope

He did not know what the next day will bring, the week was further, the month had possibilities, but years were like a dream, something not to be dared in thought or by expectation, but 11 years on after learning, he yearns to keep stern that he might yet earn much beyond concern.

No, it has not been easy, with it has come great loss and privation but in that story told to many to sympathise, to empathise, to encourage and to embolden, they have gone on to do great things too because the sentence of death only hangs over the head of those who have stopped living, where hope abides, we trust that there will be another day, and another day that leads to a week, a month, a year, a decade, some gratitude and great thankfulness.

We are still here, and that is wonderful to behold.

Thought Picnic: Finding more baskets to keep the eggs

The testing tests

Entering the sixth week since the competition began, the prize is nowhere nearer reach as the race has increased in difficulty with the hurdles only showing up after each one has been skipped.

The preparations for each milestone have been painstaking to the point of distraction, and each test of will, resolve, reserve and knowledge has become more intricate and too different from all other experiences, there is no good way of gauging if one has done well or not.

After coming over the second hurdle which felt like a Turkish massage; the apparent mugging that precedes the consequent well-being after a good massage, the enthusiasm for this race began to wane as it was revealed that many more hurdles remain before any decision will be made.

Get more baskets

One can no more wait for the end of this seemingly interminable exercise that offers no guarantees despite the hope one has for recognition and acceptance.

It is time to begin to consider if this is really worth ones while even though it seems like the opportunity of a lifetime, they exhibit no urgency as one needs for this to be completed with alacrity.

The marketplace is our oyster and the sky could well be the limit, for to snap out of the foolishness of putting all ones eggs in one basket of hope that could be eventually dashed is the beginning of wisdom.

The search continues.

Thought Picnic: When in the face of beauty, words fail me

I behold

It is a reaction I have relived and experienced from as far back as I can remember, probably four times until once again today; a look, a face, just the face, the eyes, the nose, the cheeks, the smile, the perfect sculpt of art indescribable and at that instant my heart begins to melt.

My knees buckle, my heart races, but there is no lust or yearning of that sort, just a desire to be close, to be a friend and nothing more.

From afar but close enough

No, I would hate to ruin the adulation and awesomeness with any intimacy beyond deep appreciation that such exacting work of divine providence is bequeath on one person for which even the most sceptical will avow that a hand beyond sight does wonders of words beyond expression on the visage of another.

Then I pray, in the weakness that has overcome me, keep me from being besotted, deliver me from infatuation but these things rule my heart and deny my head the vetting of common-sense because there are times when just following the heart is the revelation of the beauty of nature and that of mankind.

Nay, words fail me.

Thought Picnic: Between healthy benefits and deathly demerits

Wherefore whereto

I find myself after a brief respite that has dealt with the pressing and immediate wondering again about what I need to do, what options I have and what possibilities are available to me in terms of the next role contractual or permanent without much of a clue.

The plans have been revisited, the profile rehashed, the strategy reviewed again and again without inkling as to whether I’ve got it wrong again or I should keep doing what I know how to do even more.

The constant graft

Daily, I put in requests to those who appear to need what I have to offer, a phone call, a form filled, permission granted, even telephone interview attended, but answers are long in coming and feedback literally has to be begged for – none of which keeps the confidence anywhere near where it ought to be, but the soldier trudges on thought swamp and enemy fire, ducking and diving – one must survive this war.

There is one preparation left that offers adventure, I will happily take if offered, it is what I love, being a Europhile beginning to have a love of the outdoors and looking to recapture a sense of youth with the new lease of life that accompanied my other adventure some 13 years before.

Keeping my head up

I cannot think too hard about what I don’t have, it will change nothing, though it never ceases to amaze me the many who pour into my bosom meeting immediate need that I want for the essential – God bless them all – it remains for me a story of lifelong gratitude that my privations have never been allowed to become desperately bereft of any hope or succour.

I am liked, I am loved, I am embraced, there is concern, some sorrow, some encouragement, some sympathy, even empathy – there be many that walk with me to pull me through all this – it will come good and I will do well – with that hope, despair will just have to find some other habitation, and that is fine with me.

Like I have just said to my good friend – you can only hold your breath for so long before the healthy benefits become deathly demerits. Then I smiled.

Thought Picnic: In the open and broad light of day

I know I did

The last thing I did was send a message via WhatsApp and I shut down the phone to conserve battery power. Soon after, rather than put the mobile phone in my belt holster, I put it in my bag, I also switched off my Samsung Galaxy Tab and my mobile wireless dongle– I vividly remember all that, in that order.

Whenever I put my mobile phone in my bag, it always goes into the upper zippered compartment in the bag, it is the same place where my pill box and dongle goes.

But it’s not there

As I left one place for another close to midnight, I looked in my bag and somehow, I could not find my mobile phone, my mind raced ahead of my reality – I had lost it, and with that, it defined what I could see and what I could not – I earnestly believed I had lost my phone on the second and third time of checking. I was literally driven to distraction, well almost.

Now, impulsively, I could have returned to where I was to ask if anyone had handed in my phone, but I decided it could wait, but that wait almost made the night look like it would never end.

Wait for the morning

I knew there was nothing I could do until the morning, but I had to have a plan of action, return to the venue to ask about my phone, report it lost, engage the remote control antitheft facility to locate it if it gets switched on, have a picture taken of the person using it and send a message that I be contacted immediately before performing a remote wipe of the data.

Then again, I was ahead of myself, there is too much data on that phone for me to scrub it just like that, besides, it is my most reliable point of contact in these times of transition apart from the second interview I have scheduled for Thursday – mitigation, contingency, recovery and near panic – well, not really.

I tried to scheme what I needed to do and after having made out my plan to go out first thing in the morning to ask about my phone, I did everything to switch off from the bother and got on with other activities using my handy gadget that harbours the demons that haunt me constantly – the self-destruct button – a rational fatalism and much else.

Your spirit speaks

As the dawn broke, just as I reached for my bag, a voice in my head said, your phone is with you whilst another jocularly said, Fat Chance!

In the open light of day, as I considered unpacking my bag for one last time, the first thing I picked out of the upper zippered compartment was my mobile phone.

This clearly illustrates how our minds can becloud our reality leading us to believe something completely different from the truth despite the fact that the recollection of past events were as vivid as anyone could have them, I knew I put the phone in the bag, I could not think of how it could have slipped out – but there.

A switch for the mind

Besides, whilst this was another test of how I handle situations, I have been informed by experience again that I should trust my judgement a bit more, especially where I can recollect to minute detail what I did before.

More importantly, what you just need to time, maybe a clear head, maybe just absence from the situation or a wait until the dawn – usually that means you are tackling the problem with a fresh mind and all that exacting preoccupation of the mind and plans – We need a switch for that thing called the mind.