I am going through what I consider a growing phase. That sounds okay until you realise that that sums up the entirety of the human experience- growth. And how can all that we are meant to be and experience be qualified as a phase?
That said, I have realised that I’m not going through a growing phase. Rather, I am simply being human. In all the thoroughness and authenticity that one can possibly muster at this age. And that’s okay.
The problem? Other humans. It is starting to feel like other humans are mad at my being human. As if I have a choice in the matter. There are talks about being more, being better when we all know that that will never truly happen. Here’s why: More and better are only more and better as long as there is more and better to be. Get it?
There will always be some height to attain and some finesse to embody. This never ending cycle is the human experience. So why, dear ones, do people freak out when you’re doing this? As if your being human, in some way, is an alien concept.
I think it might be because our humanity is something we’re often in denial about until it stares us in the face. Often in the form of and through the eyes of another human.
I hate that I have to be the reminder of how flawed and fallible you are. Frankly, I wish I wasn’t. But seeing as that’s the only way I can be, my advise to you is to breathe. Confront your humanity and learn to love it. And by it, I mean me and every version of yourself you might encounter everyday.
I struggle to take control of my life. The irony? I also struggle to relinquish control to anyone else; God included.
This constant battle leaves me in a very weary state. Always going back and forth about what is mine to control and what is mine to let go.
I see that this leads no where. It is a mindless tug of war and all I am is stuck. Frankly, I don’t know how to get unstuck. I’m currently audio reading Emotional Agility (Get Unstuck, Embrace Change And Thrive In Work And Life) by Susan David. Let’s see how it goes. For now, I’ll be doing a breathing exercise I just learnt about.
My answer? No. I didn’t start the day off right. It was an emotional bloodbath over here. Tears and snot being the most intelligible expression for the most part of the morning.
Here’s a funny thing though. I started the day off right. I was in a good place. My quiet time had been so good, I went past the time I allotted it. But I almost don’t remember this goodness. Why? Because everything that followed was a mess and they tumbled on each other as they hit me. I’ll spare you (and me) the details.
What’s the point of this piece? To show you that life happens in such an overwhelming way that you might forget that life ever happened.
It’s 6:46pm WAT and I can say, I had a good day. I dare the evening to try to change this statement and it’ll learn the lesson that the morning did- I fight back!
I woke up with a boy on my mind. Lionel Worthy Nafir to be precise. How could one capture my thoughts so ferociously yet be so completely unaware and unconsumed by the fire they so explicitly share with me? It baffles me, to be honest. What’s crazy is that I don’t want to tell him how I feel yet. I like the weight of this secret. It’s comforting, it’s mine. I like that none can take it away from me, save Jesus of course and even then, I have to give it up. It’s a nice feeling. It really is.
Now that I have acknowledged the state of my heart and it’s crevices, I am a lot more glad than when I first awoke.