what will be said of me

what will be said of me
when I'm long dead and gone?
what will I be remembered for
when a memorial is made of me?  

will I be gone from this world
leaving no trace behind
like a serpent passing on a rock
or like the bird gliding across the sky?  

will I be forgotten
or leave behind
a void no one can fill?
will my work outlive me or
crumble like a pack of  cards
as I breathe my last?  

will there be a legacy
left for others to follow
will I have charted a path
where others can tread?  

will I be an example to emulate or a case study of pitfall to avoid?
will I be a shining star - a north star,  
lighting up the way for the next generation
or be a comet, whose flame is but for a moment?  

will books be written about me and
what would be read if they were?
will my life inspire others to greatness or lead another to tread
the path of destruction?  

will I live on in the hearts of people
or my memory fade like
a nightmare when
one awakens from it?  

when a remembrance is made of me
will it evoke pleasant memories?
will it bring a sigh, a smile, a longing or
will it be angst, a hiss, and
a quick moving on to happier thoughts?  

will I have made a mark, an impact?
will I have made a positive contribution?
will I have touched a life and wiped a tear? will I have been a blessing or will it have been the opposite?     

heart surgery

Incise!
do not numb the pain
let it shoot up the spine
like lightning
stunning the senses
out of stupor.  

Dissect!
separate the skin
from the layers beneath
rip the muscles apart
pierce the membrane
lay it bare.  

Excise!
tie off the offending parts
leave a wide margin
of healthy tissue
spare not any necrotic parts
be radical.  

Anastomose!
restore functionality
let there be a union of live cells
working together in unison
sustaining life.  

Suture!
close the jagged edges
weave the thread
under the cuticle
limit the scar and the stares
let the healing begin.

"For the word of God is quick and powerful
  sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and
is a discerner of the thoughts and intent of the heart" (Hebrews 4:12, KJV)

To Maria my estranged

oft times I wonder,
and in my solitude I ponder,
thoughts of you fill
my heart and soul.  

I wonder how you are faring,
whether you are alright;
I  worry if you are distressed
or struggling with life's mess
with a facade of a smile
as you are wont to do.  

I wonder if in your busy schedule,
you pause to entertain a thought of me;
and if you do,
whether you allow the thought to linger,
and if you do,
does it make you frown or smile.  

I wonder if you remember the good times, the memories of the laughter
and the companionable silence;
the melodies hummed and the music swayed to
remember our dance in the middle of the night,
the nights of storytelling,
and the days of giggling over nothing,
and our song?  

in the faces of women I see you,
in gestures and inflections;
in the arms of another I feel you,
in the kisses I taste you and
in the deepest crevices of pleasure
I am acutely aware of you;
gliding over the waves of ecstasy
I hear you calling to me.  

why ever did we allow things get so bad, letting little things slowly erode the bond
we painstakingly built and
leave nothing to hold on to
not even friendship from where everything else started?  

I wonder if things could be set straight again, can broken glass ever be made whole again? can broken egg be mended?
can spilt milk be recovered?
or yet can a new bond be formed again rising not out of the ashes of the old
but on new earth, freshly ploughed and readied for the new seed of friendship?
I wonder......
I wonder.....

Painting the world

Capture the world in all its beauty,
paint a still life,
frame it,
hang it on the wall.
Splash it with bright colours,
make bold your strokes;
show off its beauty with the avidity of your brushstrokes.  

Capture the world in all its fury,
like a raging storm with flashes of lightning overhead.
Paint the blackness and darkness of the skies overhead;
and the helplessness of the man adrift at sea with the shore
so near but yet so far.  

Capture the world in all its promise;
the grass springing up after the rain is past,the sun breaking through the layers of cloud,itching to lend its rays on the earth;
cheering up the birds and setting them to sing;
coaxing the fluttering of the wings of the butterflies. 

Capture the world with colours
tell a tale of its many sides:
set it up- a painting on a wall
drawing to it by its realness
men from all walks of life.

Tomorrow

Today, i couldn't reach my destination,
I had wandered away from the path;
I had been led astray by the glittering non-
essentials,
And now i'm stuck and clueless, in the gathering
night.
But tomorrow, with its promise of sunlight,
Holds an assurance of a journey completed.

Today, i failed to shine,
And lighten the world-
Giving the next man the inspiration to brighten his
own corner;
Today, i neglected the one thing that was essential-
love.
As i look back with dismay,
I realize with a heart full of gratitude:
I had one more gift-
Tomorrow- to make things right.

Today, i failed; tomorrow i'll succeed,
Today is marred by my actions,
Tomorrow is a fresh lump to be molded into
greatness;
Today, i wished i had not been born,
Tomorrow i'll be immortalized.
Tomorrow, a day of hope and better things awaits,
I'll rise and meet it with gladness;
For tomorrow i'll shine.

The Shadow of Death

He was going to die!

He knew it. His breath came in short gasps and he was feeling faint. His hands were going numb with a tingling sensation in them. He was losing control and time and space seemed to stand still- everything looked surreal. So, this is what dying feels like, he thought to himself. His heart was beating faster and he looked around for a
place to sit.

He began to have flashbacks of moments in his life. His mind went back to the day he met Jane, yes, the happiest day of his life. Even at the face of imminent death, a smile broke out on his face at the memory.

He had been wandering around in the
park that evening and looking for a distraction. He could remember thinking to himself when he saw her that he had seen just that, only it was not what he had in mind.

She was tall and slender; light complexioned with an oval face that was creased in a frown. Her head was bent over her phone and she looked worried.

She was dressed in a black tee shirt over sky blue denim trousers and a pair of loafers.

He would later find out that she had been reading a text message from her mother that her father's condition had taken a turn for the worse. At that instant, a sudden
desire to wipe that frown from her face and replace it with a smile overwhelmed him. He could imagine how radiant her face would be.

He saw her blink rapidly trying to fight off tears but not managing to hold off a tear drop from rolling down the corner of her eyes.

He did not know how he got to her side, but he found himself standing in front of her and
introducing himself. She looked confused like she didn't know how she got there and nodded absently at him. Without thinking, he held her gently by the arms and led her to a nearby bench where they sat in silence.

After a while she put her face in her hands and sobbed gently, her whole body racked
with spasms. He held her gently, till the sobbing subsided. When she finally lifted up her face, they were red and swollen but the look of anguish and confusion had left them. Her change in demeanor was noticeable as she realized that she was in the presence of a complete stranger. She apologized
and asked for his name again, and thanked him for being supportive.

That night he had walked her back to her house despite her persistent decline of his offer. All through the walk, his heart had been beating faster and he had been short of words but fortunately, she was not in the mood for talking. She was lost in
thought. At her doorstep, she thanked him again and gave him her number at his request.

The next day when he called her, she had sounded more cheerful and had invited him over for dinner to thank him for the previous day.

He had enjoyed her company thoroughly that night, and they talked for a long time into the night. She had told him about
her family and her father who was in the hospital and was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease. It took great effort to leave her house that day after spending three hours together.

Their relationship had not started on a rosy note, about a week later, her father had died and she was saddled with the responsibility of arranging the funeral and attending to the numerous guests who came to the house to pay their condolences. He had admired her strength and courage in those days
and he was very excited when she had allowed him to help.

Not once did she cry during those days,
not until the night of the funeral, when all the
guests had gone and she was alone with him. He was about to leave and she had hugged him and thanked him for being there. There in the hallway, she had broken down, unable to hold the tears any longer.

They had stood there, her face buried in his
chest as she wept uncontrollably, the sounds muffled by his shirt, and he holding her gently and rocking her.

At that moment, he had known where he wanted to be for the rest of his life; with her, to be a shoulder for her to lean on.

Now, there was a churning in his stomach and he was getting nauseous. How could he die now? He thought frantically; when Jane was due to give birth in two days. Life was unfair! Just when things were going fine and smooth and he was looking forward to fatherhood, he was going to have to leave it all behind.

Just then, he felt a hand touch him from behind and a voice saying

''here, take this and breathe into it''.

He took the brown envelope from the stranger feebly and breathed into it several times.

Slowly, he began to feel blood flow into his arms again and the churning in his stomach began to subside. He was feeling clear headed again, and his breathing became steady.

''there you go'' said the stranger in a chirper
voice,''you were just having a panic attack''.

WHAT DO MEN WANT?

A wife is more than a homemaker or a bedmate unlike the popular belief among ladies of nowadays. Most ladies think that what an average guy wants from them is somebody to cook his meals, do his laundry, clean his house and sleep with, so they offer these services hoping to convince their men that they are wife material. Thus they are bewildered when after all these they are still dumped. Then they become embittered.

Most feminist nowadays now tell their fellow womenfolk not to perform any ‘’wifely’’ duties for the guys that they are dating as that is the key reason why they remain unmarried. According to them, the guys see no reason to propose marriage to them because they are already enjoying all the benefits of marriage with them.

While these may be partially true, it is also misleading and reflects the ignorance of the womenfolk about what a guy really wants from them. A lady has been taught by her mother that to be a good wife, she must possess above average culinary skills to woo the man, ‘’ the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’’ they dish out the ancient words. She must also be good homemaker. So she takes pains to learn all these and then tells herself that she is ready to be ‘Mrs. Right’ for the ‘Prince Charming’. But they couldn’t be more wrong.

The truth is we do not need a girlfriend to cook for us. A simple friendship with a lady could get that done. Personally, I know many bachelors who get their food cooked by their friends, many of who are married and who take pity on them and wouldn’t want to see them starving. We also do not need a girlfriend to do our laundry, there are those that wash people’s clothes for money, and there are washing machines too. And if we need our houses cleaned, we know people who offer these services too. So why then would we put ourselves through the hassles of a relationship and all sorts of stringent conditions and the expenditures just to get these things done, when we could get same for fewer amounts and definitely less emotional turmoil?

As for the sex part, there are lots of professionals that offer great, no strings attached, mind blowing sex, and who can be at our beck and call and who will be too happy to oblige our most perverse fantasies, many of which we cant share with our girlfriends. So the question is, why do we still have girlfriends? What do we want in that woman that we would like to spend the rest of our lives with? Why do we go through so many circles of women looking for just that one person?

What we want is somebody to share our dreams with, someone that will believe in us and cheer us on. It sounds simple but then not every lady we see can do that no matter how good a homemaker she is. We will not be satisfied living with somebody that will take care of our bodies and sate our appetites but cannot share our soul, dreams, passion and goals. We would not settle for less.

Sadly, most ladies are content with being a homemaker or they are too busy running after their career to bother with giving us what we really need. They want to dazzle us with their culinary skills and ambitions. Even if the ladies keep their legs closed and refuse to perform any ‘’wifely’’ duties like the feminists are advocating, we would still dump you if we discover that you cannot give us what we really need; that cerebral coitus, that union of hearts and mind that really makes us one.

No matter what you do, the ring would still elude you, once we cannot connect to you or sense that you do not share our dreams. If the only thing you focus on are your dreams, your desires and your fantasies, and you make everything all about you and your wants, then you have no place with us. It is only a matter of time; we will tire of you, no matter the sex appeal and the homeliness.

Take a moment to ponder on the way the ladies think. When asked about their dream man, here’s what majority will say: A tall, dark, and handsome man, God-fearing, caring, sensitive, a good father and the likes. Which of these relates to connectedness between her and him?

Why does she want God-fearing? So that he wouldn’t cheat on her and not so that he could be ready for heaven. He must be caring and sensitive because then he would be attuned to their needs and emotions and would always go to extreme lengths to fulfill them. What about his needs? Oh you know them already- sex and food! What about his dreams and aspirations, his passions and goals? He carries them all alone.

So, no, we do not need you, if all you have to offer is just that. Let’s just shag and go, and everyone are happy (pardon the language). We will give you all that you need but won’t bond ourselves to you. No, that will be a great mistake.

Now you know what we want. You know why we dump you even after several professions of love and even years of dating. We kept hoping we would find what we needed in you but we didn’t and we couldn’t deceive ourselves any longer. Don’t take it personal; you just weren’t the one. It is actually rare finding a virtuous woman despite the fact that 51% of the world’s population consists of females.

One thing we would advice is that rather than carry about bitterness and go about sharing the ‘’men are pig’’ gospel, take a hard look at your self. No one drops a diamond no matter how rough it looks, and forget that crap about we being ignorant of your value, believe me we know a diamond when we see one. And it isn’t in how sexy you look; the diamond is in the heart.

You want to be appreciated? Appreciate in your value. Understand what we want- not sex or food or homeliness, not that those are bad but they are bonuses. What we want is a partner and soul mate; someone attuned to our needs, who see us for who we are, not the cars or fat wallet or sexiness.

We need someone who knows our dreams and sees our fears and insecurities because our dreams are so high that it scares us. Someone who calms our fears; motivates us to be better and who cheers us on.

We need someone we can be ourselves with, and who knows us as much and even better than we know ourselves, someone that can be our confidant, who we are not afraid to confess our mistakes and shortcomings to, and not have to keep up the ‘’macho’’ façade with, someone we can lean on when we are weak. Keeping up an act is so tiresome and we get tired easily and move on if we can’t be ourselves with you.

We need someone who understands our silence, looks into our eyes and sees our soul, who will hold our hands and whisper encouragement. We need someone we can make a life with, and look forward to going home to every day.
That’s whom we want and we won’t stop until we have found her.

Death at the gate

There was a stampede, hundreds of feet rushed past in the direction of the open fields, away from the city gates. Greed was evident in the eyes of the few that bothered to give him a cursory glance, not in any one did he see pity or a desire to help.




He winced as several pairs of feet trampled on him in their rush to get ahead of the others, and several others fell as they stumbled on his body lying on the floor. Several others had fallen too, pushed roughly by the throng coming behind. He saw a young girl not more than nineteen years lying a few feet from him with her hands raised up and a her lips parted to utter a weak cry for help that was muffled by the noise of people shouting and cursing and whooping. None listened. None cared.



He struggled to get up, lifting his head from the floor but he realized to his dismay that he couldn’t move his legs. He looked at his legs and a groan escaped his lips; his two legs were broken and the bones were jutting out from the skin. He lay back down waiting for the madness- because that was what this is- to be over and then perhaps someone would spot him and come to his aid.



The stampede had been caused by the news from two lepers that had arrived the king’s palace earlier that day. They told the king how in desperation they had decided to go to the Assyrian camp and turn themselves over resigning to the possibility of being killed. But they had been shocked to find the camp empty with all their supplies intact and garments strewn over like they had left in haste. The supplies were enough to feed the entire city for a month they said.



He had laughed at the lepers’ story, and had told the king that it was a ploy by the lepers to get some food from the king’s table. But the king would not hear of it, the event of the previous day was still fresh in his mind and he hoped this was a fulfillment of the good news that had been delivered by the seer.




He had laughed inwardly at the king. Just because an old fool and self acclaimed prophet had come barging into the king’s palace to declare that in a day’s time, there would be surplus of food in the city after months of famine, the king was ready to believe these rejects. Unlike the king and other chiefs present who had hung on every word the prophet had said, he had challenged him. Even if God were to open windows in heaven, he had told him to his face, it was impossible that there would be surplus of food in just a day.




The king had sent to confirm the news of the lepers and the messengers had returned stunned. There was no one in the Assyrian’s camp. They had gone further along the highway and saw that garments were strewn all over the roadside, like they were thrown aside in a haste to flee. It was a mystery. Why would the Assyrian army flee and from whom? They had also confirmed that the supplies they found in the Assyrian camp were enough to feed the whole city for months. That was when the news was circulated round the city and the stampede had begun. The king then appointed him to control the traffic and oversee the affairs at the gate.




Now he lay bleeding on the floor, and his eyes were struggling to stay awake. The words of the prophet were haunting him




‘’ You will see it with your eyes but will not eat of it’’




The words had sounded hollow and empty before, but the full import was now weighing on him; he was going to die. He was sure of it.




It was becoming more difficult to keep his eyes open and he surrendered to the darkness as it closed around him, the scurrying of feet and noise around him also began to fade. And the last word he remembered before breathing his last were




‘’By this time tomorrow, a measure of fine flour shall be sold for a shekel’’

Glory

Glory

Fondest memories

  I will always look back at that fateful day with fondness; if you catch me smiling to myself, it would be most likely that I'm walking down memory lane, re-living that day.

The day started like every other day, no indication whatsoever of what it held in store. The weather was not sunny like the fairy tale renditions of an earth shattering day; and definitely not as predicted in the weather forecast. A cloud hung low in the sky, and the air was chilly. It was mid-June, and you could see people walking about with umbrellas, prepared for another day of downpour.

‘'oh not again'' I groaned inwardly as I left the house that morning. It had been raining all week and I hated carrying umbrellas, well I never owned one; it was just too much of a burden for me to carry about. I never believed the weather forecasters- they were all guessing as far as I was concerned;  and they usually are more wrong than right most of the time- but I was silently hoping their prediction would be right; it was high time the sun shone in the skies again.

There was nothing at all unusual about the day that would have indicated that something special or someone special would enter my life.

It was around 2pm in the afternoon after a busy morning in the clinics, during my lunch break. I finally had a few minutes to myself to rest and have some moment of peace and quiet. I was emotionally and physically drained; the work can do that to you. You needed all your energies to keep calm and offer help and hope to people in different forms of pain and different states of agitation.     

That day, I decided to stay back in my office and grab a doughnut and a bottle of coke for lunch; I wasn't really hungry. Or perhaps I was too tired to go out. While eating I decided to go ‘face-booking'.

And that was when I met her. A friend request. I was reluctant at first, I hadn't seen her before but I saw we had a mutual friend- a close friend of mine. Soon curiosity overcame me and I accepted the request.

Now one year later, I still smile at the memory of that day, of that moment; that moment of contemplation and inner debate- you see I'm a very private person and I don't make friends easily, ‘'closed up'' you'd say. That singular moment, that singular decision changed my life.

Funny how your life can change at the  click of a button…..

Zaphnathpaaneah

011112

Touch me not!

  The touch-me- not plant, mimosa pudica, derives its name from a Latin word that means shy or shrinking.  It closes at any touch, whether man or insect. I remember the first time I discovered the plant- way before I learnt about it in biology class, I was fascinated by it. In biology, it is one of the self preservative instincts that characterize life.

I used to be a “touch me not” homo sapien. I avoided any human contact especially any that had the potential of developing into a deep and meaningful relationship, both with males and females. I couldn’t bear to be hurt or betrayed or feel disappointment. I relied on no one and trusted no one. I spent most of my growing years and early adult life alone; it was safer that way, I wouldn’t hurt anyone nor be hurt by any. It was a no risk life. I had this iron wall around me that kept people out, and I kept the gate close always and didn’t allow anyone in.

Things began to change when I met this particular lady, who refused to be shut out; she cared enough to repeatedly knock on the door and when it wasn’t opening, scaled the wall and gained access to my heart. At first it was scary, I didn’t know what to do but then it began to feel good; letting someone in was not such a bad thing after all. I experienced the joys of sharing, of confiding in someone and bonding. I realized for the first time, how lonely I was, and that rather than living, I was hiding.

Next came the thing that I feared most- heart break. It was painful, and traumatic and almost unbearable. How did ‘honey’ turn to ‘wormwood’? I was reminded why I had shielded my heart from people all along. But as the hurt lessened, I began to reminisce on the happy memories and realized that those were the best days of my life. The pain I was experiencing was a confirmation of how much joy I had derived from sharing my heart with someone. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that hurt came by, it is an inevitable part of life, and that shouldn’t keep me from living.

So, I decided not to shirk or shrink or hide from human contact; I wasn’t going to be allow the fear of getting hurt deprive me of experiencing the joys of sharing and fellowship. I wasn’t going to close my heart or build a wall around me; I would be accessible and I would give people a chance to know me and be involved in my life, and I in theirs.

Now, I have great friends, who I will forever be grateful that I met. They have contributed immensely to my life; I am a much better person because of their influence. I can’t imagine not having them in my life. Yes, I have been hurt many a times, I have been disappointed (luckily, not been betrayed) and felt pain from the people that I allowed in but that’s what makes it more satisfactory; the pain makes the joys meaningful, and I learn from them. The truth was I wasn’t living when I hid away my heart, I merely existed. Now, I have a chance to impact and contribute to people’s lives and I can have mine influenced positively. It’s such a beautiful thing.

Hiding away isn’t always better than opening up. The hibiscus flower allows its nectar to be sucked by bees and in  the process, its pollen are harvested and propagated leading to cross pollination and the breeding of healthier offspring which resist extinction. It is bright and colorful, and lends a cheer to any environment it is found in.

Zaphnathpaaneah

011112

The Unveiling

  The door opened and there she was, walking down the aisle towards him, each step carefully placed in front of the other. She had chosen a more traditional style with a high neckline and long sleeves, with a floor length skirt and embroidered bodice. It was simple and she looked absolutely stunning. Only she could wear something so simple elegantly. She was fumbling with the skirt and raised it with both hands to walk properly while the chief bridesmaid gathered her train behind her. The music was playing softly and there was a general bustle as several heads turned towards her.

He could tell the moment she saw him, although her steps did not falter, there was a subtle spring to her steps like she was gliding towards him. He could not see her face through the layer of white lace that covered her eyes but he could tell she was smiling and he knew that her eyes were twinkling like they always did whenever she was excited about something.

He watched her make her way slowly towards him and he was awed at how beautiful she looked. He remembered thinking the same thoughts four years ago when he first saw her, and his mouth had hung open just like they were now.

He had been in front of the library talking to a friend, who was coming out from the library while he was going in. He remembered he had been mildly irritated at the intrusion; he had an important exam the next day and all he could think of was the volumes of pages to be covered and here he was listening to his friend talking about the premier league match of the previous day. His friend was giving him a summary of the match as he had missed the match himself. He was listening half mindedly looking for the best way to ditch his friend who was getting excited with each word.

Then he saw her.

She was walking down the stairs alongside two of her friends each on either side of her. She had been laughing in a carefree manner at something the lady on her right had said, throwing her head backwards revealing the delicate skin on her neck. Her voice had carried to where he was standing and it enveloped him, delightful to his ears. He had remembered thinking that he would be a lucky man if he were to hear that laughter every day of his life.  

Then she had looked at him at that moment with those light brown eyes which were twinkling and he had felt like she could see into his soul and read his thoughts. Abruptly, her laughter died and her eyes lingered on his for a second longer and he felt a tingling sensation all the way down his spine to his toes, and he suddenly felt hot. She looked flustered too, as she quickly averted her gaze and stared at her legs as she made her way past him.

It was then he realized that his friend had stopped talking and he struggled to recall what he had said. When he finally looked at his friend he was chuckling softly and moments later burst into a roaring laughter that made his cheeks all hot. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as he realized that he had just been caught ogling a girl in public. His friend was saying something about him finally being interested in a lady but he was still trying to wrap his head around the meaning of that zing of electricity that had run through his body and still making his nerve endings sing.

Moments later, when he was settled in his chair in the library, he had been unable to concentrate on the book opened before him. All he could see was the way her eyes lit up when she laughed and the way her yellow top had clung to her body and accentuating her curves. What he couldn’t shake was her penetrating gaze that seemed to reach into the deepest part of his soul making him feel exposed and bare. He knew then that he had to see her again. He had to get to know her.

It had taken about a year to get her to date him, and another year before she said ‘yes’ to his marriage proposal.

She was walking down the aisle towards him now, and he thought to himself how lucky he was to have found someone he could call his soul mate. Yes, Lucy was his soul mate. She was almost at the altar now….

And then she was standing next to him in front of the altar. He was smiling sheepishly when he lifted the veil from her face. Yes, there was that twinkling in her eyes as she smiled back at him, conveying in that one smile her deepest affection and love. His heart constricted and he knew he was the luckiest man alive. He never thought there could be such love as she has shown him till now but he could see in her eyes the promise of more. The exchange of vows came and the service passed quickly and it was time to kiss the bride.

He leaned forward and held her face in his hands and kissed her softly and in that one kiss the promise of something magical when they were alone. She seemed to be replying him with her kiss too. And then she moaned softly, barely imperceptible but he felt it deep in his belly. He couldn’t wait to be alone in the room with her…..

The room began to be dim and he could only see her outline like a silhouette against the light…

He felt a hand on his bare chest caressing him gently and moving down towards his belly and felt his body respond in a primal way. With half open eyes he leaned across to kiss her, whispering her name, rolling it on the tip of his tongue, tasting its sweetness…

Then the hand stopped. He opened his eyes squinting against the light that was streaming in through the slit in the curtains.  Staring back at him with narrowed eyes was his newly wedded bride, naked from the waist up with her hands supporting her head and the other balled into fist on his tummy, close to his solar plexus….

‘’who is Lucy?’’ she asked…….  

Zaphnathpaaneah
291012  

looking inwards: the journey to finding purpose

In the quest for greatness, success and purpose, most people usually do not know how to go about it. Buried in each one of us is that burning desire to leave an impact in the sands of time, to exit with a bang.

Most people feel unfulfilled and live daily with a yearning for something better and we ask ourselves "is this all there is to life?" or we wonder "why am i here?". Most often than not the answer eludes us.

Some give up and become content with living one day to the other, others attempt to find a sense of purpose in defining their own version of success and greatness which ultimately leads to more dissastifaction and confusion. Still there are others that look to religion and forces outside of them. They search but they get it wrong because they are looking in the wrong places.

Finding purpose, living the fulfulling life, achieving greatness and making an impact all comes from within. What we need to do exploits is buried within our core. it is that yearning we feel, it's that source of disatisfaction that makes us yearn for more.

Most of us look for the inspiration outside, we look to others and around us for guidance but we are our own inspiration, our own wellspring. Quoting from the Bible, a famous sage said "i will look up unto the hills from whence cometh my help..." and we are so quick to take this statement as absolute truth that our sucess and inspiration are from a higher power.

Recalling stories told of exploits and purposeful lives of great men it is quite apparent that these men had to look Inwards to find that inner strength that pushed them to make history. Moses at the red sea: he was in a dilemma and he cried unto God. What did God tell him? "why are you crying unto me? Tell the israelites to move forward.....stretch the rod that is in your hands...".

In other words God said "stop wasting your breath..go do something! And Moses, what you need to overcome is right in your hands!". The rod in Moses' hands had become God's mode of bringing salvation to His people, only he(Moses) had not realized it! But when he did, that rod went on to do many marvellous things in his hands.

Gideon, the great warrior in declaring war against the syrians shouted "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon" and this while holding just a pitcher and a lamp! This was after God had shown him some signs and led him into the enemies camp to show him what He has put inside of him. And when Gideon realized this, victory was inevitable. The list is endless.

Putting it all in perspective, are we saying God has no place? Not at all. But what God does is to give you a compass and a map with a location to finding that which he has put inside you that will help you. It is still you that has to take that journey inside and find what he has put there- that source of strength, the force of life and resources you will need.

Now taking that journey inward is not as easy as it sounds. The road is rough, filled with constant distractions.

First is the fear of what we will find: will it be according to what we had been thinking was our life's mission all along? Most times what we take as life goals or as the definition of success is far from what we are meant to achieve.

Second is the fear of greatness. Somebody noted that our deepest fear is not that of inadequacy but that we are powerful beyond measure. We do not want to believe that we have greatness inside us or that we are capable of greatness. Most times we define ourselves by the events of the past or the mistakes and mess ups of the past or what people tell us or how they see us and we conclude that we are no good and that nothing great can come out of us.

Third is impatience. The journey inward is painstakingly slow and most times we do not know where and how to start. We do not know what to look for. And we are in a haste to achieve greatness and there are so many alluring shortcuts. Sadly all end in frustration.

Many today wake up everyday with no sense of direction, all that guide them are daily routines which lack meaning. Many cannot answer the question of "who am i?" and most times define themselves by their job or title or possessions. We are much more than that! We are unique, made for a purpose.

Not finding this makes life dull, boring and meaningless. It is then easy to follow people's ideologies and develop passion about someone else's philosophy. We become slaves in our mind and follow blindly anyone that seems to have an idea of what life is all about. Then fanaticism, sychophancy and blind zeal is born. "in the absence of vision, the people perish". When there is no insight to who we are, no illumination about why we are created, no sense of direction as to which path to take in life, there will be destruction.

Many seek someone to tell them what to do and how to lead their lives and give them a life purpose all because they have not learnt to take that journey inward. Taking a journey inwards makes us to know who we are, our strengths and weaknesses, our talents and potentials, what drives us and what we are passionate about. It strips us of cultural impositions, family and societal expectations and demands. It breaks the hold of conforming to others' ideals or image of who we are and helps us to stop living a lie or living to please people.

Then we will become true to ourselves and embrace our uniqueness and harness our potentials and become great and make an impact. Then life becomes a joy, zest for living returns and life becomes meaningful and fulfilling. Stop looking outward, look upward for directions and look inwards to find yourself, take that painful journey and when you do, your life will definitely be different and you will live a purposeful life.

A date with madness

 I laughed to myself and talked to my new found, long lost friend Charles. Charles and I were best of friends in primary school but we lost touch ever since then. He has really changed, now he is jovial and mischievous! Oh the things he tells me. Just now he was telling me how he was arranging with some of his friends to plan a tour for me across the globe to perform my new song. The funny thing is that I am no artist! In fact, I am tone deaf. I know he was just pulling my legs. Sometimes he would be running a commentary on my action in a sing song manner and would make me reel with laughter. But I get worried sometimes, because he wouldn’t allow me to concentrate on tasks. Not that it matters anyways, I don’t really enjoy doing anything anymore, Charles keeps me company all day.

I noticed people staring at me and I wonder why. I asked Charles why people were staring but he seemed to be pre-occupied because I could hear him muttering to some people, who I wasn’t familiar with. The sun was high overhead and I was getting hot and sweaty, and my throat was feeling a little dry. I began to wonder when we will get to where we were going. I was getting uncomfortable, lately, Charles has started becoming distracted a lot, and there are times like now when I hear him muttering to other people.

To tell the truth, I was becoming jealous. He was now finding my company monotonous or boring, whereas I was totally enjoying his. The most annoying thing is that I couldn’t hear a word of what they were saying, so that I’ m completely cut off from their discussion. Now I am beginning to think they might be discussing me amongst themselves. The thought sent a roiling in my insides; I couldn’t imagine Charles betraying me that way.

Just then, I heard them laughing and for the first time, I heard a whiff of what they were laughing about. One of the other unknown had made a comment about the size of my head and to my surprise, Charles was laughing too. Another one was making another comment but I didn’t want to listen, I put my hands to my ears and turned back and was running back home.

I heard Charles voice protesting that we weren’t there yet, and that there was something interesting he wanted to show me but, I couldn’t bear the sound of his voice and I ran faster.

Back home, I hid my head under the pillow and wept. I felt humiliated and embarrassed and above all betrayed. My emotions were in a jam; a mixture of sadness and disappointment and anger. How could Charles? He knew that I had always felt that my head was too big and it was him that had made me come to terms with my looks saying that I was perfect the way that I am. How could he now turn around and join the stranger- though friends of his- to mock me, and on such a sore subject. Yes, Charles had really changed. Obviously, he is now one that could use a friend’s weakness to taunt him. I felt really disappointed in him.

I stayed in bed all day and all night not wanting to talk to anybody, the light in my bedroom was switched off- it was a dark day. I was not interested in eating or drinking or even standing up from where I laid down. My sleep was poor that night and I kept waking up intermittently, only to fall back into a fitful sleep. I kept having this recurring dream where my head was the size of a giant melon and Charles and his friends were rolling on the floor laughing at me.

I woke up the next day feeling tired and not any better. Then Charles was around, speaking to me softly and gently. At the sound of his voice, the memories came flooding and with it a white hot anger. I shouted at him to get away from me and in anger threw the pillow against the wall which caught the wall clock on the far side of the room. The wall clock came crashing down to the floor and the glass shattered. This further fueled my anger.

For a while Charles was silent, but not for long. This time it wasn’t soft or gentle, it was loud and dripping with malice. He said mean things to me; he mocked me and said a lot of demeaning things. I tried to ignore him but it was almost impossible. It was like his presence was everywhere in the room and I was beginning to get claustrophobic in the room. I had to get out of the room, I thought to myself.

With the thought, I jumped to my feet and ran out of the room. I passed my mother on the way to the door and she looked at me strangely, a mixture of fear and worry in her eyes. But there was something else, something I couldn’t place. I suddenly became self conscious and Charles voice came barging into my thought, he was saying I had a very large head. Maybe she was staring at my really large head. Was it mockery or disgust that I saw in her eyes? How can a mother join others in mocking her own child? I was livid. I suddenly felt a strong urge to hit her, and I was on the verge of doing that when I caught myself. How could I ever think of hitting my mother? My mother!

All of a sudden, I was filled with shame. I was ashamed at myself for ever thinking of hitting my own mother. And for the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to hate someone. I hated Charles in that moment. I realized that her mouth was moving and that she must be saying something. I only caught the last word “horrible’’. Even my mother thought I was horrible. I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I rushed out of the house not having a particular destination in mind. It didn’t occur to me that I had not showered nor changed my cloth. What did it matter anyways?  It wouldn’t change the fact that I was ‘’horrible’’.

As I walked along the streets, I discovered that everybody was looking at me and they huddled in groups making fun of me. Even the young children playing on the roadside were snickering and giggling casting sideway glances at me.

I couldn’t bear it anymore, and I began to shout at the top of my voice.

‘’This is me. This is me. What are you staring at? Am I not human like you?’’ and then the need to prove my humanity became overpowering and I began to remove my cloth till I was stark naked

‘’Now you can stare all you want’’ I shouted

Then the voice came again, low but with such force ‘’you are mad. Just look at yourself’’

At the same time, I heard her voice; it came as a shrill cry, filled with so much pain and agony

‘’Somebody help me! My son has gone mad’’

I looked back and saw my mother half naked on the floor weeping…..