When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of a cosy house nestled amidst tall trees, overlooking a stream or a spring. There was no fence to box me in, and the walls were made of glass. A small pebbled pathway led from the patio to the water’s edge. The Patio had wooden beach chairs crassly painted in off-white, surrounding a small coffee table. It was my little pretend life, and I loved every bit of it.
Ideally, I would be dressed in a flowing, pure linen dress, curled up in one of the chairs with a book and a steaming hot cup of coffee. In this reverie of mine, the clouds were ashy and the breeze cold— not the frigid harmattan kind—humid like the coolness that drapes the earth when a rainstorm threatens. Everything around me might be chaotic, or nearly so, but I would be oblivious, lost in the pages of the book.
These days, I think differently. When I imagine my ideal life now, I no longer long to be caught in that in-between state. I no longer want to be the girl lost in her own world and craving oblivion just because she wanted to escape the world around her. I no longer want to be the girl who was surrounded by the beauty of the world and the beauty in people, yet unsure how to enjoy it. I no longer want to be the girl suspicious of everyone around her. I no longer want to be too careful, too worried about the future, that I forget to live in the present. I’ve been that girl for a long time, and I haven’t succeeded in protecting myself from the ills of people or the tragedies of life.
It is true that when you stay in the dark too long, light becomes a disturbance. I understand the paradox of holding on too tightly to something. You become obsessed with the illusion that you’re protecting, and instead, you lose sight of meaning and reason. You build a wall too tall and too strong with no way out. A wall that shuts people out and locks you in. It becomes a prison that steals your life and robs you of liberty.
I’ve had a great excuse for the severely stoic, arguably pessimistic life I’ve led: I grew up way too fast, endured one horror too many, and lost my light far too early. All my life, I lived with the conviction that life was one great tragedy after another, and one had to accept it militantly. The rare pockets of goodness that came my way were treated circumspectly: ‘you can’t let yourself be too happy because when tragedy comes knocking, it would burn your world. Don’t sip those happy moments, scarf them down like a starving hunter’s dog. Never savour them, it would hurt too much when the next tragedy forces in.’
The next tragedy would come, and it would break me still. My resolve was as good an anchor as a stump was for a ship. With every heartbreak, I built a wall taller than the last. I found a way to cope: make everyone around me laugh, develop a sharp taste for sarcasm and a flair for the dramatic. It helped me breathe a little, but not too much. Never too much.
To be surrounded by love and happiness is not quite the same as finding happiness. But all the world is a stage, and I was darn good at playing pretend.
I was comfortable in the darkness that slowly eroded my soul, and the lens with which I philosophised was grim and tainted. I don’t have the pages to tell you all about it, but when I was at my lowest, I found love and friendship with God. His words fed my soul and healed my wounds, and still do. I read that the eye is the lamp of the body: if your eye is well, your body will be full of light; but if it is tainted, your body will be full of darkness. And if the light in you is darkness, how great is that darkness? I read: “Come unto me all you who are weary and heavily burdened and I will give you rest.” I now see life as an opportunity to live fully and boundlessly in the light of He who is light. It has changed everything.
Now, I want to be the girl who bears the heat of the sun without diminishing its beauty. The girl who sees the starry sky at night and notices the gentle curve of Orion’s bow, the stretch of Andromeda’s chain, the slope of Cassiopeia’s throne. I want to be the girl who never apologises for her animated laughter, her bouncy gait, the alto of her voice, her newfound faith, or the passions she holds dear. I want to be the girl who no longer fears the storm but weathers it, who revels in those little pockets of goodness, who is unafraid of falling because she knows she can rise again. I am becoming that girl, taking the world by storm, one day at a time.
To my friends who have walked through straits you cannot explain: let Him find you, let Him whisper His Love to you, let Him heal you and restore your light. It is worth everything in this world—and beyond.
No More Playing Pretend For Me, I’m Ready To Live Out Loud….. and if you are too, then please leave a comment or feel free to reach out! let’s know how you’re taking control of your life this year, my love——https://www.justhummingbird.com/contact-me/ or here-https://stats.sender.net/forms/e7ly1a/view