With critical thoughts, we have the power to rebuild the world. - Phathu Musitha

A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life. - Charles Darwin.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Rediscovering poetry...a process


Years ago, I fell in love with poetry. It made so much sense... Now, years after opting for prose instead, I am giving it another chance. I am not following rules - I am simply writing. This is my first attempt in quite a while. The topic was not motivated by any particular experience.

When my soul died

I fell to my soiled knees and like a lost soul I just wept
My modest power was wobbly, no longer kept
In my heart, frustration had come and slept
When my soil died

All of life’s elements had turned their backs on me
Distressing feelings found a home in me
Life was an alias for burden, for goodness I could not see
When my soil died

My cries were muted long before I could even exhale
Tear after tear, a mind of victory could not prevail
The devil was at peace, for I uttered the word fail
When my soil died

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Counting my flaws

For a perfectionist I sure am not perfect. I should have paid attention to those before my time who wisely said that nobody's perfect. Be it with regards to my physical form or otherwise, I lag. Yet I'd hate to, at any point, look at myself and not distinguish some goodness, and not see beauty. When I reflect, I want to consider my misgivings. Though I do not want to give them permission to chew away at any portion of my life, for it is far too precious for that.

Because of just how valuable it is, I cannot be wasting my time worrying about diminutive issues. It is somewhat disheartening that I cannot, after countless attempts, pronounce the letter 'R'. I cannot change that I was born with two left feet and any attempt to remedy that has been nothing short of comedy. I'm so over the fact that I have a small nose, which makes shopping for sunglasses a tiring mission. I need to constantly remind myself that not everyone appreciates my brutal honesty. My impatience is my biggest critic. My wanting every single detail to be perfect annoys even me.

As an ongoing process, I am learning to genuinely and completely embrace ALL that I have in my life. This means realising that regardless of whether or not I desire my traits, God wanted for them to feature in my life story. Holding any grudges against Him would just prove futile and effectively weaken me.

Truth be told, I actually would love to reach a satisfactory point where I can earnestly say to God: "let Your will be done". I refuse to hold back any longer as I add on more years to my young life. I also don't want to be left out in the hustle and bustle, among other things.

I am now finding comfort in the ability to be grateful for the good and the bad. I have crossed one to many intersections where all I could ask God was "why me?" instead of thanking Him. I want that to stop - immediately. Appreciating His perfect timing has proven a challenge thus far.
I'm working on it.

I want to be aware at all times that in life I am not superior to anybody. I have heard that comparing yourself to someone else qualifies as an insult to God - that does make sense. I have all that I do simply because God saw it fit to bless me this much. I yearn to be happy with what He has given to me. I want to show gratitude to Him - even when I feel as though it is not enough. At the same time, I don't want to sneer when I see someone else excel. Envy is not as harmless as people make it out to be. Jealousy on the other hand is nothing but an ugly parasite waiting to take away from me. I must therefore find it in myself to be pleased for others, no matter what.

Being too afraid has proved a mammoth failure in itself. It is a way of me voluntarily, yet inactively chilling my potential. I have to constantly assert to myself that there is absolutely nothing wrong with not succeeding, provided I do not recognise the phrase "giving up". I've tried to be perfect in the past. Yet somehow, in imperfecton, I specialise.