I wrote the first half of this post almost a year ago, and I stumbled upon it a couple of days ago, and what I read touched me in some way, revealing answers to questions I was currently asking myself. I hope it does the same for you.
30th May, 2014
“Do you stop because it seems futile or do you give up? Half of the time you ought to consider your actions before you perform them, the other half the time, you just act. In recent times, I think I have been doing too much of doing, there has been no real action. For every ten or twenty movements, only two or three have been by my will. The rest occurring as if one kind of tidal flow, with the events and scenarios and me; I have just been moving. No thoughts as to why or the end. Or perhaps some thought, but nearly enough.
Been willing to bring my mind back to fore, back to the power it possessed, but alas many things have marshaled against. Let me tell you something, you who reads, the person who writes now is young, younger than you’ll ever know. He is also bold, but afraid. He realizes his capabilities, but he understands Compromise and Opportunity cost, and so he hesitates to take action, afraid of limiting himself to that which he would have forgone and so for that purpose, he flows with the tide, adjusting only minutely to compensate for a drift too far off some barely discernable target. Let me tell you something, this man believes in Destiny. Wherever you are now, you’ve seen before and sometimes while that may allow us to drift, confident in the current of time and her constant guidance, if one wants to excel however, one must rush beyond. Only those who pushed beyond were found worthy. And that indeed was their destiny; to drift awhile perhaps, but to push nevertheless.
I have dreams. I also realize that they are not miracles, and even those would only be upon pressure and attempt and courage. I have ambition but realize that success is only a result of Preparations and training.
Every minute you are found with a pen in hand, scribbling, writing, letting your thoughts form words, letters that are symbols of your mind. Churning out words and inscriptions with each feeling, letting the path from mind and heart to hand and nib and souls of readers to become a beaten and worn route so well known and remembered, one may pen it in sleep. That is the idea. Scribble, scribble, word, word, letter, letter, and one’s soul is purged, emotions are set loose and the words stain sheets. That’s the idea. Ah, such a beautiful mind.”
I wrote this (above) awhile ago, during one of my more lucid or not moments. It was a trying period of my life, I was at a crossroads, and it seemed a lot of things were not sure. Even of that which I ordinarily would have chosen, it seemed the luck laid on the opposite end. Everything hung on the balance, but I had resolved to fight for my joy no matter what, but I wasn’t sure where my joy lay.
But since then, I have grown. The man who writes this today, 13th February, 2015, isn’t much older than the former, but he has matured somewhat. I realize now that I was right before, one does not simply lie in the tide and trust the current alone, one must paddle, one must push out sails and with oar in hand and boom in hold, push out into the ocean, the crinkling glass left behind at port. I decided to make something serious of myself. I decided to forgo what may or may not be opportunity cost, I realized that I cannot hope to have the answers, it is not upon me to be omniscient, but I can hope to trust and believe in my abilities and in the Power of HIM who I worship, and by supplication and diligence, work out that which would set me apart from all peers.
I am still afraid, more than ever before, the security of higher education which held me through the latter end of 2014 is at an end, and now the world yawns open again, to step into the gaping maw, knowing not whether I will find treasure and gold or if a minotaur awaits, I move. Decisions are not easier now, but I make them anyway, the path is not clearer, but I push on anyway. There is no compass, there is no map, no one has traversed my road before, but sword in hand and my faith on my back, I step forward.
When I saw this a couple of days ago, I was thinking of decisions, needed to make some. Was afraid to go back into business because it had not been so successful before. I was afraid to start the grind again, because I had fallen before. But I learned, that I have to fall. I have to fall and crash and bleed, because how I win is not by the easy route, but by the road less travelled, the path fraught with dangers; the pot of gold down not lie at the end of a rainbow, but beneath the terrible dragon.
I am courageous. I am brave. It is the only thing I can be at this moment; at this point when fear grips me in coldest vice. But I will not despair, neither will I give in to desperation and thus choose the easiest escape. I have also learned that the hardest road does not also hold the greatest or truest treasure. Happiness does not lie at the end of pain, happiness may exist from the easiest route and stay on till the end.
I have learned. I will continue to do so.
- I don’t actually have a sword. I used to have a cutlass once, but it was in secondary school and about as sharp as a spoon.
- I really am not sure about the material a pot a dragon is sitting on would be made of, but I do not think it would be clay
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GOD bless Nigeria.