So I'm seamingly back to square one. I am sitting on my old sofa, in my room at Wemyss Road, sick and looking at pictures of far off places and dreaming... only this time it's remembering, too. And thinking. Always with the thinking. Someone told me that that's ok, I shouldn't stop thinking, I should just try and engage my mind in the right way, that's all. I'm not sure this counts as that. Still, you spend the best part of two years blocking something out and there comes a time when you have to remember. It may not be the way I'm supposed to spend my life but it was a time when I was strong. When I was me. And let's face it, that's pretty much the only time that's ever been true. So maybe it's ok to remember; to open this box, look in, find what's still useful, dust it off and chuck the rest out. Maybe I don't need to be scared. Maybe I just need to be honest for once and stop hiding under the bloody covers- literally as well as figuratively. I don't know what God has in store for me. I don't know why I've had some of the experiences I've had but maybe it's time to trust that it will all be alright, that He's got me and He's never letting me go.
Ahhh Moby. You move my heart and bring buried dreams back to the surface. A jetty overlooking crystal clear waters. Watching with envy and hesitation as my friend jumps in. The shoals of fish swimming around the steps and in the shade. Time pressing. Strength in my heart and the feeling that I could do it. A walk in the rain, against the soon to be setting sun... down ancient steps and slipping in jungle mud. Bruised bum and that wall again, watching the flying foxes in that tree, last rays of the dying sun skipping across the water and softly touching my back. Tears. Tears when I'd realised I'd done it. Shaking legs, five years and I'd beaten it.
What was it really for? It seems like so many things stopped then. I always was searching for an end. That was a little foolish, perhaps. Perhaps if one must go searching for these things, it would be better to go searching for beginnings. But no, that wasn't it. Something deeper. I went looking for something much, much deeper. And I got lost. Lost again in the vastness of it all. I thought I was big.. I thought I was clever. I'm ashamed at my arogance- I was wrong.
I must find a way to give up this foolish lament. It's been too long now. "I don't know what God has in store for me. I don't know why I've had some of the experiences I've had but maybe it's time to trust that it will all be alright, that He's got me and He's never letting me go."
I can't block out everything I used to be, everything I still am. I can't pretend anymore. So how to move forward? This is the question.