The Aftermath

THE AFTERMATH

 

The only time you realise how much you've grown and changed is during conversation with an old friend"

I read that somewhere and strange enough, I related perfectly to it.

 

As I ponder through my primary and early high school photos, I am forced to deal with the reality that that little girl has disappeared ages ago!

I know I will probably say the same about myself  in 10-20 years from now!

 

The memories created back then are just as much a part of my life now as those I am still creating as the new and perhaps improved me. I sometimes dig deep and use the innocent strength of the little girl I once was to fight the battles I do today. A little unfair? Perhaps. But she was faithful. A little blind and too trusting perhaps, but she had a faith and it is that faith that I use , that I need to slay the monsters of today. To be able to stand in the midst of it all and say "I was there. I made it!"

 

I don't have much of that little girl, except memories and a faith that it too shall come to pass. It was her, it was that little girl who taught me to laugh with abandonment, cry with emotion, touch with love and handle with care. I stand today in the rubble, the mess, the aftermath and I ask her to not only walk for me, but also teach me how.

 

The Aftermath!

How did I even get here? I made a list of all the things I thought could have led me here.; all the faulty decisions I perhaps made, all the times I lied, cheated and stole. Where did I go wrong? Where did I fail? This is not who I wanted to be.1 I never planned to pan out like this!

There really is no straight answer to some of life's questions. I had a map of all the roads I took that eventually possibly led me to this burning field of impurity and regret, and I realised it wasn't going to work. I had to find a different approach.

You see, as you grow older, your reasoning changes. What I shyed away from as a child, is now open for discussion at the dinner table. What was absolutely essential back then is now packed away in a little box I hardly ever open (that's if I still have it)

 

Growth is inevitable, change is crucial, and trust is essential.

This forces me to think though; is the aftermath then not the wake-up call we all so desperately desire but are too busy fooling ourselves with a fake layer of contentment to realise how absolutely unhappy our monotony is making us?

As children, we dream of our perfect lives and plan our perfect futures. When those dreams and plans become dulled with responsibility and bills to pay, we sneak into the nearest corner and tell ourselves that we are happy with what we have...until that old friend call you up and you both start to remember what it was supposed to have been like. Then, just like me, you stand in an open veld fire and make up little stories and lies explaining why your dreams are kept in boxes and hidden compartments, why you are where you are instead of where you are supposed to be.
"But I'll come back later", the most common excuse!

 

Then you stand in a pool of flashbacks and question how you got there. Did you build your empire, or just an empire? Are you who you promised yourself as a child, you were going to grow up to be?

As you stand in the rubble, the mess, the loss, fold your map. You took the road your maturity at the time told you was best. Forget the regret and time wasted. Who are you now? Where are you? Is that little child proud? (Please do not misunderstand me. I am not asking you to quit your job in the army to become a violin player like you dreamt, or something of that sort.)

 

Me? This is my aftermath. I am a little lost, and a little confused, but that is all right. Somewhere in the rubble I will find myself . The world has broken me into a million tiny pieces, but that is fine. I'll pick them up and together we will start again. Her faith will glue me together and hand-in-hand we shall walk.