If I wanted to
I could have held a master’s degree in psychology and been ok
Worked in the UK or UAE and been ok
Married a decent guy and been ok
Started some generic NGO and been ok
But I’d always have wondered…what if
So I jumped out of the moving train
Crashed into uncertainties
Lying there as the passengers look down on me with raised eyebrows
They crane their necks to look back at me one last time
Before the train disappears into the distance
Messy. My life is really messy. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m winging it. I spent years excavating all my buried skeletons. It got much worse. What on earth have I gotten myself into?
You know how when you decide to spring clean and take out everything you’ve been cramming into the corners, under the beds and behind doors? And there’s a moment where the sheer amount of mess, forgotten plates, lost clothes, makes you doubt your ability to clean this up. And if anyone were to see you in that stage, they’d ask you if you’ve gone bonkers?! Why are you messing things up?
I’m still digging, excavating. I’m trying to decipher my intuition. I keep throwing my heart wide open and I brace myself for the inevitable crash.
When I write, I’m doing so with a baited breath.
When I’m reaching out to someone new who’d I’d like to befriend, I do so with clenched jaws
When I ask someone a personal question to get to know them deeper, I bite my lip
When I go out despite my debilitating body complex, I hyperventilate
Every single day I’m crashing. Every day I have at least ONE embarrassing moment. Every day I do stuff despite every cell in me saying no! Don’t embarrass yourself
So why do I do it?
Because it’s only when I’m vulnerable, winging it, goofing, that I feel truly ALIVE.
I don’t want to feel OK. I don’t want to settle for OK. I want to commit to a wholehearted living.
And for each embarrassment and heartbreak and betrayal and humiliation I let through, not just simply enduring it, but really soaking in the pain to learn from it– I gain strength, and grit and creativity and love. Oh god.
My heart is so vast for loving. I’ve learnt how to go to the ends of the world for others without losing myself. And of course when I offer my unconditional, untainted love, I’m more often than not met with suspicion, cynicism. “What’s in it for you?”
Nothing? To love is an organic consequence of living this hardknock life of vulnerability. I swear 😛
To hell with goal posts, degrees, properties, partners — I want to measure my life in terms of how much uncertainty I’ve endured. How many lessons of life’s mysteries I’ve sat through, even when I’d rather run away.