Remind me, of what used to quicken that little heart so many years ago.
Dreamers.
Dreamers.
those out following their hearts,
they both scare and inspire me.
Inspiration.
only on days that i am not overwhelmed by unbelief,
but those are few and far between.
where did their courage come from?
their discipline? their talent?
i paved my path through late adolescence between the hedges of parental expectations and deceptive performance standards. because I forgot what it was like to walk in the wake of Frost's imagination. it kills me to see, on hindsight, just how porous those hedges were, and how the fields of wildflowers beautified the landscape beyond. yet somehow, along the way, i have found a secret little trail that wanders, turning left, and right, and even doubling back every once in a while. so for a very short time, my feet trod both paths. inexplicably, simultaneously.
explorations and journeys, being what they are, bring barriers with them. one day, having taken a left turn on the little trail, i found myself staring straight at a huge rockface that rose high above me. there was no discernible way up. there were people at the top, but i let them be. Because I was afraid, and I was being safe. so i left the trail there and continued back on that stone-paved road now hedged in by responsibilities, expectations and consequences. who knew, that roadside shrubs could ever grow into formidable walls?
i did not, because, when i was smarter and stronger and braver, i always knew i would be running carefree in and out of gardens, through bushes and over fences. never bounded, never contained.
but as i grew, my fears grew too. no one told me my dreams were special. no one ever said i was special. they said that there were giants amongst the wildflowers, they said that the cuts i'd gotten with would only get worse, and that, if i ever faced a rock wall, i would fail.
and i believed all of that.
so, little by little, that rambunctious daredevil child grew more cautious, increasingly afraid and that much more confused. and when i came to the rockface as i had, i did what so many have done before me and i did what i am cursing myself for doing - i dropped the flowers in my hand and ran back to the safety of the road.
it is here, on that road, that i carry that burden of regret. that Traveller next to me, we've walked quite a distance together, He's been so kind, and He's asked me for the burden already. but somehow, i havent yet come to the end of myself that i am ready to give it to him. i feel like its something i should carry myself - i wonder, how did He find me in both places? but anyway, He did and we're buddies now. so, after a particularly tiring season, i'm standing on that burden to look over the walls at that rockface. i stare, longingly, at those who are up there. i so wish i were one of them. i wish i never started on this path, i wish i'd made that trail my very own, i wish someone would show me how to get up there too. as i'm wishing, the burden of regret grows. it keeps growing. and i see more of the landscape over the walls.
there are huge cliffs, rushing rivers and small pristine streams. there are trees full of bright-colored fruit, cacti and thornbushes. there are those beautiful wildflowers i missed so much and, wait, are those squinty eyes staring at me?
it is an adventure out there. terrifying, beautiful and so alive.
the Traveller has said that He'd take me there, show me the sights, guide me through valleys, hoist me up rockwalls, chase out the squinty-eyed monsters and build the part of His Kingdom that He decreed for me way in advance.
now i'm interested. now i'm listening.
now, i think i can get off that huge burden (thats growing by the minute), unpack it, and hand it over.
but cautious, cowardly me has already calculated, though, that the unpacking will take a while. there's too much junk in there which i should probably sort through with the Traveller - there might be a few things He would want me to take with. but there are some things i am ashamed of... this journal for one, inside there's a story and a photo torn in half. another, an unfinished photo album i had meant to give, a memory of the person who reduced me to tears, but whose name i never knew....
the Traveller, woah, He's patient. Really patient. He waited so long for me to open that first zip...
Then, we sit together on that cool concrete path, and tentatively, I unpack the knapsack i have carried with me for so long. The walls dont matter now, the world outside those walls are a faint shimmer, and all I know is that, it is surprisingly relieving and peaceful with Him. The harsh scrutiny i imagined never materialised and even though opening up each item is hard, one by one, He is taking these broken pieces of a lifetime away from me. what He is making with them, I have no idea.. but some other people i've met tell me that He's awesomely talented at this, and i think, since we are already here together, i think i'll trust them, and i'll trust Him.
I wonder when i'll be done, and I wonder, when I will find myself on that adventure of my dream. because i cant wait to see what the Traveller has prepared for me to do.
For now, I'll sit and unpack. We've got a long way to go, best to be prepared.
explorations and journeys, being what they are, bring barriers with them. one day, having taken a left turn on the little trail, i found myself staring straight at a huge rockface that rose high above me. there was no discernible way up. there were people at the top, but i let them be. Because I was afraid, and I was being safe. so i left the trail there and continued back on that stone-paved road now hedged in by responsibilities, expectations and consequences. who knew, that roadside shrubs could ever grow into formidable walls?
i did not, because, when i was smarter and stronger and braver, i always knew i would be running carefree in and out of gardens, through bushes and over fences. never bounded, never contained.
but as i grew, my fears grew too. no one told me my dreams were special. no one ever said i was special. they said that there were giants amongst the wildflowers, they said that the cuts i'd gotten with would only get worse, and that, if i ever faced a rock wall, i would fail.and i believed all of that.
so, little by little, that rambunctious daredevil child grew more cautious, increasingly afraid and that much more confused. and when i came to the rockface as i had, i did what so many have done before me and i did what i am cursing myself for doing - i dropped the flowers in my hand and ran back to the safety of the road.
it is here, on that road, that i carry that burden of regret. that Traveller next to me, we've walked quite a distance together, He's been so kind, and He's asked me for the burden already. but somehow, i havent yet come to the end of myself that i am ready to give it to him. i feel like its something i should carry myself - i wonder, how did He find me in both places? but anyway, He did and we're buddies now. so, after a particularly tiring season, i'm standing on that burden to look over the walls at that rockface. i stare, longingly, at those who are up there. i so wish i were one of them. i wish i never started on this path, i wish i'd made that trail my very own, i wish someone would show me how to get up there too. as i'm wishing, the burden of regret grows. it keeps growing. and i see more of the landscape over the walls.
there are huge cliffs, rushing rivers and small pristine streams. there are trees full of bright-colored fruit, cacti and thornbushes. there are those beautiful wildflowers i missed so much and, wait, are those squinty eyes staring at me?
it is an adventure out there. terrifying, beautiful and so alive.
the Traveller has said that He'd take me there, show me the sights, guide me through valleys, hoist me up rockwalls, chase out the squinty-eyed monsters and build the part of His Kingdom that He decreed for me way in advance.
now i'm interested. now i'm listening.
now, i think i can get off that huge burden (thats growing by the minute), unpack it, and hand it over.
but cautious, cowardly me has already calculated, though, that the unpacking will take a while. there's too much junk in there which i should probably sort through with the Traveller - there might be a few things He would want me to take with. but there are some things i am ashamed of... this journal for one, inside there's a story and a photo torn in half. another, an unfinished photo album i had meant to give, a memory of the person who reduced me to tears, but whose name i never knew....
the Traveller, woah, He's patient. Really patient. He waited so long for me to open that first zip...
Then, we sit together on that cool concrete path, and tentatively, I unpack the knapsack i have carried with me for so long. The walls dont matter now, the world outside those walls are a faint shimmer, and all I know is that, it is surprisingly relieving and peaceful with Him. The harsh scrutiny i imagined never materialised and even though opening up each item is hard, one by one, He is taking these broken pieces of a lifetime away from me. what He is making with them, I have no idea.. but some other people i've met tell me that He's awesomely talented at this, and i think, since we are already here together, i think i'll trust them, and i'll trust Him.
I wonder when i'll be done, and I wonder, when I will find myself on that adventure of my dream. because i cant wait to see what the Traveller has prepared for me to do.
For now, I'll sit and unpack. We've got a long way to go, best to be prepared.
 |
| Manado, 2013. |
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