Taking Risks

original_98306873

I have taken many risks. I can’t remember when I became a risk-taker or for that matter when fear started to encroach upon my horizon and make me hesitant… I lost my sense-of self for a time… taking risks.  I became so bogged down in the consequences of my blind risk-taking, taking risks I didn’t even realise were such until retrospect as it characteristically does, stepped in with its hindsight-wisdom. I took risks and I paid the price of impulsivity and I lost my way for a time… I lost my way whilst being unaware of where it was I was going… I didn’t know the location, the destination was unknown and the purpose of the journey was hidden from me… veiled… unclear. I lost my way and became entrenched in the things one becomes entrenched in… and they broke me down… living ‘where they wild things are’. I finally learned to mistrust, after brightly claiming I wasn’t given to such, and became enmeshed in things that eroded my vitality… and left me crumbling… I tried to grasp that glowing ember; that fast extinguishing flame; that flickering pilot inside me, that recognised that I have a soul… that which responded to the right words… hidden within the mindy-riddle of his broken world. I ultimately crumbled and began to come apart, my tortured mind began to bear the brunt of my battered heart. I took a risk. I fled, I wandered, I tried to hold fast to who I’d been, I strove to go forward to who they said I should have been. I struck out into the unknown, casting off into the abyss…

I took the risk that He would catch me and… He did.

inna lillahi wa inna lilayhi raji’un

I dreamed of you and when I dreamed of you you circled me, as you always do
You were there but absent, your presence present, as it always is…
Your scent and your shape…
In the corner of my field of vision, as you always are

And you chased me down… hot pursuit, relentless… like you always did…
Slipping away, retreating somewhere I can’t follow, as you always have

And I tried to reach you but you were gone, had to say I loved you but you’d passed on, couldn’t breathe without you and I couldn’t scream…
Eight weeks straight of crying

It was just a dream.

My breath comes fast and shallow; your image on the screen,
Standing in a valley dressed in khaki green,
Preaching noble conquest but it’s just obscene

It was just a dream

Need to tell you I love you, need to just come clean
Tell you I forgive you… for what it means,
Still long to hold you for all that it would mean,
Still scared to know you,
Still scared to show you my heart’s beating

It was just a dream

Hayya ‘ala-l- falah

I remember waking in the still-dark early morning… becoming aware of its melodious pull as consciousness slowly resumed. I smiled involuntarily in the sleepy warmth of the unlit room as the stirring call reverberated in the hollow of my chest.

Even now the memory evokes the same glad euphoria that washed over me and ran through every inch of every cell of my body… a blissful awakening… an unexplained elation and gratitude at having woken to it once again.

It called me and I felt it.

Something deep inside me recognised it, though I didn’t know it then… though I neither understood nor sought to understand its message or the significance of those unfamiliar syllables … of those poignant beckonings, which resonated with that force that lives within… with that self, submerged and subdued by life, physicality and the wandering lostness of the thinking mind.

It called me home… called me, though I knew it not, to my life’s purpose…

It called me from sleep and to success.

Homecoming

img_0088Homecoming; not as straightforward as I envisioned, no seamless re-entry to this place… to this existence, which I once fled. Fleeting glimpses of the person I was prior to setting out give me reassurance and hope…

The grey waves break on the grey shore and the skyline, shrouded by grey mist, makes this familiar place seem otherworldly…The journey itself seems surreal; dreamlike, and the people encountered seem remote; almost as remote as those to whom I now return… return, changed yet somewhere deep inside no different.

The sense of reawakening is strong, overwhelming at times… a reconnection to the innate self, lost sight of along the way… seeing myself in those friends of old, in long-buried memories that startle me out of the blue; unsure of how to reconcile that self I once was, transformed if not entirely altered… the need to reconnect with that youthful authenticity and to somehow merge with it without jeopardizing who I have become…

The simplicity of the past and the lessons of the journey and the metamorphosis have left me akin to two beings; one naïve, uncertain, optimistic and seeking something unknown, one a traveller wearied by the road yet restless still.

Return… the meeting of an old self and old friends… grown serious.

The struggle to reconnect with who I was, without slipping back into how it was… when I longed for adventure… the disquiet and the lurking fear of settling and mediocrity pushing me on… propelling me forwards inwardly, striving to amalgamate these disparate aspects of self… striving for wholeness and to be centered… to let go… to relinquish the heavy excess baggage and retain the truths I now know… not to be swept back into the tide of mindless, complacent conformity.

Risk