Standing in the Quiet

I chose this title before I ever wrote a single word and yet, how I feel now is not how I felt then when the title first came to me but yet it remains apt.

Where I am currently standing feels so quiet but that’s only because it’s so loud that I have suddenly lost the ability to focus on any aspect of the noise. I’m not referring to a physical place, I’m talking about my mind.

Some days are better than others, for me that looks like great conversations with family, getting to work early and being kind to all my friends. Other days, I feel disconnected from everyone and everything. I see the time slowly pass but yet I’m unable to do anything or more like I don’t want to do anything except watch time pass away. Internally, I freak out. I mean, this is my life. I should be learning something new, being productive or at least adding value one way or the other. But, I find myself unable to move, unable to feel, just standing in the quiet.

For many years, I had my life all figured out. I knew which event would follow after one had passed and I loved it that way. In recent years, especially this year, everything has seemed to float all on its own. I can’t seem to reconcile moments or find a common thread with my experiences. One moment I’m a missionary, the next I’m a secretary and now I’ve had to see myself resort to being a Corper lawyer. I’m still grappling with the randomness of it all, still contending with standing in the quiet.

I’m worried that I take too long to integrate into new seasons. After moving into a new room, it took me about 4 months to finally unpack. Maybe because I’m ever aware that these seasons do not last or maybe I can’t seem to disentangle myself from what used to be.

As I stood overlooking the vast body of water surrounding the Marina resort, all I could think of was how fast life was consistently moving (I know I say this a lot). Yet, for me, the true emotions came the following Tuesday as I stared into the light-skinned face of sir Emmanuel. I remembered the first time I met him and all the moments after then and how life would be so different again now that he had to leave.

Pastor Odihi would always say that I loved to shrink him. It’s so funny that it’s a part of me that I’m learning to not hold tightly to. It felt like a compulsion, that need to always help, always advice, always proffer a solution. These days, I’m getting more comfortable realising that people will figure out their lives, I don’t need to hold their hands, that’s what God is for. With Pastor Odihi, friendship was different. He did more of the talking and advising and mindset changing. I love being there for people but it felt nice to have someone who didn’t need that side of me so much.

The reason I say so is because a large part of my identity is tied to my being a helper. What would life look like if people didn’t need me, Pastor Moses asked me once. I don’t have to worry about that anymore, at least not so much.

If this post has felt random, it’s because it is, much like how my life feels like these days. But I know I’m not alone in my thoughts and feelings. I know you too are consistently trying to make sense of everything. I still have family, relationship (wink wink), career and spiritual lines to straighten out but for now, I’m standing in the quiet.