Author: Simone

Change can be a challenging concept; especially when you don’t know what the he** you are doing! Fear is the worst defense you can make, when you thought someone else would have made things easier for you by clearing a path that you can see into eternity and beyond.

There is a poem that I wrote ten years ago (Yeah… digest that fact) I recently found it, and I believe it is very relevant when we think about personal growth. I will insert it here:

Malum discordiea

  Media Vita in Morte Sumus

Lily had been in that garden,

Where the waters flowed endlessly…

Where the green grandeur of the vegetation,

Soothed the mind and soul.

Then one day, without warning,

She jumped on a rickety rollicking raft,

Along with the slimy traitor;

Who’s eyes hypnotized and blinded.

Lily felt so nice going down on that raft-

The wind in her hair,

As the resplendent beauty of what she was leaving behind, swirled by;

Leaving her dizzy with joy.

The ride ended though, in a whirlpool of decay.

The traitor has been ordered to crawl always,

Wandering.

And Lily,

For her crime,

Has been sentenced to everlasting misery….

Malum discordiae= Latin for “apple of discord”

Media vita in morte sumus=Latin for “in the mist of our lives we die”

My reaction to this poem after so many years: how depressing! And trust me it is depressing, if that is all you focus on. There are some good lessons to take from this also.

Lilly was a novice who obviously was not prepared for all the world had to offer. Good and definitely bad.

But if Lily truly had a vision of what she wanted to accomplish. If she truly understood who she was and her purpose, things would have turned out differently.

She obviously had no fear of charting her own course. Of taking a risk especially when things seemed questionable. And sometimes we need to say, enough is enough, and move forward with courage.

But while we get ready to do so, we must remember that what we leave behind has helped to shape us and not everything we encounter will be for us. Unlike Lily we need to make sure that we hold the reigns firmly on this new path, that we understand that we need to look for the right sign posts to get to where we ought to be.

Lily’s only crime here, is that she was not been adequately prepared for the journey. She had nothing. Especially not her common sense. Her hair blew with the wind but she did not bend with it. And so we know that Lily did not make it.

Let’s hope that as we grow and evolve because life changes; we can bend with the wind when we have to do so. We can remember that even evolving is a process that takes time, not a quick sprint…

I woke

up

I eat

take a bath

get ready for work.

I work

hard.

I work long

talk

a little

eat

a little

laugh

a little.

I am a walking, talking, breathing cliche.

I fold my clothes just so

no more.

I turn to get the perfect light.

I wear my clothes

straight from the runway

in my closet.

created by designers

with an electrotype agenda.

You can’t spot me in the crowd.

I am the crowd.

My body must be this big.

No more.

My voice should not carry

beyond my throat.

It’s better to suffocate than embarrass.

I was presented with a canvas the other day

had no idea what to do with it

there was no manual.

I threw it away

picked up a book

made me so wise.

It said,

‘Live your best life’

‘You can do it!’

so I hopped on the bus to get there faster.

But when the bus reached its destination

I did not see my ‘best life’

I still did not know what I could do.

Had it been the wrong bus?

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

Robert Frost

It is almost 34 years later since that mother with her family was assisted by an eager teenage Sappo, who found them a house to rent and a mobile cart, to this new home. A home, which was found from fear, but later created with hope and a need to start over. Though the experiences over the past years have been challenging, the family has been able to weather all the storms that life has inflicted on them.

More children have been born and the once, one bedroom that they all piled into, has been extended to accommodate an ever-growing family. There has been the need for deep reflection, introspection and reconciliations. However, they have survived along that unknown road they choose to embark on, on that fateful day.

On August sixth, which is the Independence celebration for Jamaica, the family celebrated, in their own way the birth of a new nation. But also, inadvertently, the emancipation of one woman and her children from violence, to shape a future that was crafted from the ashes of their dreams. To do this they invoke the creator; and they also celebrated life by having some good Jamaican food!

The evidence of this family’s ability to be resilient is reflected in the food they were able to supply at this dual celebration. Instead of curry goat, there was curry chicken back! Instead of mannish water, there was fish tea. There was self-made roti, and of course since there was no pork or chicken to jerk, then there was jerk/roast fish. As for entertainment, there was domino and the every present music blaring in the background. All prepared and done outdoors; the only place they could be done.

So while they first arrived, like the untried voyagers they were with empty bellies, fear and the unknown, this family was able to fashion a safe harbor to weather, past, present and future storms. Even in the mist of loss they still celebrate.

It was a good day for everyone who could be there. There was food, family, music and good friends – and some who just came for the food. At the end of the day everyone left feeling satisfied that they had enjoyed themselves. And that woman sat in the shadows of an ackee tree, and saw what her choice had resulted in. She had fashioned an imperfect save harbor, from which anyone could lay an anchor or set sail if they so desired.

 

 

 

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
Robert Frost

The urgency was great on that fateful day in September 1984. For some family members it was a matter of life or death and for others, it was the end of life as they knew it. On that long ago day, a fateful decision was made by one person. Was it better to stay and possibly die, or run and probably live? Leaving what is familiar is one of the most traumatic and life altering actions any one can every make.

Imagine having seven children by the age of thirty now faced with the choice of grabbing five and leaving two  behind. Would you have made such a difficult move? This was the decision that one woman had to make almost 34 years ago. Added to this is the fact that her and her little gang, hardly know the place they were running to. What hidden dangers  lurked ‘just around the corner’? Would they be accepted? Would they be able to survive?

For that woman and her five kids and two grand kids, those may have been some of the doubts that assailed them. The uncertainty of leaving the past, for an unknown future, can be a gut wrenching experience. But she had to do so.

They arrived at her aunt; but really they had nowhere to stay. Her aunt could not accommodate them, though she understood and empathized with their plight. The night was quickly approaching and they could not afford to be caught out in the open, vulnerable to any and all dangers. they had not solved the the puzzle. Where were they to live? Their plans had only reached as far as getting a truck to take them to their destination. Not where they would stay once there.

They had burnt all bridges behind them by running. If they had to face the darkness, they would, because there was nothing of the life left back home for them to return to. This was their destiny now and they had to make the best of it. As they stood looking for some help, some sign of what to do, among them a rebellious heart cried for the return of her yesterday.

But as they stood there they would see hope in the guise of a youth, eager to act as guide and a handcart bwoy, ready to take their load. As long as they kept moving, they would find their tomorrow…

         Maya Angelou “Still I Rise”

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

 

 

When we find ourselves sinking in the filth of the world and our own narrow outlook, can we rise?

Maya Angelou certainly felt so and when we read her poem, “Still I Rise“, we see this truth. But for ourselves and our circumstances how many of us live this truth?

In the spirit of rising from the proverbial ashes, let me add this small nugget from my own reflection:

Knowing

Do you feel sorry for me?

You see me crawling through the

garbage

nostrils clogged with refuse

From those who are above me?

Do you feel my pain?

As I’m being trampled by the

vicious tongue of my critic

impaled by your vicious lies

decapitated by your superior

wisdom.

Do your bones ache,

As I go through a tunnel that

gets smaller and smaller

breaking my bones as i go?

I go,

but there is no candle lit for me.

But still i move

Despite my bones being broken

As the space continues to get smaller and smaller.

Why don’t I stop?

Give up?

Accept?

How would I know what it feels

like to win,

If I do  not get out on the other side?

We all should rise above everything that threatens to destroy us in our weakest hours.