Atlas carrying the world over their shoulders. I have felt that at not one, two, or even three, but many times in my life. Of late the thing that almost pushed me to the edge was my endless search for a job. After putting too much effort to get to that esteemed institution called a university so as to get a decent job only to be dropping flat on my face each tym i try to flap my wings and fly. I managed to get this 'job' with one big firm in our city. The terms of the contract was a probational period of three months then permanent employment later. For those three months the responsibilities that were bestoed upon me were one that even a kindergartten student can do. Who wouldn't manage using a bucket and rug to wipe off dust??? I bared with the situation for the three months because i saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A permanent job. Three months after, I got to realize the light was dimming then finally switched off. 'To hell with the lot' I said, and downed my bucket and rug. Better enjoying hours of rest than being missused. Been enjoying my rest from that day....but once in a while I get out in the field and see if my wings can flap and fly me away.....I still fall down flat on my face to the point of wondering if the gods have something against me.
As much as things get worse, and am pressed between a rock and a hard place, there is one thing that gives me strength. I know that someone somewhere is having it worse. When I cry of a shoe, there is someone who is in a hospital getting ready for amputation to save his life. When I'm sad I didn't get cash for lunch, I'm reminded of those in northern Kenya who are struggling with drought and have been reduced to just a shadowy shell of skeletons wrapped with skin, of those in Dar-fur whom food is not only their worry but also trying to make every breath they have not their last - hoping tomorrow will be a much better day than the former. When I wonder what to do with my excuse of a phone(trust me, its one second away from meeting its maker through murder by smashing it to the wall), I take solace in the fact that I got a gadget that can call, text, and help me communicate with friends and family.
Its written that we fall just but to get back up again. So each tym I fall, I'll get up, dust myself and go back in the field and try to flap....flap...and flap some more. Maybe the skies are not ready for me yet, but when this bird starts to fly, by Jehovah, Allah, Indra, Zeus, or whoever is in charge of the heavens, the skies better be big enough for there is no landing this.
As I wand up, lemme leave you with a few words by Sheri Reynolds
“When I've used up all my rags and lies, rope and hair, fabric and love, when I'm out of twine and my loom is broken and there's still a story in me to tell. That is when I unknot and begin the unraveling.
My rugs are never finished. I use the same materials to make them over and over again, featuring something new each time and hearing a different tale. But sometimes they speak the most wisely when they are heaps of fiber on the pack house, intermingled and waiting.
If I sit with them silent for long enough, they will talk. Just listen, I can give them tongues. They speak like prophets.”