Memories screech in circles, Memories lived, memories not lived. For memories not lived I see a beauty of what could be, I behold a promise not made. Memories lived and felt remain Deep in the heart with outpourings of affection. These affections offer a promise not made Of memories not lived. As the downpour ensues I hold onto both memories. As the billows intensify I hold on tightly with all my strength.
Auto-walking. Layers concealed, hidden within. A walk embarked, control lost in-between. Auto-running. Stomps to ground, impact unfelt. The chest tightens, climactic finale, panting ensues. Auto-flying. Back on cushion, breath set loose. A moment of rest, grips let loose, sensitivity heightens.
I look to you. I look to you. I look to you. My words rise and fall, pressured by weights too heavy. When words fail I look to you. Let your word carry what I can't. Your word pierces soul and spirit, judging thoughts of the heart. My words rise and fall. Let your word carry what I can't. Your word is alive and active, turning darkness to light. Your word is alive and active, creating things not yet seen.
O wandering heart of mine, I trace your tracks up this hill but I do not see where you go. Day and night you wander, paying little heed to burnout. Across all entrances and exits you dash simultaneously, drifting unreservedly. I trace your movements but only find traces of questions you leave behind. I cannot understand your tracks, they are unimaginably complex. I cannot number your steers, they are infinite in number. You disperse in prideful splendour to flounder in collective shatter. Your pride-filled ways mislead, moving but going nowhere precise. Your words are multi-minded, yet you push to enforce your will. You wail with outbursts of desire, yet, en route your solo dash, you desire nothing ultimately meaningful.
To turn my hurt to life. I sit and contemplate. Could it be, a reason for every hurt, every mixed conflict, moment of pain, sorrow and disillusionment, is eternal glory? Eternal glory that outweighs hurt and transforms to life? I pause and contemplate. I try to fix my eyes on what is eternal but struggle. Lord, be a banner over me and take me to the place you want me. Like a leaf that falls and dillydallies mid-air, I too dream to land on gentle waters, that purify the soul and unravel a renewed horizon of hope onto a new day.
Why did this happen? This happens, that happened. I don't understand why that happened. I would be fooling myself, speaking out of utter arrogance if I claimed to understand why it did. If my choice was mildly out of place, I would be in a different place now. A different place may produce a different outcome, a different outcome may produce a different life. What if I made a different choice? In my pursuit of truth, I stumble upon a realisation of human finitude. I don't get to make all choices so I don't get to see all things. I don't get to see all things so I don't get to know all things. I feel humbled as I return where I started. I'll no longer ask why it happened, I'll simply acknowledge that it did.
I wonder what it is about desire that swivels within layers of layers. I unfold and unfold but I find more layers. I contemplate upon these layers but I find unfolding questions. Were I to put into words what I see, I would remain stuck in a standstill. Yet desire ravages on the inside, yearning to be expressed. I lay me down in silence and stillness of thought. I hold onto what I do not see. I say to myself, I will wait for you.
I am pleased to have been featured on the Black Future Dr Podcast, where I discussed my research experience and African/black identity. See the link below to listen:
Identity is a key interest of mine, and unsurprisingly, a theme I like to discuss with people. In this interview, I discuss with Olaoluwa, who shares her personal experience of growing up in the UK. We also discuss issues of belonging in everyday life and more. Click on the link below to watch our discussion.
Though most days feel like a blur presently, it does not feel so long ago since I started my PhD study. For readers who may not know, my PhD research is on Nigerian Student Experience, and I currently explore themes of identity, belonging and performance among Nigerian students.
Now, back to my short post!
2020 was a difficult year for me, because I lost track of my work-rhythm and had to fight to find a new rhythm of productivity. I had difficulties reading, writing and understanding; I struggled to find any kind of mental clarity to process my thoughts succinctly.
In that season of struggle, I learned it was important to turn up consistently and try to push my research forward with every ounce of energy I did not have, despite the challenges I faced. I ‘did not have’ any energy because I felt incredibly drained in the process, but I made progress, with continuous effort. I have to thank my amazing family, supervisors, pastor and friends for their support, because their time, counsel and love made (and continue to make) a huge difference to my wellbeing, stability and productivity.
I am currently in my third year of study, and I wish to express how incredibly thankful I am, for the privilege I have to do what I do. I am thankful to have ideas and abilities worthy of use, and I am thankful to research on a subject I enjoy so much!
I am learning, still, to persevere and turn up persistently; I am learning to live by faith and not fear; I am learning to remain grateful and give thanks to God in all situations.