The Flow

I apologise for my longer-than-expected hiatus from sharing my musings out here. My ink had run dry in the aftermath of a major decision. I’ve tapped in to a new pot, finally, and couldn’t wait to put the cathartic pen to paper.

The past couple of years have brought a real mix of people my way. More stones and fake diamonds than the real deal in a very big pile of hay. While sifting through, one too many unsavoury and unscrupulous encounters made me want to come up for air. In a series of developments, the oxygen level was picked for me.

In what could be classed as a “life event”, I made the decision to move back to the land that gave birth to me. A place that brought me up, opened my eyes to the differences and sameness of human beings, teaching me humility, curiosity, and kindness early on. A place that gave me a sense of belonging… and then, like a spurned lover, turned its back on me. Strangers now, we are warily reacquainting ourselves. In the midst of that rediscovery, human relations must also be managed—not just in this 'new' land, but in the one I left behind.

Trying to catch up with those who had touched my life over the years, whether on a bike, a yoga mat, the gym floor, or over coffee, theatre and meals—it was important to me to let them know about my decision in person. The parting refrain was inevitably: “how does it feel?!”

How does it feel? There hadn’t been much time to dwell on that, as I set about packing up 15 years of life into 7 boxes (and 3 suitcases and 1 laptop bag) with more than double that number going to select charities. I felt nervous, for sure. Uncertain? A little bit. Any change brings that about, along with an equal dose of excitement. I decided to latch on to the latter. And so I embarked on this “adventure”, keeping Bob Marley’s words as my anthem for the first few days. Every little thing, is gonna be all right.

The melody quickly faded in the cacophony that was my new reality. Every little thing is a challenge! Does it have to be…? I was determined to settle into my new life and adapt in a matter of days. The familiar faces expected no less. The new ones didn’t think any different—the colour of my skin is misleading, after all. ?The universe, however, had other plans for me. It apparently wanted me to slow down and learn some lessons along the way, blessing me with a freak fracture on my little toe (of all the bones it could settle on), that incapacitated me for weeks. The smallest hinges move the biggest doors. Unable to walk, one of my biggest perceived problems of ‘how do I go from point A to B out here’ was forcibly parked. Along with my one respite: working out. How cruel!

Rather than accept that bizarre throw of the dice though, I chose to resist the course it set for me. Naturally. I was on a timetable after all—first stop: getting used to this new life in a month, two tops (despite a dear friend advising me to give myself a year). Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light! The stronger my determination to acculturate, the muddier the waters grew.

It was only recently that I managed to tap into some stillness in all that thrashing about, and found myself floating to the surface, if only for a brief moment. That was when I saw the light. The travel from point A to B on a soul level only happens when I allow the rhythm of the universe to pave the way. Mastering the waves is the only way to rise above. Step one is to give in to the flow. And not fight it. Especially not with a broken toe.

These are new currents; they may look deceptively familiar, but each carries its own surprises. I need to learn the waves before I can ride them. So now, I must go with the flow—through the rushes and gentle nudges, through many dunkings, draggings, and tamings, through pulls and pushes, submergences and emergences alike—and trust. Trust, trust, trust, that every little thing will be all right.