A THING CALLED LIFE

No one can claim to be an expert on life, we can certainly testify to our experience here, but to say we “know it all” would be a fallacy. Yes, this plane, this earth realm with all its joys and sorrows, is a school, but how does it serve us in the after life? What is the purpose of this schooling if we only ought to be here just for a time? The ancient Kemetians (Egyptians) lived their lives preparing to die. Although they had life, they communicated often with what was beyond this life and worked earnestly in preparation for the after life. They are highlighted in history in doing this, but other cultures have done this also.

Someone I know lost their father recently and the family began a squabble over who gets what. She told me that the father came to her in a dream and gave her a message about the troubling situation that was among the family. As she told me the dream, I shot up straight and interrupted her quickly and said: “You are not suppose to see him now. My God, they are interrupting his journey!” I continued to tell her that he has a journey to complete across the river and it was a rough passage. When he leaves the boat, he will be held at a holding post and cleansed there for 45 days of our time here. Time does not exist there. As I shouted this to her (with passion, I have no idea why), I saw the journey. I always see it when I get into these conversations. I saw the dark, dreary, and dismal wet setting. I saw the canoe sailing across the waters and felt the cool, cramped discomfort of the boat ride. Those who rode the boat did not think about the life they just left. This is not the way all people cross, but a large amount of them will cross this way and there is a reason for it.

Growing up I had always been contemplative about life. I could never understand why there was sadness in the world. It bothered me. I thank God for my trusty thumb which was my comforter when I was sad. Most often the sadness would come from seeing other people sad or worried. My enemy would worry for them and joined them in their sadness. I believed in the Christian God back then, I was a child born into this doctrine and for a while it served its purpose, as my wise son pointed out to me, “mommy, some people have a need to believe”. Whenever I saw people in a predicament I would call upon God and pray for them, yuh know that highly energetic, fervent Christian prayer, a greater prayer warrior than I could not be found lol.

When I grew up, leaving the safety of my parents and began to face life on my own, it was tough. The bubble I had lived in all my life, the total harshness of the world sat upon my shoulders and also I was affected even more so by the plight of others. While I had nothing as I walked along life’s way, I was never bothered by that. The material world had never impacted my mind at all. I perhaps had no ambition, in the sense that although I wanted to learn, I had a hunger and a thirst for knowledge, it was never to do anything with it. I had no desire to be a doctor, lawyer, Indian, Chief. The early pregnancy disappointed my parents, shamed them to say the least, and so I strived to earn some degree to let them see that at least I still did them proud. All of that was really for them, never for me. I had no plans for the future, my plan was just to be, yet I worried about what others wanted me to be.

All I wanted to be was happy. If I had food, a roof and health for myself and my children, in my head I thought that was enough, oh and my books. My thumb had been out of my life for quite a while now (sucking my thumb, my fingers are all still here, thank God) and I had missed its comfort, but it would have seemed silly for me to be sucking my thumb along with my children, so I gave up trying to reconnect with it, I had tried several times, I must admit.

Sometime ago I went through a personal hell. I hinted about it here on the blog and although I am very transparent here, I have yet to write about it. The wound is still raw, but its healing. I began to think to myself as I lay in bed with only the hum of the a/c for company, while staring up at a dark ceiling, my room illuminated by outside street lights and what nature provides, a thought comes to me. I have been through a lot. Had it not been for this blog and writing my truth, not caring about your judgment or even knowing who will read this, or if anyone would; had it not been for this platform, many things I now know about me, my life, my journey, my way, I would not have figured out. Yes, I am the teacher, but most importantly I am the student.

I often want my readers to comment so we can have dialogue, but it is sparse, and at times I feel like stopping. In my barely lit room, as I look up to my ceiling, I realize, there is no need to urge you to comment, this blog is really for me. It seems to be my therapy. I am happy for all who are here and participate, but what is important is that this place where I come and write spontaneously, where I joke and quarrel and analyze and share and overshare, this blog is like the therapist couch, it is for me.

Had it not been for it, my writing, my story, I would not have realized that my mother is one of my greatest teachers. She told me to leave her house and what an adventure life has been for me, a fascinating one, with many challenges, but I faced them and overcame. The wicked baby father, although to the physical eyes and looking at it from an earthly perspective wronged me and the children, he did, but spiritually, he and his wicked girlfriend and his evil mother and family woke me up and set me on my path. I would not have realized this had I not written it out. As I wrote the story, telling you all what I went through, sharing my experience in order to teach from them, the realization would come to me that all this that happened to me, was supposed to, it had to in order for me to find my way. I had something greater waiting for me.

Daily as I reflect upon life and the cloud that sometimes comes with it, I realize more and more everyday the wisdom of what is superior to us mere mortals. The sadness I felt for others while I grew as a child showed me that I had compassion, and if I had compassion for even those I had never met then I had a kind heart; and as a human being, I was here to assist my fellow beings. The enemies I have so far encountered on my journey (and counting, mi nuh know why dem nuh guh chuck off inna dem mumma) have their role to play also.

Life is a gift. We must cherish it. Always remember my people, prayer will bring you through. It is more powerful than you think. See the glass half full at all times. , it will allow you to deal with the pressures of life better, if you just keep an optimistic view. Remember to look for the lessons problems bring when faced with them, when the smoke clears all will be revealed. Share wisdom with others, you may save a life in doing this. Love yourself always, this is important. Make quick decisions, and never linger into what is not conducive to your spirit, trust your head, trust yourself. Live!

I love you all,

Obara Meji