"In this life, we cannot always do great things, but we can do small things with great love."
- Mother Theresa
If I were asked to write a memoir for November, I wouldn't think too much: I'd write of the possibility to be one thing today, and be something entirely different tomorrow – like a 7 year old who yesterday wanted to become an actor when he grew older cos' he watched a Jackie Chan's movie, and today fantasizes flying the Boeing737 en route Barcelona. Or a jambite who doesn't know that what he filled out in that form, was only a mirage, an illusion, and he was about to experience his first love making with a broken cistern, a failed country. This was my story a few months back.
I've been busy chasing demons, and I've gotten bold enough to tell which side the beast went. This blog post is written primarily to confess to you, that this writer harbored hate in his heart all through September. And I hope to gladly guide your heart into some introspection, if haply, you'd see a tendeny to become something alien, something strange.
Hate, like every other negative emotion is like a strange woman to a simple man. I mean, she feels good, and extremely wild at the same time. She's easy, and soothing like hot towels on a dry harmattan evening. She doesn't care if she's welcome to make her stay, or if there's a vacancy, or a room-to-let, she clings to undiscerning men: men who've been short-sighted to believe they're strong enough, who like Samson would simply stir themselves as at before. My reasons were justifiable, logical, and rational: just like people who use drugs (who smoke cigarettes, and marijuana, and anything that can be rolled into thin cylindrical white strips of paper) think they have a viable reason for it. I had every right to be angry at that person from the start, because people do crazy things, and people hurt people, and most introverts weren't introverts from birth: many like myself became introverts as a result of a psychological response.
My body was bold enough to enable to shield me from hurt, to help me run away from people who haven't hurt me yet, but possess an inkling to. So yeah, you see that line that separates a momentary sprouting, juvenile anger from a flourishing, blooming tree of hate: it's hardly noticeable, it's almost absent, it's seducing, and it draws you towards itself in love, and plunges you into a downward spiral that knows no end. It's a sad place to be, and I'd warn you to guard against it.
Because I know I am supposed to love people instead of the other way around, I knew something was wrong with me. After a few weeks of going round the circus, I knew I had to face the issue head on.
Sad thing is the person I hated thought I loved him; I mean there were smiles, and submission, and love feigned that could woo even the devil. But if only he could see in between those dancing lips, unwavering loyalty and hands buried behind my back, he'd have noticed a sword, ready to pounce at him the moment my heart couldn't bear it any longer.
Yes! You guessed right, as it often is with people like me, it was a long month for me, a sad one, and I continued to free fall. With every bounce off a tree branch, I learnt new things:
1. That you're hurting yourself hating on people, because these people don't even care one bit about what you think of them, and most times aren't even aware that you're overdosing yourself with negative emotions on their behalf;
2. That for those who've come to terms with the fact that they would never always be okay, these series of disastrous moments of hate only intensifies the risk of having yet another mental episode: of breaking down, and having to sulk for a long time, till Jesus finds you again;
3. That you're better off loving people, despite the million things wrong with them or how many times they've wronged you.
4. To make a resolve to become one with the fact that people would always hurt you, even before they do, and love them for it. Because the journey downwards doesn't stop, it never ends, till you finally make up your mind to stop falling (of course it's left to you to pick yourself up), and then when you hit a tree branch strong enough to hold you for some time, you learn your lesson, and begin your climb in the opposite direction.
In my case, I made affirmations and proclaimed boldly that I loved people, no matter what they did to me, no matter how broken they were, or what future hurt they could ever inflict on me; I prayed for them, calling their names to the Father, and reporting them to Jesus, because it was the most I knew to do.
I realized I couldn't hate those I prayed for, and so I prayed harder; to the ones I could reach out to, I did, and I explained to them how much they hurt me, and that I've prayed for them, and forgiven them. I told them I loved them, and there was nothing they could do about it; and lastly, I ate good food, and minded my business.
As this entry winds up, I added a note for those who think they're fine, and don't need help; those who think they aren't capable of hating on someone: you will not be fine "eventually". "Bear your burden in your youth", the bible admonishes. Learn to let go of baggage now, before you grow into something bitter and resentful, eventually becoming like Eugene in Chimamanda's Purple Hibiscus (I plan to re-read it this Christmas, because Christmas is good with family around, and Eugene reminds me of my father).
As the year draws to a close, you should take time out, possibly a day, and do some heart searching; ask the Holy Spirit to help you, you may find a pocketful full of enemies whom you're pouring emotional labour into. Let the word be a mirror and sit Him till you finally see, till you finally become...
Give love, drink water, and breathe.
- Anonymous.
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