Whether it not it takes 21 days to truly make a habit, it is clear that in my life and practice, writing needs to play a more prominent role – for healing, coping, and as a bastion of creativity. Over the next 21 days I will force myself to write various creative pieces that purposely take me out of the usual context of being an immigration and refugee lawyer and into the realm of writing. If you are looking for professional writing, this is not the right place. I have never been formally trained. I’ve been told my writing is too ranty, too wordy, nauseating to read. Perhaps our words reflect our busy minds. What you will get is raw, truth-seeking, words on paper without fear or reservation of consequence.
Today’s piece titled “Beginning to Wonder and Wander” is a short poem that digs into some deep content and thoughts. I used to be a rapper/emcee for many years. Writing in lyric form comes naturally. Hopefully I will over the next 21 days engage in other forms.:
We live in this present state of too many beginnings.
Our ideas flow so frequently from our oversaturated minds. I believe the experts would call this a ‘synapses problem.’
Anyways, I couldn’t explain it to you. You see, I never was one good at Sciences and yes, it was considered a seminal failure when I wrote to the registry of the University stating boldly – physics will be the death of me and chemistry never worked out for me both in the books and in my limited relationships I had failed to begin or maintain properly. I guess sometimes there weren’t even certain beginnings to start with.
Instead I spent years between states of wonder and wander, wondering what the differences were between the ‘o’ and the ‘a.’ I guess I was always more of a wanna-be-wonder boy, not that anyone ever dared to called me ‘wonderful,’ but that word had no A’s just like my transcript that I was made to believe defined my life worth – below average and boring.
I also liked the circular idea of the ‘o’ that I would going in circles dealing with one thing or another. I was really good at repeating and copying and pasting but when it came to exploring I fell short of climbing the fence that all the kids navigated with ease. I was scared of the fall. Still am today – the object of many nightmares and occasional realities.
I’m beginning to wonder if I had it all backwards. Whether I should have spent more time wandering the streets of my City aimlessly and freely, observing the intricate nooks and crannies and exposing myself to more truth. Giving my heart a little harder armour. Whether that would have addressed that fear I have when I clench the hands of my amour tightly to navigate around threats perceived only… I realize… in my… oversaturated mind.
Today, I both wonder and wander through the mazes of this life – telling that often too vocal voice inside that he won’t steal my courage, that 30 years of occupation was more than enough. That my inability to gaze into your eye directly when speaking to you isn’t just a cultural bandage for fear, as I have finally stopped bleeding. I wish I could walk out of yesterday but indeed when I look at the scars from surgeries past or those glasses pressed against a too-flat face that used to cause me so much torment – I am still very much yesterday’s child.
I don’t ask for any special accomodation – but I ask you occasionally to listen and let me speak or ask me if I have some thoughts before rushing to conclusions on stories that have too many beginnings for you to even begin to contemplate.
I wonder when I will let go. I wander the dark corridors of my soul seeking for that enlightenment.