CONFESSIONS OF AN INTROVERT: PART 1

"It is not external things, but our thoughts about them, that bind us or set us free." - James Allen

The Voice
The voice within me. The voice of reason. The voice of restraint. The overruling, authoritarian voice that has, over the years, established a will of its own, utterly immune to whatever 'self-control' forces that are exerted upon it.

The overly cautious, overly suppressing (and yet unsuppressed) voice that bars my internal persona from revealing itself to the outside world.. to the seemingly dogmatic, dictatorial world.
Lo! The voice is not unlike a dark cloak that allows sight only to what it desires.

And so, I ask and even wonder, as I have my entire life: How do I, alongside my inner workings, plot a coup against this tyrannous agent? How do we step above the voice? Become our own selves? Realize the outward identity we so ravenously yearn for?
It may sound laughably utopian, but it's possible! I know it is!

For now, I reminisce, a lump of discontent in the throat, about an encounter with close friends! And spin a delusive version of the lacklustre matter of events, complete with words and gestures that could have been! ..and yet were repressed, bottled up by this menacing cloak! ..only to manifest themselves in the form of this cancerous lump of discontent and thickset frustration.

How to step out of oneself? How to be more than the voice.. How?

That's an ultimatum I serve up to the table. A constructive question whose answer: the key to a greater, more fulfilling, freeing and far-reaching existence, underpinned by unprecedented unadulterated freedom.

Freedom

Then again, there is something ever so appealing about the grass on the other side, don't you think?

Perplexed,

Jude.
 

EMBRACE THY NEIGHBOUR

Before anything, my valued reader, allow us to kindly observe a moment of silence for the dearly departed Peggy Adhiambo.

Frankly, I still refuse to believe that she has left us; such a lovely, lively young girl, with her whole life ahead of her, who sought nothing more than to spread joy, love and kindness - a quirky girl who also happened to be a Fashionista.. a Diva ..a Friend ..a Confidante.

And yet, and YET... I act despicably, hypocritically, shamelessly!

Yes, she was a dear and, in fact, irreplaceable friend.. but only for the brief moments we shared together.. after which I took little if any initiative to foster, let alone preserve, our companionship.. on the pretext perhaps that she should have included me more in her life, or simply that the opportunities never revealed themselves.

And so this is a classic case of the highly inimical, inexpedient human habit.

 

 

A defect that spares no one, not even you, my esteemed reader.

 

However, before I delve any deeper into the hominine inadequacy, I am compelled, and even obliged to speak out against an equally disquieting (and contemporaneous) turn of events: The signing and effectuation of a most inhuman and outright irrational law: The infamous Ugandan anti-gay bill.

 

To live next door to such draconian rule, that so easefully assents to this retrograde bill.. based purely on fallacy and shamelessly endorsed by narrow-minded rulers..

 

 

To break bread with a country that inequitably deems "homosexual acts" as crimes punishable by life imprisonment, on the pretext that this sexual orientation "was learned and could be unlearned" as Mr. Museveni would have it..

 To feel trapped and in fear for one's life daily

 

It's heart-wrenching.. and to think that we (Kenya) mirror the same gutless idealism; it is in a word 'unsettling.' Take heed, however, that I speak solely from the vantage point of a sympathist. One stirred by the cause..

 

And so.. pondering upon this embittering issue, I take this as a call to arms for us all! For the international community to press upon the breach of human rights of a silenced minority in a tyrannical land. For the Ugandan authorities to proactively review the facts on this scarcely comprehended minority and to effectively acknowledge its plight.

 

And above all.. for us to pay more attention to those around us.. the Peggy's all around us.. that seek only to generate connections, to be loved and to love; For us to accept and embrace them, irrespective of their individuality; and furthermore to cherish them while they are alive and kicking, to essentially 'make hay while the sun shineth' ..because we don't want to be sorry tomorrow.. as I am ..today.

 

A painful lesson that demands painful application.

And so the question that hangs in the air is, are we willing to step out of our comfort zones, for the greater good?

You tell me.

Regards,

Jude.
 

 

 

 

 

 



Of bricks and blocks

Youth and adulthood. It's funny how in our era, the two are so much more acceptably interlinked.
And yet.. and yet not enough.

A well-known Kenyan author addressed us earlier this past week (sadly, I failed to note his name), and the hugely analogical, witty speech he made sent ripples of excitement channeling across the grand and lofty conference hall.

He keenly pointed to us that one ought not "..live the life you have found," and in connection with this explained that we should be ourselves, and not be what we are in that setting of time and place expected to be.

About an hour ago, I'd (thankfully) woken up literally in the middle of the night and enjoyed dinner in the solitude of our living room, and in the company of an ever so entertaining television set.

The Culture Show was on. And the topic? Lego: The Building Block of architecture..

You can only imagine how nostalgic I felt, as memories of 'those block friends I had (literally) made' and that 'block world' I had created, washed over me. A time when my creativity was ungoverned and my small intimate world unencumbered. It was a wonderful time! A time I perennially look back to with such hankering!

It is the fate of one who has not fully reconciled his childhood and adulthood.

One must lead to the other. Block players become block setters. Architects. Doodlers become renowned designers. Soccer boys become soccer men. That's how it is. How it should be.

As Sunny Bindra, yet another illustrious author who graced us with his presence informed, "There are now many more doors. And the strict doorkeepers are growing less and less."
I wonder, then, if I had played more Lego, ..would I be more inspired, more in a position to take up, or even consider, architecture now?
If.. they had not been stripped from my possession so prematurely.. maybe, just maybe..

And I look at the likes of Alvaro Siza, whose aesthetic is clearly Lego inspired..

 

..and at the same time think about the succeeding generation of architectural connoisseurs, 'taught' by constructive video games, notably the cult computer game Minecraft.

 

And.. I can't help but be discouraged, because of my prehensile need to be the best at any one scenario in which I exert myself.. an all-or-nothing inclination! (..and they call me unopinionated! Ha!)

I guess I'm overthinking matters, over planning, and  quite simply overreacting.. As Mr. Bindra sagely suggested, "Don't make plans. Set standards," a rule I'm only slowly assimilating.

Life really isn't in black and white, and is certainly not topographically interpreted. Maybe that is what's to be learnt as one transitions, breaks out of the cocoon of puerility, and ventures into adulthood, that even though we live in a digital age of 1s and 0s, that reality does not exactly mirror this predictable, predesigned pattern.

In that respect, one should, I believe, build their lives, stacking a brick at a time, with their set 'standard', and NOT blueprint in mind.

Food for thought.

Until later,

Jay.

 

The Double-edged sword

A take on digression..

Side tracking. Deviating. All synonymous with the shameful.. oh so very shameful, despicable, unspeakable act.. of digression.

Nature.. is it in our nature to ..digress? Is it inbuilt, hard-wired in us to stray from the straight and narrow?

To assuage a ..soulfulness that we have so unfairly been bestowed with.. passed down from the forerunners of mankind. And so be unjustly condemned, subjected, under the mercy of bestial tendencies that have been carved into the psyche, into the very fabric, DNA, of man..

Or.. am I simply fulfilling the typical human nature - of finger pointing ...and not acknowledging the log in my own eye?
 Is this a test... is this stage in life, marked by inexplicable ambivalence, actually a test of will? Of personal responsibility? Of one's very grit? If so.. it is arguably one of the hardest most soul-devouring trials, whose outcome makes or breaks. And whose consequence is of an entirely transcendent nature.

And so, it is at such a dark time, when one is literally a slave to self, worn down, as a casualty of temptation... that one yearns for apathy. For a freeing of the mind and spirit, from the worldly carnal shackles.

"...To be coarse, brutish, and snappish may be natural to the beast, but the man who aspires to be even an endurable member of society (not to mention the higher manhood), will at once purge away any such bestial traits that may possess him."
-James Allen

Right now as I sit here... face flushed, body and mind weakened and worn, and myself on the verge of fainting, ..I pray ..pray for divine intervention! For that is all that can pull me out of this bottomless hole. This destructive pit of self-abhorrence. Of cowardly concession. I try to pull it together. To create, at least, some semblance of control. And it's truly hard. It's actually HARD.

If there were ever a painting that accurately captures my present state of mind..

 

Great Wave off Kanagawa

 by Katsushika Hokusai

Nature... maybe that's what I need right now.

To be out in the midst and majesty of nature, and to be ensconced in its therapeutical calm. Maybe then I will be able to realize some clarity.

Maybe.
.


 

#1 2014

It's been ... many months since I last wrote, let alone visited this unjustly forsaken blog. This avenue of thoughts.. of self expression.. and connecting to the world in such a way that my introversion would otherwise not allow me.

I have undoubtedly felt.. incomplete without this blog.. without  a means of recording truthfully and succinctly my reflections and emotions at any one moment in time.. capturing it in words, in such a way as to suspend it in.. in perpetuity.. and enable closer scrutiny.

..."SUSPENSION"...

 

A well-versed author to whom I extend my unbounded admiration, Mr. Sunny Bindra, spoke to us earlier this week, and one peculiar piece of advice he shared, which sounded almost exactly like a teaching from the e'er lauded James Allen, has since adhered to my mind:

"Observe yourself. Learn to be your own observer.."

And in light of this point, he added that one should examine their emotional reactions to various situations, and it is from this that greater understanding of self is attained.

 

 

  

Suspension... that is what this blog was.. is about.

As it is through suspension that audit may be effectuated... and from this reflections developed, lessons learnt, and, in eventuality, growth aroused.

 

Declining the dispiriting words of Peter Van Houten, a minor character in "The Fault in our stars", I dare say that "I do not feel that continuing to share my thoughts with readers would benefit either BOTH them or AND me."

 

 

Until later..

 

Jude.