Looking Forward


Thoughts of Africa fill swollen and overflowing waking hours, running rampant through restless dreams.

I long to more fully embrace purpose and throw off those earthly restraints that keep me tethered to mainstream mediocrity. There are days, pressing days, when life is measured by deadlines, shopping lists and bills to pay that unassumingly suffocate aspiring dreams, days of monotonous normality that hang like ominous storm clouds – black, hot and heavy. Yet, it is in this day to day, this quiet measuring of life that hope rises, purpose expands, dreams grow. Yes, it is in this day to day living that I know, truly know that there is more. SO MUCH MORE!

 What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?, I try these words on – What would I attempt to do if I knew I could not fail? … the question leaves me wondering. Do I have big enough dreams? … Have I stretched myself as far as I can? … Is there something more?

My eyes are front and centre as I look forward to a new year. Time to step out. Time to listen to the whisper leading me onward and ever upward – Destined – Devoted – Daring. These words, these holy emblazoned – profoundly significant words, I dare to breathe. Dare I believe that a single ordinary unexceptional life can be assigned for a heaven breathed, specific purpose? Can I commit to the steadfast unrelenting pursuit that might be required? …  Do I even have what it takes?

I already grapple with how to live audaciously bold? … I am not a thrill seeker, I do not live dangerously, I play it safe and play by the rules. I like order and everything planned down to the very last detail! I am black and white through and through. Temerity is scarce and intrepidity out of reach. Yet, despite obvious inabilities, glaring lack and persistently clear weaknesses, I find myself whispering these words to my frantic heart. I whisper them quietly, just loud enough so my heart can hear, soft enough so my soul can believe. For I wish dearly to inscribe these words fiercely across my existence. To scribble them back and forth and etch them deep, really deep. To carve a space between what is not and that which is hoped for. It is these words that I carefully wave like a white flag, time to surrender, time for a truce.


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