whole is hard to shatter

Fragments from a decade ago still resonate. Resonate with the person I am today. Remind me of the person I used to be, or still am. Paying careful attention I discover traces of all things I held dear then. I discover them in the now, in the person I am today. Have I not changed? This brings comfort and frightful recognition. Parts of me are the same as back when dreams were believed to have the distinct possibility of coming true. Firm belief in the notion that the moment will come that will erase all past injustices. Tight grip on this belief, locking with all ten fingers, hanging above the endless sea, no notice of depth or danger. That was me then, able to believe and suspend disbelief for considerable periods of time. Fragments resonate, not the whole. I realise now but still willingly travel back in time on the wings of these thoughts.

There I stood uncorrupted, in virtuous ignorance, riding the waves of life’s big questions on the backs of wooden horses that spelled out honour, grace, bravery, loyalty. Big words filled my life, brought unbelievable burden and sadness. Truth crept in and truth destroyed everything else around it. Wasteful ideas about nonchalance made me cast away peers who didn’t make the cut. The circle of elite were privileged and we chose who to include, who to not. Instead of answers I found ever more questions. To some I guessed the answers and got lucky. To some others, I’m still searching. Years seem to not matter, distance or time bears no relevance. Slowly, one by one, I had to let go of first grace, then bravery, then dreams of unthinkable magnitude. By letting go there came the burden of emptiness and lost expectation.

I had to learn how to walk with a straight back again. Sometimes I still forget. I envy those who never bend, those who only bend for the ones they love. I bend with every breeze that catches me off guard whilst crossing a bridge. I lose the hand of honour and justice, I lose sight of grace. Humility and honesty meet me once every so often and the time we spend together is precious little. I used to fill my life with grandiose ideas about an honourable existence. Every step, every day I lost a little of the wholeness. A decade ago I embarked on a journey that was going to be a sail in a hot air balloon, singing all along the way. The hot air slipped from my balloon and in a haste I had to throw out the heavy words that I took with me. First went grace, then honour, then bravery, then loyalty, then humility, then honesty. At last I landed and now spend much of my time retrieving all that I had lost until now.  

There are fragments from the past that help. There is a room full of strangers when the music starts. Then I feel like I did when the world was not too dirty or unjust to take on. When I saw only the good. Every breath of every stranger brings me closer to who I was then. Every note builds the words that I have lost and spend each waking minute trying to find. There is a G from grace. Soon there comes the H in humility. I expected no fast recovery. I am willing to take the long way back, but I fear that I can never be whole again. I can never be uncorrupted like how I started out. The success of survival stems from hardening the shell to weather any storm. A decade ago my whole was hard to shatter. A decade ago I was a whole you could not have shattered.