My grandmother never wanted me to clean my room during the Lunar New Year as she thought I would sweep all my good luck away. So now I never clean my room. Nice try, Richard. Well, that's a gross exaggeration but in all honesty, my room is not the only thing that needs a makeover. And I’ve got a lot of work on my hands.
But I suppose I have to start somewhere. And who better to remind me to pull up my socks than an old friend. For some reason, I was drifting. Free falling from the things I once held dear. I withdrew myself and set up an isolationist policy to avoid the disappointments of the past. And I failed to see it. Wait, wasn’t I the one who was advising that nice bloke three years ago? How ironic.
While role reversals often suck, I’ll make an exception for this one. It’s high time I get on the balcony again. In all the hustle and bustle of life, I forgot the simplest of things. I forgot myself. I took from myself what no one else could. I ran myself ragged before anyone else did. And the God of small things sent me a nagging reminder. Jeremiah 12:5 says “If you have raced with men on foot, and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses?”
I’ve always wanted to live life at its best. I wanted to fuse freedom and spontaneity with purpose and meaning. I managed it. And I wanted others to experience it as well. But I forgot. I let go of my hopes and my dreams. I let go of myself. At least I remember now. For the first time in months, I went back to the well and it wasn’t empty. I experienced a second wind that I never knew I had in me.
Looking back, I’ve always been successful when I put my heart and soul into what I do; when I really wanted it. From topping academic lists, captaining a debating team to nationals to bringing home the gold in business competitions, I’ve tasted success when I was truly at peace with myself. I remember now. Sure, I still want to do it for God and for the people I love (LMAO time) but now, I want to do it for me too.
They say a picture paints a thousand words. I think we’re not doing justice to certain pictures here (Or photographs for that matter). A truly enlightening two days of rediscovering me ended with a beautiful picture that reminded me that it’s not too late for me yet. And that it’s never too late. I am still so young; so very young.
Hence, I will close with a little something from a man of incredible prose, Lord Byron.
SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
