#Finding.Myself.Again

“I’m lost”.

Disappeared in a maze of confusing complications
Many times I nearly succeeded in finding my way
And when the mouth of the cave that swallowed me
Came into view
The huge jaws opened again and gobbled me up
Took me past the throat
And into the belly of
Nothingness. Self-doubt. Unworthiness.

In the maze are signs that read
“At Six Years- sitting under Mummy’s sewing table
making doll’s clothes.”

Another says “12 Years- Gazing out of window
To stare at the people
on the other side of the fence.”

And this one stands out boldly,
“14 Years - When you found your voice
And crept out of your quiet reclusive shell.”

The next is rather fun.
“16 Years - When nothing could stop you.”

“20 Years - when you brought forth life
To become a mother, a nurturing spirit.”

But I’ll admit, though grudgingly,
That it was the first time I experienced
The loss of innocence
It could have been the youth in me
That quickly kicked away the doubt,
That tore at the bush of despondency,
The forest of fear.
The sticky web of indecision, utter bewilderment
A deep mess of ignorance about life
In a state where I believed what I believed
Stuck on the thin line between girl and woman.

For 18 years, I stumbled through the mesh
of growing up and responsibility
Juggling motherhood, work, daughterhood
Walking deeper into the wood.
“God help me,” I cried every night
Not believing that He would.

You see, it took me quite some time
To figure out that life is a process.
And certain things do not fall into place
Just at the snap of your fingers.
My mantra quickly became
“I do not know”, “I am tired”, “I’m so done”.

I know now,
That that was the climax of my hopelessness.
And that from that point on,
Things could only get better.
Slowly by slowly, I found the strength
to start the climb
out of the abyss of self-deprecation
The pit of hopelessness,
The black hole where I lost Me.

And then, in the quest for more meaning
I lost my grip,
slipped and slid several feet down
Landing smack into another cavity.
Here, things grabbed at me
Held me tight in their claws
And began to suffocate me
Long hours of slaving, lethargy of ideas
The life drained out again,
Creativity was stifled, beliefs crumbled,
Self-esteem fled, morale was crushed.
And once again, I returned to the empty shell
I had so tried to escape.

The metamorphosis was slow
But the results were glaring.
They saw it, I felt it
Too worn out to fight this time
I let myself go.
Maybe I would find peace as a nobody.

But in my dog-tired state, I heard a sound
Like a whisper at first.
I refused to lift my head but it persisted
Becoming louder and louder with time
Until it became a voice
In my head, a voice that said
“Get up! Lift yourself!”
And then the words of the US’s black President
He who married Michelle, came to me,
“Yes we can! Yes we can!”
And the chorus grew, and grew
Rising in volume each time it was repeated
And I leaned on my forearms, sat up.

Another voice murmured,
“You gotta get your groove back!”
And God, with his might,
gave me the push I needed
To get back on my feet.
And though I toddled a bit,
Floundered like a fish out of water,
I got stronger by the day.

And now, even if I can’t yet run,
I walk with my head up straight
The mist is clearing,
I just saw my goals wave at me
Life gave me a thumbs up
And I am ready
To. Find. Myself. 
Again.