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Friday, July 10, 2020

LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF PT 1

Letter to my younger self PT 1
Letter to my younger self PT 1


By Ifediogor Uche

I slept but my heart is awake.Amid the swirl of the wind and the flash of the lightening with strident voice of the thunder my mind like a pedestal slowly ascended from the deep sleep that has incarcerated me,circling majestically to the whole vigour with which the rain pours down.

Now I woke up in the dark.Through the slats on the windows shade,still chilly, I could feel the chills running down my spine.The first hint of dawn slipped my eyes wide open.Still on bed slanting my back backwards like a shadow bar over the bed.My head began to prod ,reluctantly I simply lay there.In no distance time a thought of my younger self emanated from my mind and I was wholly caught up in the web of space.

I often give tasks to my younger self,although it seems like the cruelest chore but is good for me because I can't keep mums , I wouldn't want my alter ego to be all sizzle no steak.Many times this is simply a fancier way of beating my body to the future. Of course you have to give eyes like a hawk
The "hurry up and wait" of the ENDLESS rehearsal will foster unbridled patience when stuff goes awry in any rehearsal, and guard your sanity in life  .As cheesy and redundant as it sounds, it can get better if only you say your prayers.

As a kid growing up I always test my mind and I always come up with questions of which one I could recall is " What happens when all the neccessities of life are taken care of without losing out from the divine scheme of things ?And how stringent is the demand that one follows the true nature of thing as being qua being? In the midst of intellectual ferment I could lay bear of my self.

With my breathe in  the belly.  Let the rain upon my face bring gravity and grace, i looked into the mirror and I hate what I saw, although Not a hair out of place but their something missing

Still  caught up in this web of space where I have to build my values by how much influence the society had over my mind, as I look back with trepidation, am forced to drown my saliva of regret asking myself , how unwilling could I have been to the subject matter of change. To my younger self I write; it really doesnt matter now how much change the society value has made of my mind, my thinking system has been devalued by the amount of information I got, but on this day I make up my mind not just to be challenged but also to rise to change.

A man really cannot change a people if he doesnt bear a burden for the people. I have chosen to bear this burden of change until my change comes. The secret is that no amount of change I desire to see will happen until it comes from within, until a man changes his thinking value he cannot effect bigger changes in his world. No matter how dirty a bucket of water seems, it can get as clean as clean water gets continually poured into it. Its my quest for change; I will not give up on it!

Now its me again, literally sitting beside me (in my juvenile years), like an elder brother does to his young one, having seen and tasted the bitter and sweet pills of life, spilling out the content of my bosom to my younger self, telling him son, the earth is just one enclave of change and time I tell you, is just one big fat determinant of the change’ word, with time rocks were born and as time effuses they disintegrate into smaller bits which turns sand with time. Thats the power of change, and this power I've accepted to wield as I uphold change

To my younger self, this letter lucidly tells you about change, its power and how you should clasp the good kind of change in the palm of your hands and watch time pass by as it makes it better till perfection where change has reached its limits.

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