Precipice

Its been ages. Too long.

Since I last signed on, I gained a few people and lost a few people (thankfully). I’ve also gained a few pounds that refuse to leave, but alas, such is living.

Its March 24th 2011. I’m sitting in a small dusty library in the Faculty of Arts on the campus of the University of Ibadan. I’m waiting for my e-textbook to load. As I watch that green line grow closer and ever so slightly closer to the end, I can’t help but examine the parallels in my life. Waiting. Waiting on things beyond my control, out of my grasp and how that waiting has spiraled into the uncanny acceptance of do-nothingness. It’s affecting me.

I filed for a fiancé visa for my brand spanking new fiancé in October of 2010. Up until now, I’ve heard nothing. The optimist in me keeps checking for updates the pessimist rejoices sadistically when I see “Initial Review” – no change in status for the last 5 months. And here I am, waiting.

I quit my job which at the time felt like severing my legs. It wasn’t that I enjoyed it immensely, it wasn’t that I felt it was a worthy cause that I must continue and it wasn’t because I felt like I couldn’t or wouldn’t do the work… it, the whole thing just wasn’t working. I was tired, run down, fed up and frustrated. It was like I treadmill I couldn’t vacate. Even when I left the office at night, I had something akin to that uncomfortable tingling sensation, that nagging feeling that I was still running on a faux tarred road, powered by electricity. I’d actually known for a long time that I’d wanted to leave, but I have such a hard time letting go.

At the time also, I had a friend, an advisor of sorts who became much more and much less. I listened and I believed where I shouldn’t have because in truth, it was one of those relationships that you know will end before it starts. I liked letting myself be talked into things, and I hated letting go even though I wanted to. Eventually, letting go became no problem at all and with that realization came that feeling of lightness, a burden being lifted.

It’s like trying to swim to the surface of the ocean while dragging a ton of bricks with you in a sack. You don’t particularly want or need the sack or its contents, but there’s a nagging sense that if you let it go, you’d have failed in some small irrevocable way--that will gnaw at you long after you're safe on dry land-- maybe forever. So, you claw and claw until you’re so tired you don’t know if you’ll make it and it doesn’t immediately occur to you let the sack go—but then, you have to make a choice. You break the surface and draw in air, or die trying to save yourself and the sack.
Well, I let it go and swam to the surface without looking back to see where it sank.

But here I am now, again, on the edge of a precipice, a beginning and there is nothing to do but glide into the sky or free fall. I look out toward our future and pray every step of the way. Mostly though, I’m excited. I can be now, whoever I want, wherever I want and so can he. My fiancé and I have the opportunity to pick and choose where we live and who we will become once we get there. It’s an exciting time to be us and to a time to choose carefully, wisely.

Also, I’ve done something I’ve always wanted to – started a business (hopefully, the first of many). I’m eager to learn and live. I’m eager to see what happens next.