Psalms of Olúwalónimí

What is this thing that makes you high and low at once? You are upbeat, then downcast Joyful yet reflective  It makes you proud of you, yet humbles you to the core.  It breaks you, yet builds you. It weighs on you, yet excites you.  It frees you then gives you boundaries. It shines on you like the light that it is, yet shows you your darkness.  You're grateful for the life, yet awed at the mass of it. There is never one side to it...  What do you call it? 

It's been a ride. Through and through. And I'm learning to find Contentment.  Now, more than ever. What do you do when answers to the prayers of yesterday seem like the curse of today? When you have so/too much of what you've always wished for, and it feels like a spell?  Seemingly relegated. Stuck with the kids,  Every time I lift Eniiyi and his incessant wails Every time I have to attend to Nimi and his whimpers.  The chores The sacrifice  The rote The denial of mobility... there comes the feeling That I'm probably missing out on something. A lot of things.  Really though, this life is opposed to what?  The bustle, hustle, vibes and bubble bursted by uncertainty and unfulfillment...  But I'm reminded of when I wanted to be this close to this thing When I hoped really to do the laundry, dishes and the likes...  When I yearned for the time This is it. What I prayed for.  It's here, and I'm taking it all. All. Everything that comes with i...

 It's in you Everything you require for life and godliness To you, he has given. For this life ehn, nothing pass man. When we really check it, we realise there's no hurdle we cannot pass. No struggle, pain, hurt, disappointment....  That we cannot overcome. We just need to connect to that part of us. That well of healing... Its in you. The trigger could be music, a convo, writing, a certain someone, a certain place... All these He put in place. Find it. Keep it. It's in you. 

 It all began with this scare I looked at my calender and my heart leaped into my mouth I bit my finger and condemned myself on how stupid I've been Then I prayed, that you make the cup pass over me Reminding you that even jesus had to spend three days in the grave. You know you have a way of showing yourself and showing off I thought the cup passed. Oh I did.  But it came in another form My sister bore it And you think I'd see it differently?  You're funny though.  The place of burnt offering smells the same Regardless of who is lying on the altar I'm reliving every bit of it- The same emotions, the same place, the same faces, questions...  (With a clearer perspective. And it's why I'm thankful that you always insist on the best, even if you have to repeat the circles.)  The one who is on the theatre table and the one who  is waiting for the news are going through the same heat.  It's her process.  It's my process.  It's our process....