Children never tire. Over and over, they can do the same things and yet, never tire of it. It is not to say they do not appreciate variety, but simply, that they exult in the rhythm of life, pattern, seasons and cycles. They exult in repetition, because each time offers a new heady experience, fresh windows into new worlds.
Up and down, round and round- I used to love riding on the carousel. Up and down, round and round on my favourite unicorn- every round was a new beginning. And at the end, the inevitable, "One more time? Please?"
But even children tire-they tire when they grow up, learn monotony, become Big people.
People say I seem older than I really am. The truth is, though I turn 21 tomorrow, I feel like I'm all but three. Three years old holding onto the golden pole through my white, white carousel unicorn, going up and down, round and round. For so long, I had grown up in the dark, going up and down, round and round in grown-up monotony, walking the same roads over and over, making the same mistakes, along the same cracks and faults, over and over in the darkness, up and down, round and round in the darkness. Blind- too afraid to get off a ride that I had outgrown, out-ridden.
Once, I asked the unicorn I was on, "Why do we keep going on in circles? Can't you get out of here?"
And it replied, "Don't you see, I've been trying to run away from here all my life. But the faster I run, the more I seem to go in circles. "
As most Big people often do. We run, we keep running, but we go in circles, committing the same seemingly unpardonable sins in the same faults, along the same lines. Over and over, up and down, round and round, in and out of therapy. We hold on so tightly to the golden pole in the darkness.
Twenty-one. But I feel like I’m three. Twenty-one, but just, three.
At one point, she didn't even think she'd make it this far. Three years ago, she took the plunge like a suicide off a bridge... and then, she met God, and that made all the difference. Daddy says she grew up too fast in the past year, and Jie (elder sister) says she never thought she'd ever turn twenty-one-"You'll always be the rascal-baby in my eyes," she says. I hear the twinkle in her smile over the telephone cord stretching over miles of oceans.
One finds the time to contemplate the weight of this, of what Twenty-one means. Twenty-one means... you're a Big person, a Woman now?
That we lived our lives smearing milk chocolate on our lips like lipstick, eating marie biscuits bitten into shapes of zoo animals, stuffing ourselves sick with candy floss with sticky hands with a balloon tied to our wrists, decadently, wildly, carelessly, and now... we eat with shiny cutlery with our backs straight and I have to learn what it means to eat well, not too-much, too-little, just enough to make your face shine for people and in a way that balances your exercise schedule but not too much, not too much- what is too much, too little?
That we lived our lives taking on new worlds, conquering new frontiers, re-discovering new lands, all in the confines of the playground, bravely, boldly, valiantly, and now we find ourselves unknowing, tentative, inadequate, asking- are we enough for this?
That we lived our lives running across sand, grit and gravel at the speed of the wind without ever looking back, with falls and scrapes and bruises that we wore like badges of honour and now... I run, keep on running, but with my head permanently fixated on where you are because I'm so afraid you'd run after me and catch me, offguard. And if you did, I'm so afraid it would knock me off my feet, and onto the tarmac, and I'm not so sure if the scar would heal as fast as it used to, back when we were children. I don't want the other kids to stand round in a circle and laugh at me while I'm forced to do a forfeit-am I running too fast, too slow, leaving you too far, too close behind me?
For all my childish ways- this constant running, running from you with the wind in my hair and turning back ever so often to check the too-far, too-close distance between us, this longing, longing for a too-far, too-close tomorrow without today even being over, and this laughing, laughing like a child at the clown whose stilts leave him too far off the ground, and who wears his heart too close to his sleeve.
All my childish ways of running, longing and laughing- does Twenty-one mean I have to let them go? And all at once I realise, that all this time, I've been running in circles, and you never really moved from the point my eyes left you.
I cannot escape time. Tomorrow, I turn twenty-one. I am learning new things, seeing new lands on my white unicorn but I hear a voice telling me there is more to this, more to this surely. I lean my head against the golden pole and realize… it is my white unicorn who wants to leave, too. Who wants to run like a chariot ablaze into the horizon, in a straight line, finally.
He tells me he wants to be a Big Horse too, and learn to run in straight lines, move forwards, cover real distance, conquer new frontiers, and not in tiny, petty circles. I whisper to him- me too.
Me too.
Three and on the carousel, basking in the thrill of the newness of each new round, learning new things, seeing new stars in dark places I’d never seen before. So this is what happens when you meet God? Everything becomes new, fresh windows reappear in blue skies, and all at once, you are a child.
In God’s eyes, we will always be children.
Something tells me, there is more to these tiny circles we’ve been trapped in, more to this than we ever imagined. There is a circle beyond this, mirroring the circle of the sky, an arc of love from God to men, an arc going from end to end, a circle we were truly meant to be a part of, beyond our carousel, beyond our worlds and imaginings.
All we need is just one brave step to get off our unicorns, let go of our golden poles, and get onto the ground, into the real orbit of love and life. It's when we are finally able to give up what seems good, that we can prepare ourselves for something better, something far better than we ever imagined before. Maybe all we need is just one brave step to see that that’s all it takes to stop this dizzying, petty circling, and start a life afresh on solid ground, enraptured in the Real circle of adventure.
It is not to say that we grow up immediately and become Big when we get onto solid ground. Far from it. For perhaps, perhaps we never really need to.
For in God’s eyes, we will always be children. Every stage in life presents new challenges, new beginnings, and when we look at the world with fresh, twinkling eyes, we see how, at every point of the arc really, we are all but little ones, learning, stumbling, falling, getting up. There is a circle mirroring the circle of the sky, an arc of love from God to men, an arc that goes from end to end, a circle so huge and so infinite we only get to travel but once.
At every point of the arc, we are at the same point, and yet, at inifinitely different points, too. Every day is the same new day, and yet, every day, different, leaving you in wide-eyed wonder, like a child. Over and over, children can do the same things and yet, never tire of it. They exult in repetition, because every point of the arc is the same point, and yet a new point, with new lessons, new perspectives, new adventures.
Maybe that’s what we need to allow ourselves to be- simply, children. Twenty-one or otherwise.
When we finally learn to let go, learn to get off the plastic unicorn onto solid ground, maybe that’s when we can finally find our Real horses and ride off into sunsets, and not in tiny, petty circles. For at every stage in life, at every point of the arc, all we need are a child’s new eyes, and a child’s brave heart.
Perhaps, that’s all we need- to be children again. Small, and hopelessly trusting in a Big God who holds our circle in the palm of His hand. We need just a deep breath to leap off our carousels in order to ride on the Real thing, the Real horse, go on the Real adventure on the rim of a golden arc on a never-ending bend back Home to the skies.
Perhaps that's all we really need.
Twenty-one, or otherwise.
“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
– Matthew 19:14
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