Becoming: The Moon Child

I am becoming my very own lethe.

Inspired by the light that the moon steals to shine upon us: I wish to draw light from all the experiences I have had the privilege to have come my way, and shine these acquired insights into my life. My becoming.

“We all have souls of different ages,” were some of the most beautiful words I got to come across in Scott Fitzgerald’s work, ‘The Beautiful and Damned’. Through this, came my appreciation in taking control of my fate; and an endless contemplation of my life.

Life is like the wind, you cannot contain it, nor can you will it to be as you wish. It is with age and experience that it has dawned on me: life is not a matter of being, rather a constant pursuit of a becoming- and this is where we draw the sweetness from this life we live. My coming to this conclusion is very individuated in terms of perspective as it has been through acknowledging that I need to be patient with myself in terms of my growth; learning to pace myself and letting myself heal; and purposefully willing the sails of my life towards the direction I desire- to achieve that which I want.

Without purpose, even in the suffering, life can be exceptionally tough on anyone. I feel very fortunate to have to steady my restless soul at this opportune time in my life. I would go as far as saying that this is the prime time of my life, and I wish to induratise my wimps and focus.

With the dawn of ‘social media’ and various social platforms I have interacted with and their undeniable pull on the different paths we all seek to follow, I often find myself at a crossroad: how am I to say that this is what I truly want to pursue and that despite it all I do not care about how the world views me? How far would I go to be entertaining…to be relevant… to be tolerant?  Is this life I wish for myself more important that how I wish others to view me? How about the number of friends I have? Are they a determinant factor when it comes to the kind of person I am? Does it make me a bad person for even fathoming the thought that it was the best choice, having left the lot of you behind- having outgrown you?

I have great hopes and aspirations for myself. However vain, however narcissistic this may seem. I will not compromise my dreams and hopes for those who desire to shrink. I will weep, for the loss of your companionship which I still feel as I write this, but this will not be a side of me you will be entitled to see anymore- the lot of you. Strength is something I drew from the likes of you, but your light shines dim now and all I can draw from your impact on my life is the desire to not let the likes of you poison my light again. This shall be my becoming. The severing of these puppet strings. The fading of my eccedentesiast heart- my eleutheromania.

(n) A river in the Greek underworld that, when drunk from, made souls forget the sufferings of life; oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget.
Origin: Greek
(v) To make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love
Origin: Latin
(n) Someone who fakes a smile, when all they want to do is cry, disappear and /or die
Origin: Latin
(n) An intense and irresistible desire for freedom
Origin: Greek

By Jade Makory