Stalemate

This entry is less specific to Ghana than to life in general and what has occupied my thoughts for some time now.  Maybe writing it out, sharing it with those of you who have taken the time to read the snapshots of my experiences will help me to figure things out in some way. 

 I’ve come to this point in my life where the decisions that have been carrying me forward are no longer being made for me.  The track that has bound me, kept me stable, and guided me this far is slowly ending and where has it brought me?  It’s brought me to a void, a deep abyss and I’m standing frozen at the edge peering into the nothingness reluctant to take a step forward.  I am confronted with this empty space and it’s my responsibility to do something with it.  I have been given the tools to build a bridge and I have to strike the first nail.  Initiative is the word I’m searching for, not ambition as I once thought.  Initiative to take that first step into the unknown, initiative to construct the plans of my future.  It sounds so simple then why do my feet refuse to move forward like I’m paralyzed in a dream my body unwilling to cooperate with my conscious mind.  I am standing in wet concrete and if I shake it off now I’ll escape, but the longer I hesitate the more immobile I will become until my legs are bound forever in this cast of doubt and anxiety. 

 I have been given so many options in which to move and yet they render me more confused than ever.  When there is only darkness how do you decide to step forward.  How do you feel the path when you can’t see it?  I must have a flashlight in my bag somewhere, but I only seem to fumble around in it without being able to pull it out.  Society gives us the blueprints to design our futures, but what if you reject them in preference for your own.  Have I learned creativity or has my education killed my imagination replacing it with formulas, definitions, and concepts that fit a predetermined system in which I’m even sure if I belong.  How do I know the right direction to travel when I’m not even sure what my destination looks like.  We all want to end up happy I guess, but what an abstract destination.  It has no location that I can think of in terms of space and time so I guess I’ll have to look further I guess we have to look further.

 The mortar is soft for now.  There is still hope.  We are still young.