this is for you #4

I told her to surrender.

**
I remember that night months ago, my hair tied in a bun, eyes fixed on my laptop, researching more about the masters degree I applied for, looking at photos of the university and students reviews, planning, and planning. Things took an unexpected turn.
Since then, life has been planting my path with unpredictable things.
I had to postpone my masters degree for my grandma’s illness.
I catch myself often thinking about the little details you do to plan your future, sometimes even the near future. Your expectations of tomorrow and all that. Then it takes a turn.
I remember after that night, the next day was highlighted as follows:
12 pm: I received the news about my grandma’s extensive cancer, 4 pm: the admission office of the university finally emailed me the offer I’ve been praying for.

**
I told her to surrender.

I told her that breaking off an engagement isn’t the worst thing. It’s okay.
Planning is good. I love planning. But we get so attached to the truth of its outcome that any other scenario is unacceptable. Everything is in a clear, rigid frame. This self that I carry along with me, I am the most ignorant of its life direction. I don’t know what might come up that would change my mind about what I am fixed on. The development of this self. The mystery of it. Myself.
Tomorrow you might receive terrible news, or you might not.
Tomorrow you might get inspired by the story of a woman you’d meet at the supermarket who randomly tells you she likes your hair.
You might not.
Tomorrow you might meet the love of your life and the entire world would quiver in celebration.
You might not.
Tomorrow could be a boring day, or all the silenced pain would find its way to your body where it would hold you like a jacket on your shoulders.
There is no intellect in the world, no  spiritual armor that can protect you from feeling pain. Or from feeling. Expectation. Disappointment. It happens.
So I told her to surrender. Let it.
You will know when you have the capacity to feel something good again. Rest your shoulders. Cry if you want. You will know when it’s time to shake the dust.
Since September, I found that the unpredictability of things is both sad and liberating;
The roulette of tomorrow gave me a deeper appreciation of my now. My here. I am more in love with everyone around me. It’s beautiful. It is a celebration. Life is happening here. No one can change that.

 

© 2018 ALIA S. F.