We will remember these days when we were easy pickings for ridicule because we were starting out. These amateur days when we had no backing, no following, no crowds to fan our flames. Fondly, we will remember them. When we desired but nothing was forthcoming. Times when our mating pools were shrunken by our measly prospects.
With gleeful contentment we will reminisce upon these seasons of our lives. Seasons of sowing and sowing with no harvest in sight. When determination plagued our spirits and we throbbed in action chasing glory. We’ll remember the pains of unrequited love, the horror of solitude and the skepticism that surrounded our passions. When we fashioned careers in the arts while our teachers and parents scoffed at such thoughts. For the many times we tried but our efforts fell through and their scornful sentiments almost seemed to hold water.
We will remember these insensible dreams we held on to. When we hauled guitars on our backs amid suits and ties in the CBD. And lacked deference for the norm; choosing to be anomalies, choosing to be eccentric and choosing to become. We won’t forget this wilful insanity we pursued. This daring belief that we were somehow born to be healers through deeply following what we feel. That in one way or the other, the world would accept us for being irrational. This pulsating belief that we had no better trade or skill to offer the earth than ourselves. What a stubbornness we suffer. What a restless innerverse we are encumbered.
The early mornings on the pitch, fastening the cleats on our feet. How we ached to summon the world with our feet. We kicked, jumped, ran, hopped and hoped. On the dusty fields we prepared so that one day we may be like Kylian or Drogba or Pogba.
Our faith sustains us beyond today’s despair. Those of us of peculiar persuasions. Many people, young and old alike, row the oars of such boats. Oh how still we hope.
We are of different tribes of the human race but share in a similar struggle. Before time eventually wastes us away, we’d be damned if we don’t make prudent use of it. Everyone bestriding the earth has something pending; a gap to fill, a plan to fulfill.
Good news is resistance yields to insistence. If only one keeps at it. We don’t intend to be at the base of the pyramid forever. At the apex we do belong. We continue to shake whatever barriers we face by the hinges. Constantly chipping away at what stands before us and the ultimate prize. The universe prefers a nagging spirit. Soon it will give way to those treasures we so direly seek. And we shall look back in glad satisfaction, on these days of rickety probabilities.