The past few days have dragged along a deluge of goodbyes and hellos, which although not special, have had a personal feel to them.
My WhatsApp, where I spend quite some reasonable online time has buzzed with both phenomena at a slightly higher rate than before.
It can be argued that the COVID-19 pandemic (how I hate to refer to that thing) is responsible for both extremes. Even today, my Pastor jokingly called them ‘our lockdown babies’ while announcing some new births. He was obviously referring to the fact that there were increased conjugal ‘meetings’ occasioned by the COVID induced lockdown. Talk about coping mechanisms.
Brethren who based their conjugal exertions on time-table had the luxury of marathon genital meetings, many of which went beyond pleasure to producing bouncing results. Well, that is not what my piece today is about. That is the second amebo for some other time. I owe you one – The Story of Ìyá káàbọ̀, ọmọ kú ilé from the previous post, remember?
So I was letting you in on how my WhatsApp delivered messages of the grim reaper doing its thing while many innocent new humans strolled into the world. In one of the groups I belong, a member announced the departure of his dear mother, a fighter, who peacefully heeded the call of her creator after living a life of impact. About the same time, another old school mate announced that his family was blessed with the arrival of a baby, same gender as the amazon who had transited.
The following day was even more interesting. Someone announced the death of his father and then a while after, another announced that his wife had just been delivered of a cute baby boy. The information flow took on a unique life with people congratulating the father of the new born same time as they commiserated with the son of the departed.
As usual, my head was tasking itself into thinking round situations again. This time, it got busy and the end result is this musing – this post.
Deaths and births are inevitable. Life must start for it to end. You have to be born so as to die sometime later: maybe after a minute or a year, after a decade or several decades. One thing is sure however, it has been a while since chariots of fire appeared in this earth space carried to carry anyone home as it was with the Biblical Elijah or Enoch, the one referred to as a very righteous man who simply disappeared.
Without the ‘death’ of some associations, we will not look inward for solution to issues they have always sorted for us.
Tweet
The main thrust of my musings today is the fact that people will die and people will be born, life will end and life will start. In fact, a proverb in my part of Nigeria is translated as thus:
A dead banana/plantain tree is replaced by its offspring.
However, some life has to end for some life to start. To really fulfil potential, some things have to die in us, some habits have to die, and some relationships have to die! Without the ‘death’ of some associations in our lives, we will not look inward for solution to issues they have always sorted for us.
It is the same way that ‘death’ has to be given to some parts of our lives so that life can be given. Let what should die DIE!
We even hold on to dead/dying situations: jobs, education, relationships, alliances, continue the list. But today, start letting go of what should DIE so that new, better ones can be BIRTHED!
When the dead ones are gone, we can start to concentrate on the ones that should be birthed or have even been birthed unbeknownst to us. Right then, we can begin to nurture these and have them walk side by side on our way to realising our potential.
Nor be say na like dis my head dey work evritaim so, but I be say mek I serve am as e take drop.
Kindly share a thought or two before you go right on to enjoy a very beautiful week. Blessings!!!
OSCARPOEMS 