What is your earliest memory?
All her life she thought being strong would be enough. She had decided this when she was barely two years old. She had decided that she would be strong even before she knew she could decide or that she had decided!
This was one of the earliest memories she had.
The little girl sitting alone atop a roof without any grills or railings as a safety feature could see the entire world under her. She was perched like a little bird- only she was sure she was not a bird and that she could not fly, even to save herself, were she to fall from that height. As if this was not enough there was a little baby in her lap. And she was to look after this little baby, too.
Had anyone picked her up and pulled her close in a warm, safe hug, that someone would have felt the little heart pounding hard- as if just ready to burst out of the little chest. Her eyes were big, and alert. Her body and mind wound up tight like a tight spring, tension in each fibre was what gave her the ability to keep sitting there, holding her brother tightly in her tiny arms. So tiny was she that her arms barely went across the baby’s body.
She needed to be sure she was away from the edge.
Living on the edge could come later. And it would.
All these thoughts could not have been verbalized or even recognized by her pre-lingual mind, pre-verbal brain. She was just about learning the words that would shape the thoughts that even now filled her mind.
Strangely, however, the thoughts came before the words. In fact, the thoughts became the words! And words could do no more than simply label the thoughts. When words become the driving force- they can even change the thoughts and mould them. The Force field is generated by us- the thoughts we think become the words we use. The words we use, equally, become the thoughts we identify.
She would, in due course need to put the words before the thoughts. She would have to decide the content rather than the name as she grew older. For now, all that she could sense was that she was somehow different from others, and that this would always shape her life and the way people interacted with her. This could be a problem, but she would get over this, too.
Just like she would get over the other hurdles in life.
She was deciding to be strong. And being strong came at a price.
The price could be the weakness she knew but others may not feel when they interacted with her.
They would hate her for this strength and not even know why they did.
The price could be people making it more difficult for her- each step of the way. Simply because she appeared strong.
It could even be the isolation she would live in- after all, being strong meant she needed no one to help her, or to stand with her, or to be with her. She could do anything on her own. In fact people could, and would, pull her deliberately and actively down. Simply to prove to her that she was not strong enough, and to prove to themselves that they could be stronger. Strange world- stranger the people that inhabit it.
Even as she grew up, she would always remember those evenings of waiting for her father to bring her mother up on the roof top. Her mother was mortally afraid of heights so she could not be left alone on the roof top. But her father had had complete and total faith in his daughter even from those early days.
He knew she would be fine. She was strong and great and just needed to find that out. His confidence did not allow any other possibility.
He also knew that she was different. He knew that she would change the way the world looked at being a human being.
He had great expectations from her. He was clairvoyant and thought he had heard the gods when she was born.
She remembered being there- and being alone. She remembered being in charge of her infant brother. She also felt her father’s strength and his confidence in her. It made it difficult to ask for help.
She would remember the feeling of being alone.
And she would remember the need to be strong.
The need.
The need also meant that she had something that made her feel weak, and scared. The need also implied that there was a deficiency that must be either filled or hidden. It implied that she was less than she should be or could be. But she apparently became so strong that such a feeling could not matter.In fact she became so strong, or pretended to be so strong that even she did not realize just how weak or afraid she felt. Some of the time.
And it would not matter- not until another three decades passed.
And then, at 32, she would realize just how much that pre-lingual, nonverbal, feeling that she had felt deep inside her gut had shaped the way she lived and the way she pretended to be strong.
Fighting her own inner fears and demons, she had never let on just how weak and fearful she really felt. Especially when she came across as being overbearingly strong. She was, in fact the weakest, when she appeared to be her strongest. And the most overbearing.
Inside her head and her heart, she was hiding it even from herself.
And outside she was struggling to be accepted and to stand on her own. The paradoxes and the contradictions would always be apparent to her and would be the reconciliation her soul sought. This would be a life long quest for her.
Such was the paradox she lived in.
Being strong and feeling weak, simultaneously. Being alone and waiting for acceptance. The feeling that she had defined before she even had the words to define it.
And when she knew the words to define her feeling, she could not quite grasp it.
This feeling, this thought- “I have to be strong” was all that was left. That, too, was buried somewhere deep in her subconscious mind.
So... she went about her life being strong.
She was not afraid of the dark- but she walked with her back sliding against the wall lest someone come between her and the light switch she needed to flick on. There was no one in the room- her brain knew this for a fact. Her heart, however, knew anything could happen.
She knew, and she knew not she knew, that alternate Universes existed; and that it was possible to travel between them. She knew, and she knew not she knew, that she- of the 6 billion people on Earth- was uniquely gifted to make this journey. All that would come later- much later.
For now- she must be strong.
For now- she must not be weak.
And if she is strong, she does not need anyone else, does she?
So she goes through life- breathing, blinking, eating, sleeping- alone. Looking for company. Seeking.
Sometimes, even in her childhood she wondered whether there were others like her. This thought often crossed her mind.
She wondered whether she was alone- or was she lonely. Another contradiction, and paradox she lived. One that would make her look for a person who would not only love her but accept her and tell her over and over again, “You are not alone. I love you.”
If she was alone, she had to make herself safe- she could not let the world know just how weak she was. So she had to erect walls- very strong, fortress-like walls that could keep everyone else out, unable to hurt her fragile sense of self.
And if she was lonely- she needed to make sure there were no walls, that she stood in the open fields of life. Open. Exposed. Defenseless. And that she could see everyone, and be seen by everyone.
In the process she might find someone who was a close match. Someone who would understand the paradoxes and contradictions that seemed to steep her life.
This someone would talk the same language- the language that was primal, and pre-lingual. That someone would know- instinctively the difference between alone, and lonely. That someone would know, instinctively the need to protect and the need to be free. Free of fear, of weakness and of loneliness. Free of the need to be strong. And that someone would know when to be with her and when to set her free.
These two were very deeply contradictory needs.
Even her grandmother had gently reminded her one day- “You are not like others. Others will be fascinated by you. They will be intrigued by you. But they will never be able to fathom you. They might love you or hate you, but they will never be able to ignore you or be indifferent to your presence in the room. This will make it very difficult. So be prepared for it. Because you are different. So do not cry, my child. This is your destiny.”
How would she reconcile the contradictions in her soul? Who would help her be loved and be free?
Uhambo had to set out on her own journey- without a roadmap, without a guide; she had to walk, run, breathe and live a life without any known blueprint or plan. Like so many others, she would define a persona and an existence that would, hopefully, make it worthwhile.
This journey and beyond.
