She was the ultimate optimist. Behind every dark cloud was a silver lining and light at the end of every tunnel.
She would walk into any fire with a smile on her face and come out unscathed every time. But there was a fire she was not quite ready for – the love fire. The magic of love fire is such that as long as intentions are genuine it’s flames are harmless if only to generate that internal burn that gives one wings, right? Wrong. Apparently when it comes to the love fire, therein lies the greatest risk of all. The risk of the burn is at the highest levels of intensity. The wild flames of emotions defy all intentions to tame it.
She did walk through but not to the usual round of applause at the other end. Not this time. Sad. Now time practically stood still as she grieved the loss. Scarred and charred, she sat staring into the flames of varying shades. Some, soft with the odd crackle from within its soul, others roared wildly and took over her surroundings.
She no longer felt resilient and unconquerable. Filled with no more than a void, devoid of depth, enthusiasm or spark, she mourned the loss of something. Something she had craved with every fibre of her being, something which felt very much as intangible as smoke.
And thus a skeptic is born.
Now she stays away from that fire. She keeps the light of hope, of being able to brave those very flames permanently switched off. She always walks away, far enough from the warm allure of the fire whenever it threatens proximity.
These days she would sit in the corner tracing her fingers down her scarred body, and she would walk backwards down memory lane recounting what could have been different, how victory could have been hers, how she could have transformed that fire, her soul could have owned it. Several shoulda coulda woulda’s later she’d be faced with the same dilemma – to take the lessons learnt and approach once again or to stand at a distance, safe from incineration and watch the versions of flames that would arise. She’d stand right there at the crossroads for time immeasurable weighing her options.
She has finally come to a decision and we know not what it is. Regardless of whether she walks into the flames again or not, it would be the right decision to the fulfilment of destiny. Especially so if she remained unshakable in her discernment of right or wrong for her, as long as she remained in truth with herself and as long as she showed herself love.
Even skeptics can be unshakable.
To this lady and all whom face(ed) this dilemma, stay strong. Destiny is born at the cross-roads.
Unshakable is a state of mind.
Be unshakable. Be in truth with yourself. Love yourself.