1.

“Dzikama” is what my mum used to say to me when I was a kid. The word, depending on the day and intonation with which it was said, could mean a few different things. It meant “slow down; calm down; stop what you’re doing; what is wrong with you?” lol. Life always felt like it needed to be lived and experienced fully (and almost urgently) when I was a kid – moving fast enough without disregarding or denying the need to slow down. I was so curious and excited about life! I hadn’t yet learned the word ‘balance’, but life would soon introduce moments for me to learn this concept of ‘balance’, some lessons I wish wouldn’t have dragged on as long as they did in retrospect.

However, one sentiment remains true. All these lessons felt like Sunkissed whispers from God or burning coals being shoved down my throat. Either way, all of them led me to this truth I now cling to. My peace is directly linked to accepting the process of life. No matter how I may feel about it or the number of things I may take personally, life requires that I honor and accept change as a constant companion. It both sucks and takes courage to live from that truth. Since some lessons were harder than others, creating and finding balance stopped looking linear and more like pivoting appropriately when the moment called for it.

So, when I made mistakes and felt as though I had failed miserably, “accepting defeat” in those cases, looked like allowing myself to cry, be mad, call a friend, eat my favorite food, pray, meditate, etc. (not in any particular order).

2.

It looked how it needed to look, in order to get me to the other side of the pain so that I could accept the change that was occurring. Change is constant and my consistency in practicing acceptance creates balance. Balance means breaking free from the old beliefs and embracing new truths. It’s about moving forward, learning, unlearning, and allowing myself to change my mind. Forgiveness is key, to move on from my past failed actions and to receive clarity on the next steps. Breathing is also key.

It reminds me of my essence, my connection to God/the Creator. Breathing helps me remember where I am and who I am. “I am in the Heart of God,” as the great Poet Khalil Gibran stated. To love oneself is to be in the heart of God. Life is God’s love in motion, breath is acknowledging as well as trusting that I am the heartbeat of God, and change is how we accept and adorn this love. I am in the heart of God when I love and when I am free to choose, that is how God feels like to me.

My way to adorning love was never meant to unfurl itself in ways similar or exactly like yours – but finding your own song in this life is a sacred responsibility, a solemn promise we make upon entry into this life. It is a promise we make to each other as sojourners. This life, as is our supposed personalities and/or identities, is a pitstop.

Pitstops must be tended to with the spirit of “curiosity and calmness,” with urgency but with the awareness of how nature honors the unfurling of all things – fast and yet slowed down enough to honor each creature’s journey.