Pain, Passion & Purpose: The Journey

“Mdara if this music shit never works out, I’d have wasted my life.”

Yeah, that's it. That’s the profound drunken quote from a recent conversation. I swallowed hard and simply said, “I understand, but that’s not entirely true.”

I could just stop here and we hug it out, but that’s a bit of a cop-out. And if you’ve known this writer for a bit, you know the easy way out is never an option. Indulge me, if you may.

Picture yourself dashing through the jungle of life and then a three-headed being comes into view. Three identical faces and they look like, wait for it…YOU. Suddenly, the being notices you. Now, you are scared shitless and your adrenaline is all jacked. Fight or flight. But what if I told you to calm down, walk towards the being and go, “Hi”? What I can’t tell you is which head will respond first. All I know is that at this point the heads will introduce themselves. Pain, Passion, Purpose. Remember the names.

Let’s talk about each head for a minute or two.

Pain

Ah, this one. The one you’re least fond of right off the bat. You can’t stand this one because it’s a reminder that you’re ultimately breakable. After all those social media posts about being a strong woman with the devil under her feet, one look at Pain calls bullshit on your imagined invincibility. Having stared down this face before, I can tell you that pain is not something you get used to, because things can always be worse. Just when you think you’ve endured the worst kind of pain; a new level introduces itself.

2018 comes to mind for me, when I wept while staring at copies of my book African Pride. What hurt me the most was how I thought I’d come so far and endured so much, yet one message from my dad dashed my newfound bravado to pieces. The pain I’d endured in the years prior, knowing my life was a frigging mess yet I still dared to pursue my artistic dreams…I was happy to be finally over it. The joy was fleeting, and I was back to feeling like shit. The spiral into depressive episodes and (mini) alcoholism that would follow was beyond chastening. I would go on to lose almost everything and be written off by nearly every person who knew me. You know your career is not going well when you get messages like “So you’re still pursuing your passion, right?” and “You’re strong bro, just keep pushing” from your buddies. Maybe they mean well, but it is what it is. When what you love so much, what takes away your pain, adds to the pain from time to time…it can be a lot to take in.

I made it about me for a minute and I won’t apologize for that. But I’ll tell you this: I know I’m not the only one with pain to deal with. I know you also have dreams, hopes and all. And I know you sometimes wonder when it’s all gonna happen for you. Maybe it’s not even about your career and livelihood. Hell, it could be some shit that happened in your childhood. Or a lot of romantic disappointment. Or loved ones dying. Or some other stuff you can’t talk about without tearing up. What I won’t do is propose a one-size-fits-all solution. That might be a little irresponsible of me. But consider this: what if all that pain is pointing you towards something? What if all that you feel you can’t bear has made you turn your gaze towards the other head- Passion?

The Japanese have this beautiful practice of using molten gold to glue broken pieces of pottery together. Kintsugi, as they call it. Not letting the pain define you, but using a stumbling block as a stepping stone.

What’s your Kintsugi gonna be about?

Passion

A glance at this head and you might let out a chuckle. You know how I started writing poetry? I got fed up with seeing dudes in Cyprus penning mawkish poetry. So, I made up my mind to write some damn good poetry I’d love to read. Pretty dramatic, but that’s just how passion rolls. In any case, I didn’t turn out to be a bad poet, so kudos to crazy passion. Its very countenance is fiery and the seductive voice is all but irresistible. It tugs at you in the most dramatic fashion, daring you to run barefoot across the jungle. Never mind if you step on snakes and sharp stones.

Bad literature is a source of moderate pain for me and it ended up revealing my seductress, my passion- writing.

In a world where we’re all encouraged to follow our hearts as long as the journey ends in wealth and/or unimaginable bliss, passion is treated like a crutch of sorts. But we seldom ask ourselves what would happen if we woke up one day and the passion was gone. Or what would happen if the passion itself turned out to be so blinding it shuttered the voice of reason. Passion can dull the pain a little. Hell, it might even make the pain somewhat enjoyable. Like how you can be financially reckless during a fiery romance and be convinced that is the only way to truly experience sweet love. Fam, I gotta be honest: Passion is a lousy guide and an inconsistent motivator. There are days when the burning desire to write is so far from me. Younger me would fear he’d lost the spark for life. Older me now knows it is simply passion being passion.

That said, never feel bad about your passion. It usually leads to beautiful places. Unless you’re Hitler or George Bush.

If I’d known to temper passion with reason, I’d probably be in a better place right now career wise (or not, cause it’s mighty arrogant to think I deserve better). What sometimes adds to the suffering in the life journey is how passion can make you put off fixing what needs to be fixed. When how you feel supersedes what needs to be done, you might pile on your own pain in the long run. I’m not advocating for a life of not feeling. Feeling shit is important, and screw the talking heads making it some gender issue. But maybe we need to accept the limitations of passion. A Ferrari can win you a street race but don’t take that bad boy to race an SUV in the desert. There has to be more behind what we do beyond how it makes us feel. An all-weather conviction that keeps us going even when the excitement seems non-existent.

You know what sucks? That you have to face the limitations of passion before accepting them. At this point, the “why” enters the chat.

Purpose

The head with the least words, but those words really hit. There are many important days one can forget, but the day you find your purpose is definitely not one of those. Purpose is what enables you to keep your head above the surface in a pool of pain. It’s not sexy, but it is functional. Your purpose can be summarized in a sentence or two, but it transcends whole chapters of your life. You could be going through the worst shit or playing hide-and-seek with passion, but remembering your “why” is the reason why you’ll finish that article or text your partner. You don’t feel like doing it, but if you know why you have to do it…YOU DO IT.

What makes purpose all the more fascinating is how it’s not hungry for the spotlight. You know, it’s easy to see that someone is passionate or in a whole lot of pain. But it’s only when you start peeling the layers do you start to notice the sense of purpose behind their moves. A single pass cannot give you the full picture of the game, but when you analyse the passage of play after half an hour or so it all starts making sense.

Ever wondered why sometimes a veteran needs less energy and time to get things done? It’s mostly likely that he’s grown into his purpose. At the start of my creative journey, it was all about writing as many things as I could at one go. But now that I understand my purpose a bit better, I know that 5 articles in one day and then nothing for the next six months cannot beat 2 articles a week for a year running. At some point I might think of the pain of being a creative who’s yet to see financial stability (as some people like reminding me). Or the relationships that have failed. Or how I may find writing for spoken word shows boring (fun fact- It does get boring after a few good shows). Or how I've fumbled big opportunities in the past. But I always try to remember that all that doesn’t bleed into my why. I know why I write. Even if that means I’m meant to live a life of financial modesty (not to be confused with brokeness), I’m cool with that.

So?

Full disclosure- I’m far from the finished article, bro. I’m not yet there. You could hate this whole writeup and we can talk about it. But I believe I have some experiences to pull from and truth be told, stuff like this isn’t the easiest to write. I wrote this for me and you. Because being open has always worked for me. It’s part of my “why”. It’s lengthy writeups like this that remind me why I write in the first place.

I’m a dreamer too, a creative on a pilgrimage to a life that makes sense. But when it comes to the dreamer’s journey, knowing is rarely enough. In fact, the human experience at its core has never been about knowing. There has always been a purgatory of sorts, a place between knowing and doing. A place between discovery and recovery. Not knowing what to do can confuse the hell out of you, but knowing what to do yet not doing it for whatever reason is straight up painful. If you’ve ever had sleepless nights punctuated by tears, wondering if you’re insane or flawed for believing in your dreams…you get me. And I you. That’s the pain I’m talking about. That “Why am I not going for it as I know I should? Should I just give up on everything?” space.

I hope your pain reveals your passion, and your passion hands over the controls to your purpose. The pain may never go away, but it wouldn’t hurt to look at the other heads of the beast as well. It may change how the rest of the journey unfolds for you.

Not all beasts are meant to devour you.