It has been years since our paths crossed.
I know my attempt to interpret the course of my life will be inadequate. Still, I will share my reflections because I’m convinced my story is not atypical.
I went to hell and came back alive. And let me tell you: it’s not a place at which you want to find yourself. The world I was seeing wasn’t the world I wanted, so I realized it was time to examine my values. I knew there was a fundamental misalignment within me, and I needed self-correction. I didn’t want to believe it, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it was true. My only consolation was the faith that I’m going to find what I most need where I least want to look “In filth it shall be found.”
Thus, I wholeheartedly chose to go into self-exile. Yet, every choice has a consequence, and mine was a huge price to pay, personally and professionally. But I had serenity that came with it, let fail all else. And “God only knows what battles must be fought on the road to peace.”
As I increasingly accepted depression as a noble friend, I felt I was becoming an alien in a strange land. I flew east and west, seeking the threatening and unfamiliar. I gave up what I hold most dear, my old self, and suffered the death of cherished notions. I came to know that to extract yourself from the chaos you happen to be enmeshed in, you have to let go of what you love best. A piece of you has to die, and you have to kill it voluntarily.
Looking back, I know I have undergone a process of disillusionment. So, by necessity, I had to search for the foundations of my identity and dignity in the most intimate elements of my own experience. I wish I had done it sooner. I wish I had the courage and honesty to let the deadwood burn off.
But as Confucius said, “We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one.” Here I am, coming home 3 years later; at 31; satisfied to be here; grateful to have transformed the past from fate into fortune; pleasantly awaiting the ripening of dreams and the birth of surprises. The fear of falling back to my old self threatens to overwhelm me. But I know, now, that exile is chosen and therefore it’s always possible to come home again.
AW