A Thousand Second Chances
The Rise of a Queen
If you are into philosophy, you are probably familiar with the works of Abraham Maslow. He renowned for his theory on “Hierachy of needs.” If you are familiar with his works, then you know that at the top of the pyramid of needs is self-actualization. Maslow tried to explain self-actualization by using what he termed as “peak experiences”. This went on to become yet another theory on it’s own — today better known as Maslow’s peak experiences theory.
Put simply, peak experiences are moments when you feel you are one with yourself and the universe. According to Maslow, during such moments — one starts to unravel the “ultimate truth” and realize the unity of all things.
The philosopher himself realized how elusive this notion was and acknowledged that not everyone would get to a point where they experienced their peak.
My sister, having gone through one the hardest period of her life last year, seemed to have reached a point of epiphany and internal state of peace. She seized this opportunity to start documenting her perspective on life — divulging her thoughts on different subject matter; ranging from her dreams as a kid to her new aspirations as a woman and mother.
She sent me a nine page sample and I thought, why not share it with the world. I’m sure there her thoughts are not strange, especially to women. I certainly know of a few women who would find her work interesting. I feel I must mention though, this is work in progress; be gentle 😉.
Disclaimer: With the politically correct society we live in nowadays, I want to point out that I am not being sexist when I say women would find this work more interesting. I just think being a woman herself, women are in a better position to understand her story.
So here goes. Her words, not mine:
Main Me
All I ever wanted was to be an exemplary wife, and the best mother in the whole world. So this was the dream. The question is, as I look at it now, ‘Did this remain a dream just a dream, or did it materialize into reality?’ That’s what I am trying to find out as I open up my heart to the world.
I always knew that along the way, I would meet people and I would meet things. What I didn’t know is whether I wanted to meet them and what I would do if I ever did. Does anyone ever have such thoughts really? Thinking about it now, it’s mysterious world tends to know us, and what to serve us as we walk this valley.
This world will always prepare us to deal with what it serves, and how to forge forward. Then the answer comes, the journey is meant to be forward. The other question however still remains, What exactly is the definition of forward? Is this definition carried in one’s dreams? Is it carried in one’s ambitions? Is it defined by materialistic achievements? Or by how happy one is? Yet another question arises here, ‘What is the precise meaning of being happy?’
It’s a little scary having to grow up. As a little girl, everything seemed perfect in my sight. Funny thing, even my hair seemed perfect then, I am yet to understand what happened to it. There seems to have been two worlds when I was growing up. Am not quite sure if this is the same for everyone. There is this world in our heads. A world full of love, where I would meet a snake, shake hands and move on to my destination without having to think about hitting its head, and hopefully without it having to think about biting my heels. A world where enemies never existed. A world where I didn’t have to shed tears, well of course, apart from tears of joy when I see a black forest cake temptation. Let’s diverge a little from this world in my head, and move onto the real world, the one where my existence is, rather, was. Better still, the tense will be determined as we move along.
The Dawn
Let’s start this journey with a trip down memory lane, to my motherland Kenya. It may have been in a funny and maybe dangerous street, but I turned out okay, at least I’d like to think so. How about the family? Also, dangerous and funny?.
It happens that I was born and raised in this crazy family of five kids. I don’t mind calling them beautiful now because I have an opinion and the word beautiful as you know, lies in the eyes, rather heart of the beholder. We were blessed with a very strict mother and an open-minded dad. This is what nature has served us for parents. Surely, I don’t think anyone out of the five has any reason to complain, or to object, because we had the best.
I was the first to come out, and we all know what that means: Set the standards, clear the road, be an example, behave well, make mummy and daddy happy and the all the other mambo jumbo in between. I want to believe that our family was, and still is a fun one, a true definition an African family.
The “crazy family” is basically encompasses: Mum, your typical African iron-lady. She garnered other pseudos such as: Lieutenant and commander-in-chief, though her forces were never armed; only she was. All sounds military right? Yes, home was military based. She always insisted on having a clean body and a clean soul. The mind to her was meant to be instilled by values and traditions that would see one as a true African man or woman. Anyone who has been through her life camp is distinct from the rest. She is truly a true gem.
Dad, the modern open-minded and handsome Jemo. He was aware that school based education was the only thing he could give freely … not exactly freely but you catch my drift. He saw us through school although some of us developed serious fall outs with school — a story for another day. So yes, all modern toys, modern clothing, modern schools were all we enjoyed from dad. Super dad we all agree he was, he still is.
My elder brother, I want to call him the Dean is a born introvert. He made and still has very few friends. Nonetheless he has managed to retain all the friends he’s made, a trait I admire a lot from him. I still don’t know how he manages to sieve human beings through his fingers and only remain with a few, yeah, ones he would call friends. We would all agree that he was meant to be the be the next dean of a University college. Listening to his words of wisdom now, I think school wasn’t going to do him much good. It’s better he went out to a different kind of school, the world. His story is also long, we will require a whole book to go through that.
The next one is simply a man in his own world. Let’s call him John. At the time of this writing, he is what I like to call, ‘The last man standing’. He is obviously still enjoying the comfort and company of Lieutenant and Jemo. He is still warm and cozy. Aren’t we all jealous of him? Still stays at home, “trying to find his feet” is the word that describes him best.
My sister, well known as Baby, is a scan copy of lieutenant. Fearless, brave yet kind and compassionate. How all these traits wrap up into a single person still baffles me — a simpler definition of Baby would be “a paradox walking.”
Following thereafter is my favorite, small bodied but big brains. He is quite focused, am sure more than any of us. We will call him Doe.
To be continued…
I’d love to hear your thoughts on her writing.
