Michelle's 18-Month Reflection: How Do I Explain This?

My words are flying through my fingertips

They splatter on the blank wall like a Jackson Pollock

forming a 2-dimensional imitation,

a misshapen shadow of the vivid spirit that fills my life.

—a farce.

I try to catch them, to sculpt them into something more real, more authentic.

I will my words to hold the shape of children’s laughter on the school ground,

to mould each vein on my gogo’s hands

as she grinds the mealies in a hallowed out tree trunk.

to form the pit in my stomach of self-doubt and uncertainty

as I tippy-toe around my role as guest, collaborator, contributor, and friend.

My fingertips would form a swollen heart filled with love and pride and loyalty.

Loyalty.

A sense of shared destiny, of belonging to one another, like brother and sister,

yet being apart.

A visitor at home.

Try as I may, my lexis fails me and my words fall flat. 

I will endeavor, in the future, to bring life to my language and better honour the soul of the phenomena that surround and hold me here.

 

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Joe has pointed out that we have kept a pattern of posting a broader personal reflection every 6 months. The theme of my reflection is my inadequacy in relaying the soul of this experience to you, the reader. I am feeling and living so many raw and real things and it often feels like a minimization or an injustice to try and put them down on paper. I get caught up in trying to say it right, get it right. Torn between writing as self-expression and writing as an explanation. My words fail me, but I promise to try harder in these last months here.

Because sometimes getting it down imperfectly is better than letting it pass, disregarded, as though it never happened.