How can I be myself? – Truly Twaambo

I remember being about 6 years old, sitting outside on the huge lawn of our farmhouse in Lusaka, Zambia. I was all alone, paperclip in hand, and a small flower in the other.

I was determined. I was going to spin the flower into cotton like Rumpelstiltskin could spin straw into gold. I just believed I could.I remember looking up into the sky at those big big fluffy clouds,kneeling there in the grass, my chubby hands circled but lots of bangles that jingled every time I moved.Thats the first time I thought. ‘I want to be a scientist.’

I always think about me being out there by myself , and how happy I was, and about how being myself outside has always made me happy.Walking around, looking at the clouds. My spirit is clear, my mind gets clearer and I hear my heart. I finally hear the questions my heart asks and the immediate answer to them. e.g. What would it mean to you if xxxx happened? The immediate answer being it would mean the world. Then I know its what I want. Then I pray about it. I believe God has given me the desires that are in my heart and that He can make them a reality.

I spent this afternoon walking around, the fall wind whipping around me, not adequately dressed ofcourse. But oh the joy in my heart! The freedom, and feeling His presence with me. I believe that God is also really happy when we are fully what and how he created us to be. Free.

What had me thinking about this time of life, a time where I was uninhibited?
Jonathan Martins ‘Prototype’

The one escape I had from these apocalyptic fantasies was

my blue-and-silver Schwinn bike. During those same years,

I used to ride my bike for countless hours on the cul-de-sac

at the end of our street. Instead of dwelling on the darker

visions of the end of the world, I escaped into the realm of

the truly fantastic—riding in circles for hours and making

up stories I would tell myself out loud. During these rides,

I was unencumbered by fear, doubt, or self-consciousness,

freely pursuing all the possibilities—and impossibilities—

of life, without ever having to leave the neighborhood.

The neighbors probably thought I had some kind of

psychosis, muttering to myself while never actually going

anywhere. But I didn’t care about getting to the end of the

street or to another part of town; my little bike was my

time machine.

Just being on it made me capable of entering a world in which I had pet robots and saved really gorgeous blondes in futuristic jumpsuits from intergalactic

danger. I wouldn’t have thought of it in these terms back

then, but I honestly believe that’s where I came to know

God. It was so natural to be in His presence that I wasn’t

even conscious of it.

What is the one thing you did as a child where you were yourself, where nothing mattered, where your mind was free, where you were completely …. yourself?

xoxo

1 Comment

Caroline Gasse says

May 10, 2016 at 3:39 pm

I remember as a child, walking on the green grass of our Lawn in Zambia, my dad pressing fresh orange juice in the veranda while my twin sister and I were collecting granadelas. Doesn’t sound like anything special, but it’s the one memory I have of free perfection or perfect freedom. My brother still a toddler and my mum cooking… the music in the veranda, our family just chillin. I even stepped on a bumble bee and got stung, probably how I remember that day. I long for more fresh fruity breezy and loveable days where I did what i love…eat fresh fruit, listen to music and be surrounded by the innocence of happy people.

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