Dear Friend,
I spent a rather long amount of time debating with myself the opening .gif for this letter. Fixated on thoughts that you find this letter as a hardcopy in your mind’s eye and the .gifs as moving pictures like in Harry Potter, thoughts of how apt it is that Obi-Wan greets R2-D2 and by extension the audience rather warmly as he welcomes them to a new adventure. It is the same story but a different chapter. A chapter that seems to promise a fresh start, an acceptance and a return to self, quite aptly titled A New Hope. So, in the same vein, Hello there!
In case you missed it, I have been consuming Star Wars content recently. I realized my only knowledge of such a cult fandom was based off hearsay and a couple of Clone Wars episodes - which I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed. It seemed like such a gap in my pop culture files, that I decided to address it. So I started with the movies, in the Episodic order - this means I know who Darth Vader is before Luke. While I do not like Anakin, and I believe graciously, do not judge anyone who does, I can recognize a young man who got overwhelmed by his fears and got consumed by them. Although, there is the context of being lauded as special and believing that being special was enough a shield to overcome fear. That does change the conversation a bit, I think. So, not changing the conversation, I must remember to always possess the right amount of whelm and not be afraid of being afraid? I don’t know, something like that. Definitely. Yeah, I have been watching Star Wars recently while I have been away.
One of my mother’s friends once said to me that I should not be afraid to ask for help if I needed it, which I guess isn’t special. However, she then went on to add that she was aware that I would rather die in silence than vocalize my needs, talk less of wants. I did not know that mother had done a press round involving not just family, but her closest friends; though, in her defense, some friends become family, are family. It also wasn’t like we had not broached the subject before between ourselves. I believe what struck me was that this trait which I had acquired over the years, in order to prevent myself being a burden, had now become essentially who I was to others. It began to seem, to me, like I was erasing myself by my silence. I have not spoken to mother’s friend since then, this despite her missed calls and surprise stops during her morning walks. I can not bring myself to answer the question: “Do you need anything?”
In Another Round (2020), at Nikolaj’s 40th, Martin starts tearing up mid conversation and goes, when asked what’s wrong: “I don’t do much. I don’t see many people”. That scene has stayed with me ever since my first watch, and I find myself returning to it again, and again. In two sentences, I feel seen. I have felt myself withdrawing, afraid of engaging, of wanting, of needing. If anything, it’s worse than it was when I first saw the movie, and also when I mentioned it to you in one of my letters. Martin, with the help of his friends, drinks into the night allowing the alcohol lull him into a simpler frame of mind: of curious wonder, and the willingness to do, to try. I have tried the alcohol, my good relationship with alcohol already established. It does not work as well as it used to, as Martin and friends also find out. I vaguely remember a time when I saw wonder in every little thing, when I wrote Haikus and scored hattricks in monkey post. If I am allowed to, and if I dare say, I want that wonder again, the thrill of the attempt, to do.
Life is an extremely isolating experience. Call that rhema, an epiphany, or a brain fart. All I know for certain is that, in this moment, it is an unescapable truth, the weight of which overwhelms me right now. Of course, one can enrich this experience with family, purpose, friends, but underneath it all - all the distractions, opiates - we exist each in our cocoons, forever engrossed in our own perception. I believe we should make the effort to reach each other, to bridge the gap, fostering connections that help make this unavoidable truth that much easier to bear. However, on mornings like this, when I find every color a bit dimmer, and each step feels that much heavier, I am left with just this truth. At the precipice of my cocoon, wishing that my lips could form the words to bridge the gap, or make any sound.
I wonder if you ever feel the same, but I often find myself feeling like I was rather certain of my sense of self when I was younger - in primary school, definitely. I knew for certain if I wanted something, and could often trust myself to defend what I wanted. I don’t know, somewhere along the line I began to question my wants, to doubt that they existed? I found myself in university often raising my hand when many lecturers asked ‘who here actually wanted to study dentistry?’, and I’d feel the lump in my throat almost immediately, scared of being caught in a half-truth. Sure, I wanted to study dentistry now, but how much of it was really my decision? And then there was the conference, leaving B, and… I think somewhere along the line I have forgotten how to want.
Mother did not want me to pivot from clinical practice. I guess that explains why I am struggling with that decision now. I have wanted to go back so many times, definitely more than the number of times people have asked that I do indeed return to the clinic. I am tired of having to justify my reasons to not want that, as effective as they all claim I will be. It makes me feel wrong for wanting this, for trying. And now that it seems like all I do keeps crashing spectacularly, It seems like Mother is right. Bojack quotes his mother, in season 5, episode 6: Free Churro, “Let that be a lesson. That’s the good that comes from wanting things.” Am I wrong in wanting this? And what if it is too late to go back? What will starting again look like? Do I really want this?
I guess it doesn’t help that I have to deal with all this while living in Nigeria. Nigeria makes everything exponentially more difficult than it has to be. To exist is pain; to exist in Nigeria is pain incarnate. How are you finding it? Living in a country that seems determined to take everything from you? I hope you are taking it with more grace than I am. I hope you are gifted with or built with more resilience than I am. I hope that when you feel overwhelmed you have a place - and maybe people can be safe places too - that calms you, resets you, allows you be. Am I allowed to tell you that you are allowed to want such a place? Or does it read as fraudulent seeing as I am just learning to want things again? I don’t know. I just hope you are well, my friend. Living isn’t easy.
I am approaching a major crossroad; I am better at appreciating those moments now, when I am in them. I think. I am untethered now, a series of misfortunate events, and my wants seem to have become necessary. I am struggling with the number of decisions I have to make, with voicing my wants, and “…the good that comes from wanting things.” O said, after one of the most uncomfortably honest conversations of our friendship, that I am allowed to want things, and that if they don’t pan out, we can always work out the next step together. Today, her words meet me at the edge of my cocoon; I find myself holding on to them. I am waiting for something that I am afraid to admit that I want.
I guess that is a fair enough start. Admitting to myself my fear, wanting it anyway, and actually going for it. Not so much unlike Anakin, in a way if you think about it. Though, I definitely don’t approve of killing younglings as a means to overcoming fear. Or something like that, I don’t know. The one thing I do know is that maybe it is okay that I want things. Maybe somewhere along the path of finding things that I want, I can find a way to feel like myself again. Maybe I can find a way back to conversations and facing friends I have retreated from. I hope that’s not wanting too much.
There’s a public holiday coming up here tomorrow. I don’t know what exactly it is for, but I am grateful for it. If you read this before, or on the holiday, I hope you take a minute to breathe, find a moment to actually let yourself rest and recharge. And if that holiday is done, or you had none, take that breath; find that moment anyway. You deserve it. The world will still be here.
Here’s to wishing you a good week! I am glad you are still here, still reading my letters. I am forever grateful, for you.
Signing off to Warm Shadow by Fink:
“ And I don’t want another day to break
And take our, steal our night away…”
P.S: I wonder if something needs to be said about just how much Man United performances affect my mood. Anyway, celebrating a 3-0 victory today. Cheers!
Sine Cera
Osondu
As always, beautifully written