namwano

Happy New Year—or maybe a better greeting is, You made it! It’s been an eternity since I last did this, weaving thoughts into sentences. Back then, it was pen and paper; today, it’s keys and screens. The act of writing itself feels like a resurrection. My writing process for the hiatus period has been a messy one of delay, distraction, overthinking, and an impressive dedication to avoidance. Not encouraging terms for the beginning of the year ey? True, but the awareness of it is the start in the right direction if you ask me. 2024 had been a year of relentless demands, stretching me thin in every direction. I constantly felt like I was chasing an elusive "enough," a feeling that left me perpetually unsettled and plagued by the insidious whispers of inadequacy. "I don't know," became my frequent refrain, a mantra of self-doubt that clung to me like a shadow. Yet, as I sat down to evaluate the year, a profound realisation dawned: I had pushed myself beyond my per...

For a while I haven’t allowed my fingers to dance around the keyboard. I was breathing just a little. A little was just fine, for now (then), because during the pandemic, many had stopped breathing; and no one knew when their turn to stop breathing would come. I really don’t remember seeing beyond the moment; we at our workplace were among the few that rarely worked from home, and that served somewhat as a destruction from the reality that the world had been brought to its knees. For the past few years, breathing was considered a luxury. To conquer the anxiety of life required a dedication to a lifestyle we called social-distancing; it worked for a season, until I found myself wondering, “I want me back, this isn’t me”.  The volume knob of life had been turned down low. We could now hear people’s fear, doubts and anxieties equally as loud as we heard their dreams-at least for the number whose ambitions were not snuffed out by doubt. The pandemic made way for a lot of doubt. Even th...