Personal

That perfect year? In Work: Did finally get offered a staff position somewhere that ticked all the boxes I deeply desired at the beginning of the year (O&G operator, strong technical focus and scope to evolve my role). As a bonus, the official job title is now half a sentence :) In Women: The G ‘problem’ ended being resolved in dissolution. Sucked but we were clearly headed no where. I suspect it was me tearing things up instead of dealing with them, again. :( In Faith and Worldview: Not a lot of progress, very easily my worst year faith wise. In Weight: 1 kg net loss, give or take, I do have the excuse of a broken foot in Q3 to blame here though :) In (Net) Worth: Stalled again, slight decrease from 2014 actually - not helped by the Naira tanking and wiping out a shed load of my Nigerian savings and investments.:( F0r 2016? Wash, Rinse, Repeat I guess - but with a lot more fight.

I came into church on the 10th of May feeling deeply distraught, the overwhelming sense being that all was not well. Two main issues drove the sense of disjunction I felt; uncertainties around work and an inner turmoil around a decision in my personal life I had wrestled with for nearly a year. The message on the day was by Rev Charles Achonwa - one of the first things he said being about surrendering to grace. This spoke directly to where I was at the moment, as I had taken time off a month before to come up with what I felt was the perfect plan with multiple backups and redundancies but had made little progress which fed the sense of frustration I felt. ...

It has been that sort of month since I was last here, the sort where the only possible response once the worst of it has passed is one of navel gazing self congratulation, at having survived without too much out of kilter, like a slight limp instead of a compound fracture…Between two trips offshore, a sore foot which required a pitstop at A&E and busyness multiplied exponentially, the past three weeks have sped by like a blur. My continuum? 12 hour work days, deadlines coming thick and fast, and weekends spent trying to catch up on the week’s backlog in time for a fresh load of things to chase for the new week. ...

In chess: a situation in which the obligation to make a move in one’s turn is a serious, often decisive, disadvantage. In real life: a situation in which one realises that life is speeding by in a state of unstable equilibrium with all the possible moves only likely to lead to more instability, or possibly a catastrophic event… The solution? To stop, tear everything up and begin again… Maybe..

If all goes well, by the time you read this, I will have spent just over 18 hours in St John’s, North America’s oldest city, depending on who you listen to. As I type away in Evernote on my laptop, my view is considerably less fascinating than what I have been looking forward to; the 3 day ginger stubble of the fellow in seat 26D, my notes and the tepid remains of coffee in a Styrofoam cup occupying the full extent of my vision. The map on the entertainment console in front of me indicates that I am now half way across the expanse of the Atlantic stretching between the western edge of the Republic of Ireland and St John’s, not entirely a comforting thought to be surrounded by all that water. ...

For the first time since July, I have begun to run again. Once a week - I’d like to make it twice - I don my bright orange jacket, shorts and running shoes and begin at a leisurely pace down Urquhart road, up Links Road and then gradually pick up pace until my feet are pounding the tarmac on the long stretch that is the Beach Esplanade. Sleep, or more accurately sleeplessness, has been one of the drivers for running again. Once awake sometime between 2am and 4am regardless of when I hit the sack, I find my mind far too active to go back to sleep. That is how I end up awake till it feels like a less ungodly hour to hit the road and run. What running does is afford me time to think - headphones plugged in, I can focus on the rhythm my feet make and the beat of whatever I am listening to. I am not alone in the pursuit of running zen, sometimes I pass other runners in different phases of their own runs, walking a dog or on the odd occasion an elderly couple out and about strolling. ...

In the opening chapter of his autobiography, Hunger of Memory, Richard Rodriguez explores his introduction to the English language, and the strain his commitment to mastering it places on his relationship with his parents. Being Mexican immigrants to America in the 1970’s, their primary language of intimacy and engagement is Spanish, their efforts in English being halting and deeply accented, even though his mother is an excellent speller of words. The emotion most stirred in those early days - when he as the up and coming scholarship boy gets to be out and about with them - is one of embarrassment and perhaps frustration at their limitations. For him, as with most people looking to escape the limitations of a certain kind of background, aspiration is a keen motivator, one that drives him to seek to immerse himself in knowledge and books, and take up the manners, airs and graces of the class and culture he looks up to. ...

Image Credit: Sarah Horrigan, Flickr The one woman I think I loved most in my recent history didn’t quite like me back that way. I was sure she was The One; I was entranced by how her eyes lit up around children and young people, how easy she was to talk to, and how her voice - soft and mellow yet steely when required - seemed to exude this aura of quiet strength. Even her awkward moments seemed cute, the tilt of her chin when she pretended to not see me across the room and the mumbled words when I could tell she was furiously inventing excuses to not meet up. ...

\https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=videoseries?list=PLYbuHzHoxFuCf8ksItOz6ZdGAL_L8PR1W&w=800&h=315\ The continuum: loss, numbness, turmoil, (self induced) heartbreak, surrender and (finally) finding a peace of sorts.. Here’s to Beginning, Again… The Playlist Mad World - Gary Joules Wish - Lighthouse Family This Too Shall Pass - Yolanda Adams Shadowfeet - Brooke Fraser Father Me - Rick & Cathy Riso Read All About It - Emeli Sande Airplanes - B.O.B Love Alone Is Worth The Fight - Switchfoot Volcano - Rapture Ruckus & Jonathan Thulin Redemption Days - Josh Ojo Something New - Axwell Ingrosso Shake - MercyMe

Standing here on the cusp of a milestone birthday of sorts, the sense is one of relief - that what has been a deeply emotive, if difficult year, has ended without too much lingering damage. Much of course is relative, depending on that difficult to define quality emotional capacity, or resilience. To my untrained mind, it would appear that like muscles and exercise, the more experience one has had dealing with trauma and difficult, emotionally charged situations, the easier it should get. I suspect the jury is still out on that. Tempering the sense of relief is a sense of clarity, the detached sort that hits in the moments between when a car begins to skid off a bridge and when it hits the icy water beneath. Time, in those moments, seems to stand still, each event on the time line of dying taking on crystal clear quality, like an HD frame, frozen. This birthday has that feeling of being a portal to inevitable change. The facts are what they are, I am now nearer forty than thirty, and that realisation in one fell swoop takes away any remaining pretensions to enduring youth I still have. What this does in addition is bring to the fore the questions of being, identity and direction I have managed to sweep under the carpet over the past few years. ...