Creative Writing Group Piece

Deep calls to deep. Bearing your soul to another. Being vulnerable and uttering truths. As the waves crash repeatedly on the shore. Looking past the immediate turbulence of foam and spray onwards and outwards to the distant islands. Cliff faces standing bare to the elements. The driftwood came to rest upon the shore, anchored in the sand amidst a sea of pebbles. Like a tree taken root but in this case a dead piece of wood offering itself as the pew on which the sharing and intimate conversations can occur.

The endless crashing of life's waves have not moved it, it is firm, solid and stable. Its massive trunk a sturdy base, a stalwart base. Waves have smoothed and honed it into what it is, moulding it into a bench. As each pebble has been smoothed and rounded, so has the ancient tree been caressed and crafted into a new creation.

God at work in nature and in the hearts of man. Moulding each heart and life into what he has planned. From the log on the beach, the future islands look far off and unattainable, blocked by the crashing waves. Sharing one's story and opening one's heart to another to be guided and encouraged. Challenged to see past the waves to the distant shore and what God has got planned. God's constant love like the ever churning waves upon the shore. Life's challenges make the way rocky, but at the same time each wave moulds us and changes us more into the unique pebbles on the shore. Each with a different story of how they've been formed, making them what they are.

Faith is not knowing what the future holds, but who holds the future

A friend shared this with me today and it was a source of comfort. Once again I'm semi-unemployed and the future is a little uncertain. I had a bit of a dip following being told that I wasn't going to be full time next year. I am doing a bit better now and trying to think of different options.

Times are tough in Zim and there aren't many jobs going. I might have to create my own work. Went to an art exhibition yesterday and it inspired me to try do my own one day. I should get my paintbrushes out again.

My therapist challenged me to tackle the different things that are currently causing me stress at the moment. Firstly my job status, then sorting out security at home and then trying to get domestic help. It is not easy. At times life has been a struggle and drudge recently. I lose hope and the future doesn't excite me but rather makes me feel daunted and overwhelmed.

When I hit lows I am really dependent on my Mum and it makes me worry how I would cope should something happen to her. I used to be independent and live on my own but at times that feels like a different version of me and another life time. I wouldn't survive financially here on what I earn and with my lows I need someone to help me carry on when it feels like I just can't.

November

November is an interesting time of year. The first rains finally come and with them one feels the sense that Christmas is around the corner. Our garden comes alive and the days are slightly longer. One also realises that the year is slipping away and starts to think about what the new year will hold. Whilst it is still a little while off I do start considering what my options are.

In the past this was a stressful time of year, with exams and frantic studying. It also is when loads of year end functions are squeezed in and there is lots on the go. I tend to get on a high with the anticipation of Christmas. It is post Christmas that the end of year really hits and I quite often am a little apprehensive and anxious about the coming year.

Some people call this time of year silly season as with the festivities and holiday time people don't really think clearly. I must admit I am starting to count down the weeks till Christmas.

The first thunderstorms tend to revive me and I enter a mood high. However when there are numerous cloudy overcast days this can have the opposite effect. I do love thunderstorms though.

The coming of the rains

The jacarandas leave their final carpets of mauve along the roads, whilst the flamboyants fiery blossoms come forth. Hot days build cumulonimbus clouds that hint at thunder showers and the air is sultry in anticipation. The frangipanis bare branches sprout pastel shaded blooms with a heady fragrance that hints of summer and far off tropical shores. All exotics, but all so familiar to Hararians.

Finally there is a roll of thunder and the first tentative drops of rain spatter the concrete. Gaining courage and momentum there is a drum roll of rain drops and a refreshing shower pummels the earth and gives life. The heady smell of fresh rain interfused with soil and earth permeates from the ground and you start thinking of Christmas and December holidays, although it is only November.

Flying ants mysteriously appear from holes in their underground nests and the European bee eaters flit across the inky blue skies, returning from their northern climes. Lightning strikes and the earth trembles. The rains have arrived.