An Artistry of Words

Last week I interviewed a woman whom I’ve long admired. She is a widely respected academic, a human rights practitioner, an advocate of women’s entrepreneurial development, a revered author and all round maverick in her field. We got to chatting generally and discovered shared interests and passions and a common investment in personal growth and development. Once the official meeting was over, she extended an invitation to me to write for her as a freelancer in her various philanthropic endeavours.

After an embarrassing display of excitement and the quickest ‘yes’ she ever received, I had to take a moment to reflect on what this meant. Here is a woman who doesn’t know me from Adam, who after having one conversation saw something in me that she felt resonated with her and offered me this opportunity which is a pretty big thing. I was overcome with emotion. I couldn’t believe how my life had changed so exponentially from a few years ago.

Two years ago, I was unrecognisable to myself. I looked at my reflection and didn’t know my own face staring back at me in the mirror. At night I’d hear the blood in my veins and that was the only indicator that I was alive. And again I am reminded that the only permanent condition is that of impermanence.

I am now staring at the unfolding of a twenty year dream. I am given the opportunity to actually make a difference with the writing I do and be appreciated for it. I am no longer a spectator watching in the sidelines. I am actively participating in this dream.

To fully articulate how this happened is difficult even for me that has developed an artistry of words. I consider it a divine dispensation but more so it is the utter and complete realisation that life is not a dress rehearsal. We don’t get a do over. When I finally got that in the worst life lessons I could have received, my mind expanded into the place of infinity possibility. And now, in awe, I marvel at the way the universe continues to conspire to give me what I always wanted.