THE LONG WALK TO TRANSFORMATION - VI

How have you been finding this series so far? Which emotions have the previous episodes stirred up inside of you? What has been your highest point so far? You see this particular episode? It is what you can call the climax or the peak of this series. You want to read carefully and attentively.

From one phase to the other, moving and relocating, and switching attendance between denominations, if you ask me, I’d say it is a lot. What is it that I was looking for? Find out.

THE “SUDDEN TRANSFORMATION”

(L-R: 2011&2019) - Classic representation of the "sudden transformation"

I know I acknowledged the pastor of the last church I attended to be better than the other three. Why did I not continue then? Let’s just say that I was tired of church. Frankly. I was tired of the bland routine. I was tired of them not teaching the absolute truths. I was tired of the confusion amongst Christians. I was tired of the inconsistencies. I wanted something solid, not prone to human beings’ manipulations. I wanted something deeper, realer and more accessible. I wanted God not a representation of him. I wanted worship not theatrical displays. I wanted depth not merely feeding off the chunks from the pastor’s bible study table. I wanted God for myself not what they said he was. Most of all, I wanted spirituality not religion. Speaking based on my experience, none of the seven churches I attended offered me that.

In 2019, my steps were so ordered; I got to train as a Life Coach, during which period I began to feel and taste my quest more intimately. First, I questioned who I was. Who was I? What was I? Taking a course in coaching does that for you. At least, it did for me. My boyfriend at the time would reply saying, “You know who you are. Don’t let this coaching class confuse you.” But I knew what he did not know. I saw what he did not see.

The little five years old girl who spun herself around a pole in her pink skater skirt, smiling and giggling, totally enjoying herself with carefree abandon. This little girl who would take a break from spinning, hop to where I was standing in awe of her, look up at me, smile and run off again. The little girl, who despite how happy she looked, would say to me, “I just want to be free” and spin round the pole again. That little girl was me. That was me when I was five years old – the age I stopped enjoying systemic growth and had to undergo rapid, sporadic developments in order to meet up with the demands and responsibilities sired into my laps, those of which were unspoken but intuitively communicated. The little girl who had to grow and be strong enough to face whatever whenever. The little girl who had to make decisions for herself. The little girl who wished she could grow like every other girl child, at her own pace, genuinely loved and heard. The little girl who lost the spark in life and only tried to keep her head above the waters in order not to drown. That girl was now asking to be free.

It took the intervention of our Head Coach for me to overcome the recurring nightmares from which I woke up with tears in my eyes. Although I stopped seeing her in my dreams, I continued to see her in daylight as I went about my activities. Her request was singular – I want to be free. So, I had to inquire from her to define the freedom to me. It was simple. She wanted to be free to do the things she had always wanted to do. More so, she wanted to be genuinely loved. Those two things.

I do not want to confuse you further but this is called “Matrix Re-imprinting” in therapy – where your older self holds a conversation with your younger self and you use it to rewire anomalies.

This led me to sitting with myself and I began to list the things I had always wanted to do which, either by virtue of cultural and religious upbringing and most especially the kind of guy I was in a relationship with, I could not do them. Now, I had them written down and frankly, I did not know how it would pan out, considering Mr. Boyfriend was unlikely to shift grounds, not when he needed to hear from God to grant me approval to cut my own hair. Ha-ha! (This topic is for another post.) Nevertheless, immense hope bubbled in me. I felt powerful.

Shortly afterwards, the Universe presented me with my first opportunity to explore one of the items on my list. Against all odds, I plunged in and needless to say that this led to my breakup which I do not regret to this day. Since then, I have never felt happier and freer. The Universe began to present me with materials containing knowledge my soul yearned for.

Finally, I understood why in Year 3 at the Uni, I reasoned that there had to be more to prayer than what we were doing. While it is okay if you have to pray in Jesus’ name, I realised that that is not a guarantee to answered prayers neither is praying for hours nor does adding fasting to the mix make your prayer any more potent than without it.

What do you think?