To Steve

I feel like I have a lot of explaining to do. My previous posts have generated quite a lot of reaction in recent weeks.

The most frequently asked questions of late: Are you okay? How are you doing, really?

A friend of mine recently remarked that it takes great emotional upheaval for one to write in poetry and prose.

I can't help but agree.

Nonetheless, the human body is a curious thing, and it has a way of shutting down some faculties in a bid to cut damage and conserve its fast depleting resources. It's been such a week. A series of lamentably funny but unfortunate events.

A bad bout of food poisoining that literally and figuratively drained all colour from my face and emptied the life out of me. Confined to bed, it would've been the perfect time to reflect upon the state of my inner being and the myriad of events that have ruffled my feathers of late. But I was quite unprepared for the aches and pains coursing through my body: the swollen tummy, a throbbing head that was as heavy as lead, limp limbs, and a world that was spinning faster than my slow mind could comprehend.

Against the doctor's orders, I was back at work on day 2. And it was hardly an easy ride. First with a flat tire and on day 3 an engine that stubbornly refused to start. And to top it all off, I tipped a whole tray of mini chocolate mousse cups onto the floor. The rich chocolate batter of which I had so painstakingly whipped up only minutes earlier. Needless to say, they never made it to the table for Australia's Biggest Morning Tea on day 4.

But it took one act of undeserved grace out of the abundance of one man's heart to put an end to my fast downward spiral. I was angry and bitter, but one man made everything better. A man who first gave to me. Nevermind that my abandoned broken car was obstructing his driveway while I rushed to work in another vehicle. He changed the tire for me when I came home that evening. He pumped on my accelerator to start my car the following morning.

This man gave unto me first, when I had little reserve in me to give. And his generosity has sparked fresh faith and hope in me again, and inspired me to love others from a wellspring of life that has been unplugged from within.

I know there is still much that is gnawing at my inner being, and the time will come where I must broker peace amdist the conflict and contradictions that is my life right now. A new season is pressing in, and the time is near where I shall do the math and count the cost of monastic living. I sense the still small voice calling above the clutter and noise, and time shall wait for no man as the wheat grows amongst the tares.

But for now, I'm thankful and grateful. To Steve, who first served me, and saved me from my sin: who reminded me of what it means to be human, and ejected me so unexpectedly from the game of shame, blame, strife and slavery - of anger, bitterness and futility.

To Steve. Thank you.