What do you do when you wake up to find yourself utterly devoid of faith, in yourself and in the process, as the meaning behind the work in which you have been passionately and obsessively immersed is lost momentarily.
You might take a look inward in search of some reassurance, an internal whisper that suggests that you are indeed on the right path. You’re not going to find it elsewhere, after all. And so perhaps that’s just what you decide to do, and maybe you do find it; you become reinvigorated, and a surge of newly acquired hope and determination flows through you. You begin to reframe and see things in a new light; those obstacles that once appeared to be holding you back and obstructing your progress, reveal themselves as opportunities for learning, cues that call you to action and force you to go in search of alternative avenues for progression. Perhaps. And just as day becomes night, the doubt closes in once more.
It’s a constant battle.
I wrote a few months back (or it may have been weeks, I can never tell in this place) that I intended to bring down the curtain on this online journal; when I read back over that article now, it’s shocking the certainty with which I had put my words together on the page. Make no mistake about it, I’ve doubted myself a lot during this process. I’ve doubted my writing ability. I’ve doubted my capacity to create something of value, of substance. I’ve doubted the journey. I’ve doubted the decisions and sacrifices that I’ve made along the way and that have led me to where I am today, right here and now, thousands of miles from home clutching the pen between the tips of my fingers.
And yet, as I scribble and allow my awareness to drift slightly, and as I observe myself writing with absolute contentment and oblivious disregard for everything around me- blissfully unaware- I am somehow reminded that I am indeed on the right path. Not least, that all is well. And that awareness is as terrifying as it is invigorating. Because this is, in many ways, all that I truly have.
I think back to that article and how I felt at the time of writing, the various external factors that were at play which perhaps may have had an influence, and I wonder if I could go back to the beginning, almost 3 years to the day since I pressed publish, would I change anything.
No, I wouldn’t even flinch.
I’m sure that there will be many more days where I will doubt myself, when the nature of the journey comes into question and my motives become unclear; at the end of it all the most important thing is to find meaning and fulfilment in the process. I tell myself, at least. And the mere fact that I had the good fortune to be able to unearth an awareness within of the activities that enrich my soul, is cause enough for daily celebration, I think.
The moments where we find clarity and reassurance- when we are made to believe that all is well and that there is indeed profound meaning connected to the pursuit- those are the moments to treasure. And so as I lift the pen from the page and think about all that has transpired since embarking on this journey- the laughter, and the tears, the triumphs, and the defeats- I think to myself, Not yet.