What The Whisperer saw

BY WOLE OGUNTOKUN
AT a low point in The Whisperer’s life many years ago, when he had not yet developed the ability to raise shields that would block his heart from needless and uncontrollable pain, his favourite uncle looked at him, observing what he was going through and told him at his most heart-broken, “You will recover from this. You will look back at these times, smile to yourself and wonder why it seemed the world was about to come to an end.”
That seemed impossible then; the skies were permanently grey, the sun refused to shine and food tasted like sawdust.
It seemed as if the pain The Whisperer was going through was the kind that no human could recover from (yes, he learnt early the true meaning of pain).
You might wonder what might have happened to make an uncle decide he had to make his support and advice audible.
The reason was this — The man not yet known as The Whisperer then and fresh out of school had decided he had found true love. He pursued it, made it his and had then discovered to his utmost chagrin that the heart was a fragile thing, breakable and able to render you ineffectual when not working at full capacity.
The Whisperer had made that mistake that none should, except it is done to the truly worthy; he had put his life on hold for another, in many ways.
This act in itself is a truly noble one and The Whisperer encourages it if you are so inclined, but it is the same with casting pearls or laying a cloak over a puddle of water; you have to be sure the recipient bears no physiological association with swine and is not wearing muddy boots.
So The Whisperer climbed steadily out of the dark pit he found himself in, learning that most important of lessons, “it’s not who you love; it’s who loves you”.
In retrospect, she wasn’t anywhere near cerebral enough for The Whisperer, though he was blind to that fact at the time he was embroiled with her and in truth, hindsight shows she would have added nothing to him.
The years have gone by, and he is no longer that young school leaver beset by worries and inconsistency and the person who attempted to turn his life inside out has since come back many times, to ask for forgiveness and reconciliation. But lightning never strikes twice in the same place and neither does The Whisperer.

THERE is an oddity about relationships. When associations we really care about, suffer knocks or begin to disintegrate (and the strongest of these sometimes do so for unfathomable reasons), no one else really seems to understand what we are going through.
The pain is like open-heart surgery without anaesthesia and the future is stark...and bleak. We cannot contemplate life without this person and we just want to sit down and die.
People tell you to be strong, not to be despondent, to move on with your life, but you just want to stay in bed forever.
You cannot figure out how the sun can still be shining outdoors when there is so much gloom and darkness all around you.
You are asked whether you think this former partner is wasting away, pining about you the way you are, about him or her. But the answer to that is irrelevant to you.
You are comforted by the tears you cry into your pillow each night as you call this former love’s name in between agonising gasps, wrenching agony and trying to catch your breath.
This is The Whisperer’s verdict. There is no situation so bad that you cannot recover from. If the person who has left you in misery is getting on with his life, why should you stay in the doldrums? Shake off the sadness and tell yourself you are worth more than you have been offered.
You must never forget no one can write on your back unless you bend it. So, someone you thought your life was in synch with has decided he or she has had enough of you.
It would be a block of wood that would feel no pain at the loss of the promise of what could have been.
Yet, it is a defeated person who stays on the ground after he or she has been struck down. You owe it to yourself to get up, no matter how many times you have hit the canvass.
The only reason you can stay down is if you are tired of living and then this column is not for you.
I write only to those who know they deserve better than the cards they have been dealt, only to those who can find the anger that will raise them back to their feet and keep them standing.
When we succeed, our pride betrays us; when we fail, it supports us. You must tap into your pride and drag yourself up no matter how far down you think you have sunk.
If another does not think too much of you or regards you with too little respect, walk away while you still can. It might be painful for a while but you will be able to hold your head up in the air.

PEOPLE will deal with your wares in the same manner you have displayed them. If they are strewn everywhere and not properly arranged, it will be obvious to intending “purchasers” that you, the “owner” of the wares do not hold your own goods in high esteem. If you do not, no one on the outside is compelled to give more respect than you are demanding.
The person who was the reason for an uncle’s advice many years ago has become friends of sorts with me now but it is difficult to fathom several years on, why the young man who became The Whisperer was so fascinated by her.
Time lends perspective to all things, gives a sense of self-worth and teaches self-respect.
Your life is yours to live; let no other take away from the pleasure and satisfaction you should derive from being whom you were born to be.
laspapi@yahoo.com