My Narnia

One day I woke up in my Narnia. I woke up and stepped into an entirely new world. One recognizable, but wholly unknown. It carries many expectations. I stumbbled into it. It happened not quite over night, but at times it felt that way. My Narnia carries no friendly wise character's, there was no Aslan to greet me. I entered at the part where Aslan had died and unfortunately Mr.Tumnus transformed and disappeared before my eyes. The dangers remained recognizable, witches existed in all colors and places trying to turn others to cold stones or arrogant endullgant feens. One had to be steadfast at all times. Dangers lurked everywhere, everything a trap, everywhere a start of a maze that could easily disorient and make one lost. The information I gained from formal education was flipped upside down. There is no place for it in my Narnia.

It's here I would feel the true disappointment of loss. All the recognizable characters were gone. In my Narnia the ladder we all climb is so long it resembles Jack's Bean stock. So thin, it doesn't seem to even have room for one, yet so many of us fight to climb it, thinking it's the way out. I watch as we are plucked off while climbing, the unlucky one's having to start all over from the bottom. At first I thought my Narnia would consume and devour me, decay my soul before I inevitably disappeared. It tries.

I hear Otis in my head, "Two thousand miles I roam, just to make this NOT my home". I smile to myself. I ignore the thought correcting not my home to dock my home. I repeat, "Two thousand miles I roam just to make this NOT my home."

Like the mystery that brought this Narnia to me, these lyrics brought back my identity.

I can roam, I can learn, I can experience a journey even if it leads me no where, even if ultimately I mess it up or others mess it up and home is lost to me. It can be partially up to me. I can make it anything through my power of perspective. Everything waits as a part of a story that has been told before or yet unwritten. I can make this not my home, refuse it while embracing the search. I can be stubborn if I choose. A brat if I wish. I can be defiant. I could even make this place my home, any place. I can be open to it. I can laugh, I can sing, I can do what the moment requires.

"So I guess I'll remain the same", I sing loud....."Wastin' time"

Through Otis's lyrics I was transported back. It's this ability to make the best of things that is my identity. To see things for what they are and adjust. The choices I choose are original to me and the moment. An identity forged from teachings and moments prior. Whether Susanne or the others I can survive after my Narnia, create better chapters.





Sent from my Galaxy