Gratitude To My Pinnacle in Nigeria

 

I stood there, lost in my meditation. I gazed at the space, feeling on top of the world.

The countless roof gave me a puzzle and the glory thereof made me cry. Not because I’m a crybaby or some calamities had landed on the roof. It was because I saw what makes me strong. And that ignites my hope.

That fateful afternoon, I focused on the sky. The warm breeze matched my temperature. And the sight was so much a food for me.

Before I went there, I was lonely and depressed, like no sign of happiness has ever crossed my path.

My friends saw me alone. My family became worried. They’d thought I was sad, disappointed or maybe worried as they were. Or maybe I was sorrowful for not achieving a goal. They even came to stare me up hoping their ginger in my sour soup would trigger the exhausted me.

But that wasn’t my meditation. I didn’t need or want that. They weren’t in the position to help. So I went the stairs to a very high height I could call “my pinnacle.” It was spacious and high that I could see roofs far away.

Then the spirit came. My hope rekindled. I felt that happiness again. My bones received strength. And my joints never fluctuate like before.

I got the help I searched for – a sight and sensation. I rejoiced over the victory, or maybe achievement. I felt happy being alone, right on my pinnacle. Or tower. Or mountain.

I saw houses, roads, cars, green pastury fields and other beautiful images I’ve imagined and desired seeing afar from a very high position.

That experience fueled my gut and engineered my pursuing my writing career at my best capability. I have the confidence to leave my friends and family, to embrace the exploration that sends cold sensation down my spine, and joy all over my face and mind. I felt high without sniffing any powder or gulping a bottle of alcohol.

Inspiring! Right? That’s it.

Because your inspiration medium is waiting too, to rekindle your hope and to emotionally back you up, somewhere, somehow.

It may be listening to music, writing, drawing.

Or perhaps travelling. Where highway lights bubble like paradise. And the vehincle speed engaging as ever. Where mountains and valleys lie between greener pastures, and the skies turn blue. Where the anime sprinkles on the field, playing and playing… Where the birds flip and flap, and sing the thinest suprano.

That may be your generating source. You should go re-generate. If it’s in Malaysia, go get it. If it finds its way to Australlia, fly over there. If it hangs on your roof, then get a ladder.

Yes, you know what you’re doing. Yes, you know your family won’t understand. Yes, you know your friends won’t concur with it.

But you need to solidarise with your inspirating source, anchor with nature and get the best no one can offer.

As for me, any opportunity to go high, I go. Any opportunity to climb the roof, I’ll do. To see the lovely habitation of the homo-sapiens. To regain strength and might for the world’s warfare.

Gratitude to my pinnacle!!! I would’ve not been more strong and hopeful.

 

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One response to “Gratitude To My Pinnacle in Nigeria

  1. Dear WeSaidGoTravel Team,

    Thanks for the lovely opportunity to publish my article. And I’m looking forward to people sharing their meditation, desires – “just!” anything their friends and family couldn’t understand, but deep down it bothers them. Thanks for the privilege once again.

    Regards,
    Abraham.

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