Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Last night someting happened. I was talking to K and in the course of it I realised many things. Foremost among these was that I had forgotten the vision that took me to Hungary. The details of how I arrived at this are not really relevant - they were a synchronicity of events over which I had no control. But I felt a return of the vision, of the deep conviction that I had to move there; that there was work for me to do.

And the most important thing is that the work was largely unstarted by the time I left. For what happened was that I became overwhelmed at the scale of what I had seen and lost all confidence that I could even approach realising it. It seemed so damn big and I felt so damn small. Not only that but I felt frightened. i felt that I was hubristic, particularly as my own personal life was in such a mess -purely as a result of my actions. So I aimed small and tucked the vision into a neat little pocket in my consciousness where I always hide away the uncomfortable truths that I do not wish to face. And forgot it.

What became clear last night was, however, that this forgetting may have been a necessary part of the process. For I had to realise who I am and what I have been called to do. In order to do this, I had to aim low and fail. Now I know that I must aim high for only then can I hope to hit the distant target. I must remember the vision and keep that in my sights.

For the vision was real, and it still is. This is what I learned last night. It came to me; I did not seek it. It has, in different forms, been with me as long as I can remember. Sometimes, it has been clear and direct, as it was that day when I first went to Dobogöko and saw the Danube hundreds of metres below. Memories of a time when I had been there before flooded into me and I felt both at home and thorougly alien. It was strange and it was exhilarating. Until the doubts set in and I came face to face with my own imperfections - my petty hurts and grievances - and I enacted them. By turns grandiose and self-effacing, I struggled in the day-to-day and sank ever deeper into despair, losing all that I had previously held dear in the process. And returned, feeling defeated, to England.

The operative word here, however, is "feeling". For I was not, in fact, defeated. I am still here and yesterday realised that so is the vision. It has not gone. I cannot fully articulate it yet, but the time is soon approaching that I can. I will, Inanna willing, return to Hungary to take aim again. But I will be stronger and more determined; less limited by fear and uncertainty. I will own the vision and the source of that vision. For it did not come from me. I did not seek it. I fled it. But I could not escape it. Now I must learn to embrace it