Establishing boundaries

What should our boundaries be; from relationships to career, to finances, to social life, and every other aspect of life? How much should we exert into things, how should we apportion these, and how much should we let be exerted from us? What should be off limits at different times, what should be accommodated? For instance, as a student, it is usually said that the focus and primary call should be/is working towards excelling in studies; thus, every other thing becomes secondary. In a similar light, what should be primary and secondary in our lives?

It is right for us to start with working on our time usage. Important is the need to imbibe the consciousness that we all have the same 24 hours a day and to only take what we can appropriately ‘chew’ within this time. It may seem weird and a bit off that time is first called to mind when talking about boundaries, but time still remains our most valuable resource, and time-consciousness and value will ever influence our choice of activities. It is within this choice of activities that the call for setting boundaries comes to play. What then follows?

Next is to know what matters. What is important? What is urgent? What is priority? Necessary questions to ask are, “in this season of my life, what am I set to achieve?” “why am I in this stage of life?” “who should I become from this season?” Asking these questions (and more) will draw our minds towards the need for priority and will help us choose the appropriate activities that consequently bring to pass our expectations and desired results. In re-discovering priorities, we then start to know what should be primary and then, secondary. When we know what is primary, and secondary then we work towards putting off limits what should be, and keying into beneficial activities.

So, for a Christian single girl for instance, who has all the ‘unmarried’ time to be totally sold out to God, and to become the best version of herself [without the total responsibility of/for family], her goals should be channeled towards these directions, and based on these, she’d work out what should be accommodated and what should be off limits. She’d set her priorities right and learn to set boundaries around, and protect, and consequently achieve her goals.

Every one of us should therefore continuously work towards setting boundaries to protect and to help us achieve the goals of the different stages of our lives.

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To the boys and girls that won’t let go

Sticking up doesn’t always produce desired results

Letting go may be more beneficial

More excellent

And more spiritual

 

If he says no

If she says no

Let go

If she returns…

If he returns…

Beautiful

But don’t waste your time

And do not make them look bad

For not answering the way you’d have loved

Do not guilt trip

 

You do not want to be managed after all

You want to be loved

You deserve love

Why not give love a chance

Pushing and prodding one who isn’t interested will rob you of the love you so desire

It will stress you and effect damages

 

 

Choosing to pray instead…

For a single godly girl, I think it is better to stay praying and believing that God will bring the right person at the right time, than to engage in engineering hook-ups for ourselves. Usually, our patience will be tried but the hope is that it will be worth it in the end. A question I like to ask in relation to this is if we really/fully know in our own selves (the import of) what we have to be coupled for: that is, in hooking up ourselves in our own way, how sure are we that we are doing the right thing(s)? If for instance, we hinge on crushes, how effective can that be?

I’ve had my fair share of crushes that I clamoured for so dearly, and at different points, swore that it was either them or no one. Eventually however, I realized that I had based my desires on fleeting pleasures and exaggerations, and they all ended in the same fleeting light, and not in a marriage. In addition, I regretted having wasted my time and emotions on something that fleeting.

I’ve also fallen in love: prodding, stressing, desiring, earnestly wanting, hoping and striving, all the while enjoying the feeling. Although this was (or felt) worthier than a crush, it didn’t however end up in a marriage, and left me hurt and almost drained (at least emotionally). It also led to a nearly dented friendship (but for God).

So, is the goal of staying prayed up just to marry? No. It is to stay expectant and in readiness for the blessings God brings our way, which usually includes marriage. If we’re bent on striving in our own strength [think crushing and falling-in-love all over the place], we will be too distracted to see/focus on what God has in stock for us, which is usually not in the way we want it to appear, considering that God delivers beyond our imaginations. If we stay praying however, we’d be aligned with God’s patterns and readily identify what he brings, when he does.

So, what to do with crushes and in-loves? Get responsible and self controlled. Look them in the face for the time wasting and emotional distractions that they are and tackle them. Tell yourself the truth, and tell him(s) if you have to, but do not let something as fleeting waste your time. Time is essential and moves on even when we are not ready to. Therefore, as hard as it is, let us learn to move on and to control our emotions: a man without control over his emotions is like a city broken down without walls.

Let God match us up [marry-us to the right persons], and that way, we’ll definitely be at peace, and in progress, with every other thing.

Selah!

did you notice that you may not have realized that crushing and ‘in-loving’ are ways of self-engineering marital unions? I’m glad I could share this with you.

 

Out of the web

He first saw it live on his aunt’s computer screen. She had always lived with his family, and after she had realized that she shared the same (weird) hobby with him, she had begun to draw him closer to herself. They both loved studying. She first noticed the traces in his curiosity as a growing boy. He would ask her all sorts of questions that she considered more than his age. She had first discouraged him and explained that such behavior would make him to be tagged as a nerd and to become an object of caricature by/for his peers. She however realized that it was a passion that he could hardly control (like hers) then, she began to encourage that habit. She would invite him into her room to study when she was, and afterwards, they would discuss the key points from their study material. Whenever his siblings’ play disturbed his study time in his own room, she would invite him into her room to evade such distractions. After a while of observing him and concluding that he had no pilfering habits, she granted him access to her room in her absence.

One solo study day in his aunt’s room, he grew tired of serious study and wanted something a bit unserious and entertaining. He mopped around for anything that would catch his attention, but nothing seemed forthcoming. He dived on the bed to rest a while as an alternative and as he bounced on the pillow, a novel flew up. He was about to return the book to its position when the cover caught his attention. He had seen his classmates exchange novels with such covers but was never really interested in finding out what they were all about. He considered them too unserious for his taste. This day was different. He was ready to engage any unserious stuff; especially something from his beloved aunt’s room.

As he flipped the pages, it got more interesting. He was excited about the sensual descriptions he met on the pages of the book. It was his first time coming across such. He had never really considered that his body could work in the way that was being described. Nothing that was taught in his biology class really prepared him for this experience. He got to what he considered to be the core of the book: the description of the coitus, and that was when he caught himself wishing he was the man being described in the book. As his insides swelled with excitement, he heard footsteps approaching the door. He quickly returned the book to its position and returned to his serious study position. His life had however, already began to change.

His reasons for solo study moments in his aunt’s room began to change. His mind had begun to wander and to imagine all sorts of sensuality even at odd times. Whenever his aunt stepped out, he would neatly search her room for more unserious stuff. Initially, he wouldn’t find any, which frustrated him. He however learnt to put his frustrations to good use. He would pen down his own fantasies and read them instead. He also began to steal some glances from his friends’ exchanges at school. It gradually stopped being about the love stories between the characters of the book. It became more about the accompanying sexual experiences and about broadening his sexual fantasies. As he kept penning down his growing fantasies, he became less interested in the novels such that when he finally found a couple of them lying around in his aunt’s room, they could no longer match up to his expectations. He soon started to wonder if this wasn’t too much for his fourteen years, so he decided to pedal down a little bit. But it was already late: he couldn’t easily let go.

One day, his aunt had asked him to help her assess some serious stuff on her laptop. He had afterwards, diverted to mopping around his aunt’s system. He found his first video there and naturally preferred it to the novels. So he watched some more. He also memorized the computer’s password and would assess it whenever it was available for more.

The end drew near on the same day he considered himself a genius. His aunt had naturally first called him a genius because of his smart mind. His family had learnt to call him the same and would challenge him to several smart questions beyond his age, of which he never failed. He however considered their reasons very normal and wouldn’t address himself as such. He would only address himself as a genius after he had successfully innovated some serious stuff. So, on the day he saw it live for the first time on his aunt’s screen… the day he saw a clip exactly as one of his penned down fantasies, he accepted the genius title, but he was too afraid to be excited. It suddenly felt wrong. He knew this wasn’t any of the innovations he had aspired towards. This was solely supposed to be unserious stuff. So, it got him very worried and ashamed. As he closed his aunt’s computer, he began to panic. For the first time ever, he felt like a failure. He felt like reaching out for help but couldn’t share with anybody. He felt chained. As he walked out in shame, he bumped into his father.

It was his shivering that caught his father’s attention. As his father asked if all was well with him, he wished for the floor to open and swallow him up. He couldn’t look his father in the face so he bent his head and said nothing. Throughout that day’s dinner, he was morose and didn’t hear his mother ask him a smart question. While his siblings celebrated that their brother wasn’t that much of a genius, the elderly family members knew that something wasn’t really right.

The elderly ones were right because as the father walked across his son’s room later that night, he heard him sobbing. He listened closely and heard him ripping some papers. Confused, he tapped the door. After much silence, the father tapped the door again, and then tried the door knob. It was locked and the silence grew. Out of fear, his father jacked the door open. He found his son drowning himself in his bath tub.

After his return from the hospital, he explained his shame and fears to the elderly family members. His aunt felt bad and soon moved out of their house. His mother felt shocked and wouldn’t speak to anybody. His father however felt glad: glad for the chance to school his son that he was still normal and hadn’t really disappointed the family; glad for the opportunity to let his son know that he was just in the right phase of his teen life; and glad for the opportunity to be able to guide his own son through life experiences and disappointments.

To love and to let go

She didn’t see it coming. Nothing prepared her for it. They were just friends in her book. She couldn’t even remember the inception of their friendship, but somehow, they became best of friends. No strings were supposed to be attached. He was not particularly her spec; but although she wished he were a bit different in some ways, she never loved him any less. They shared the God kind- agape kind- of love, mixed with a lot of pleasantness and some dotes of fondness. They were able to talk freely about anything… until she had to travel out of the state.

Before her travel, he had said he would miss her. The weight was in the way he said it- the emotions… but she was naïve and didn’t understand. She was only quite confused, because they had planned the trip together, and he was almost the instigator of the trip; so why would he claim to miss her that much? She would later consider this moment in retrospect, and understand why he would miss her that much, and wish for it to return, but it would be late.

They became long-distant friends due to her travel, and tried to maintain the friendship. They still considered themselves to be favorite buddies, and talked as much as they could. They were just great friends as long as she knew, until he traveled.

His travel was quite different. It was out of the country, and just as she would ever accuse him, out of sight gradually became out of mind from his angle. She accused him of not thinking much about her. She became angry, and wouldn’t be nice. She wouldn’t even consider that he may have been trying to re-adjust to his new life overseas. He responded, and begged her to understand and to be kind… she couldn’t… she hadn’t figured out the source and reason for her feigned bitterness. By the time she had it figured out: that she was missing him sorely, it was late… he would rather they were silent than having to fight all the time. And she agreed to the silence, as she’d rather sulk than reveal… she was afraid: was she supposed to miss him that badly? She was proud: he wasn’t her spec after all. She tried to chide herself out of it, but the more she did try, the more she realized that she had become emotionally attached to him.

Her friends told her she was in love, but she denied and defended: more to herself than to them. For the most part of her youth, she had carefully prevented and avoided running into such mess with her male friends, so it was hard for her to embrace her new reality.

Since they had become silent-communicating friends, they only way he would know about her new feelings for him was either by a vision or by her own mouth. She waited for the vision to help her out, but none of it was happening. She tried to joke about it and to send green lights, which all failed her. She decided and braced up and let him know. It was very bad; he had not just moved on, he had a girl.

She was left to struggle with herself, her God and her life. She accused life for being unfair, asked God why he watched and did nothing as she plunged into such mess, and chided herself for not being careful enough. But since the beginning of their friendship was vague and unclear to her, the end of it may have decided to be clearer.

 

From Eko Towers

The white expatriate with red scalp

And very soft looking

Very scanty black hair

That wouldn’t look my way

Was he afraid

Did I stare a little too hard

I still admired away

The beauty of our differences

 

The entrepreneur expatriate

Quite studious

Laptop open

Cup of coffee at hand

Or was that tea

Sitting on a table somewhat away

From the noise and the bustle

Scrolling away on his phone

Teaching me to work hard

 

The swimmer expatriate

In the pool

In the rain

In the cold

This must be a different kind of summer

In a way I am yet to experience

 

The cook

The butler

The steward

Domestic whites

Expatriates as well

Such an interesting world

 

The non expatriates

The Nigerians

The staff

The visitors

Alike in body

Different in soul

Some pleasant

Others not

 

The sole fish meal

The best in the pack

Took my soul away

And made me promise

To find a way to eat it as much as I can

 

Expectations… 2

revamped version…

Sweet baby speaks

Kindly check out the first part of this story before continuing.

My name is Zara and I like living as simply and as straight forward as possible. I hardly have the time to deal with complicated lifestyles, and I expect everyone to be able to at least, respect themselves and other people’s choices.

In taking up the opportunity of helping Ptem Company build their client base, I was looking forward to linking up with a lot of professionals and to expanding my network of friends in the process.  I however, did not expect that anyone would as much as verbally despise me for my style, especially, not a high ranking professional. You can thus, imagine my shock when Zite gave me such a ‘rude welcome’ to the company. At first I thought it was an expensive joke, and was willing to let it slide, and just casually remind him not to run sarcastic…

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