Birds fly North

Winter has arrived, it is no secret.  She hardly greeted us with that rude demeanour.  She barely shook our hands, or tried to ease us in.  No, she arrived like an unwanted guest at a dinner party.  Flung her lifeless belongings all over our lives.  Made us change plans to accommodate her.  Now we have to deal with her cold personality.  She glares at our futile attempts to warm up to her, leaving us feeling awkward and out of place.

It is time to bury our short shorts, weightless sandals and the tiny tops that took half the time to launder.  Now we have to unearth those water bottles, thick blankets, heavy coats and boots.  She came bearing no good intentions, only death.  She restricts us and frightens us with her threats of illness.

Even the Sun turns away in her presence.  The days grow shorter out of fear of her wrath.  The grass loses its colour, the flowers shrivel and die.  The animals hide in darkness.  Even the birds fly North.  Not us.  We cannot leave.  She has cornered off any hope for escape.  We cannot see beyond the cold.  Her bitterness blinds us.  She imprisons us with the illusion of loneliness.

No one else feels the cold like I do.  No one else is as weak as I am.  I am never going to see this through.  It is better to die in the cold, when I have nothing more to lose.  That is what Winter does to us.  She isolates us from reality.  She feeds off our doubt.  She breaks us from the inside.

We are not birds, we cannot fly away from our problems.  We cannot set up temporary shelters and live off the Earth.  We are humans, and we complicate things, naturally.  We cannot die without putting up a fight.  We are humans, and we fight, naturally.

What is it that makes us believe that we can still live despite our losses?  What is it that gives us strength to endure Winter?  What gives us hope to know that the Sun will turn to face us again and warm up our lives?  Winter comes and takes away every part of our being, but what are we holding onto so faithfully?

There are over 7 Billion people in the world, and everyone of us believes that we live for a reason. Not one of us is an accident, no matter how controversial the circumstances of our conception.  Everything about us is intentional.  Our purpose is embedded in our DNA and we will not allow it to slip away from us because we own it.  That is why birds fly North in the Winter.  They risk their lives on that laborious journey because they know they live for a greater purpose and they will risk losing their lives to fulfil that purpose.

We endure Winter because we hold onto the hope of our destiny.  I realised that I did not choose my destiny, my destiny chose me.  I keep fighting, because something else chose me first.  We keep fighting because we have a purpose.  We only stop until we are sure that it has been fulfilled.  We were not made to fly North, we were made to fight for that in which we believe.  We bear the cold, because even though Winter has come to kill and destroy, Summer will return, in glorious victory. 

Fight for your future, because you have one.