A long time ago in the land of Paxville, there lived a King named Alphaeus. He had a wife called Martha, and they had two beautiful daughters, Clayton and Carol. Alphaeus had a sister named Angela, who coveted his throne. One day, while the princesses were still young, Angela murdered Alphaeus and Martha and took the throne for herself. In her new capacity as Queen, she maltreated Clayton and Carol. Soon enough, the princesses grew tired of Angela's oppression. Carol came up to Clayton one day and said, "Sister, I am leaving to join the army in a foreign land." Clayton tried to make her stay, but Carol was determined and left. Alone, Clayton decided to marry, and so gave herself to a man named Bensot. But Bensot was a bad man, who connived with Queen Angela to oppress Clayton. The marriage did not last. Clayton left Bensot and married another man called General Bansot. With him, she gave birth to two children, David and Mary.
Clayton joined the army as well, and repeatedly challenged her aunt Angela. Time after time in public campaigns Clayton confronted Angela, until the wicked Queen waned and died. Clayton then became ruler of Paxville. She was charismatic and just, and everyone loved her. Everywhere she went, people chanted: "Clayton, we all love you; Clayton, we all need you!" She was famous and powerful. She was an effective and talented leader. But she did not want to be simply Queen of Paxville, she wanted to be Queen of the whole world, and so she left her hometown and went to the center of the world, to the land where her sister had gone, and there she lived out the rest of her life, dying at the ripe old age of 120.
As an elementary school kid growing up in Festac, I used to walk to and from school. As I walked I told myself the story I just narrated. I had never learnt the story from anyone or anywhere, but I told it to myself again and again with remarkable accuracy. The characters in the story, and the plot itself, all seemed manifestly real to me, and I could never forget the tale - it was as real to me as life itself. And as I grew older, the story I had repeatedly told myself as a kid began to perfectly resemble my life. I could find characters in my current life that essentially fit the ones described in the narrative. Plus my whole life itself began to fit the exact plot of the story.
My parents, like Alphaeus and Martha, had died early, and both were from noble families, in essence royalty. A character in my real life possessed all the qualities of Angela, and my private and public relationships with this character were essentially the relationship Clayton had with Angela. After my second parent had died by the time I was 11, I went to live with a family for many years. My relationship with the mother of this household was essentially the relationship Clayton had with Bensot, her first husband. I used to have a bestfriend, and my friendship with him basically resembled the connection between Clayton and Carol. I once had a girlfriend whom I dated for three years. She is the only girl I have ever loved, and my relationship with her essentially aped the one between Clayton and General Bansot. I had two roommates whilst I lived and worked in Kantin-Kwari, and my association with them essentially fit the relationship between Clayton and her children, David and Mary. My biological family with my relationship to all its members basically fits the description of Paxville.
Just as Clayton was a gifted leader, I have charismatic gifts, like public speaking, organization, verbal and literary skills, and frugality. Just as Clayton joined the army, I've trained in organized institutions for most of my life, and I am currently a seminarian. Just like Clayton left her hometown to live in the center of the world, I have left my birth nation to live in the center of the modern world, which incidentally is the place where the bestfriend I once had currently lives. The physical aspects of the story and those of my life obviously do not tally: most girls in the story are boys in this life; the government and name of the lands are different, and the definition of the relationships differ: sister rather than bestfriend; husband rather than girlfriend; husband rather than foster mother, and so on. But essentially the two realities are the same: the reality of the story, and the reality of my early life.
When I was 5, I lost my dad, like Clayton lost Alphaeus. At 11, I lost my mom, like Clayton lost Martha. Later on in life I had a very bitter and rocky relationship with a relative of mine - I won't mention names - whom I blamed for every bad thing that had ever happened to me. I was very angry and bitter at him. He was to me what Angela was to Clayton, and I did live with him for about 5 years. Very hard years those were! I also lived with a family, the mother of which I had another difficult relationship with, a true Bensot, Clayton's first husband - here don't think of husband, but of provider, care-giver, and so on. I also had a bestfriend, and what a bestfriend he was! Our friendship was essentially that shared by siblings, like Clayton and Carol. We cared for each other very much. I then dated a princess, whom I fantasied I would marry, but did not eventually. Here, think of companion, and not husband, and so essentially this girl was General Bansot, Clayton's second husband. My biological family, like Paxville, was the heritage my dad and the relative I spoke about struggled to rule, to have primacy over. And my two roommates at Kantin-Kwari, where I lived and worked and to whom I gave of my money generously, were essentially my children - think here of people to whom a person bequeaths wealth, and not necessarily gives birth to. So, in the psychological aspects of the story, my life was basically similar. And this parallelism hit me clearly when I turned 18! Then for the first time, I told the story and its explanation, just as I have reported it here, to my bestfriend, and told him he was Carol. He smiled. But that was a long time ago. We were having lunch at Surulere when I told him all of this.
But why would my young mind seemingly manufacture such a story and tell it over and over again to me with perfect accuracy? And why would such a story then proceed to ape my real life so neatly? I call the tale "The Divine Story," because I feel it was God that put it into my mind at such a young age. Now, if I believed in reincarnation, I would say that in a past life I actually was Clayton - a princess that lived a rocky life, tormented by Angela and Bensot, beloved by her sister and General Bansot - who migrated to the center of the known world of her time. This Clayton did not live perfectly enough, and so had to be reincarnated into the life of an African boy, whose early life resembled Clayton's entire being. This African boy, having mentally resolved the plot of Clayton's existence, would then spend the rest of his life squaring it away so as to never have to deal with vestiges from Clayton's life-path ever again.
As a Catholic however, I simply call the story of Clayton's life my psyche story. Psyche story is a term I made up, so there isn't a dictionary definition for it. A psyche story is a road map, a layout, blueprint - architectural design, if you like - of a person's soul. This story explains and dictates an individual's personality. It is the x-ray of a person's mind in all its ramifications, hidden and exposed. It contains motifs and themes and the substance of all what makes a person who they are. It is like a person's software, where the body is the hardware. In the psyche story, a person finds the lesson God intends for them to learn in the current life. This is what I am getting at. I think I know what God wants me to learn in this life.
Humility. In one word, God wants me to learn humility. You see, for me the psyche story is over. I have already mourned the loss of my parents. I have already forgiven the individual I said was to me what Angela was to Clayton. I have so completely forgiven him that I wish for him exactly what I wish for myself - perfect happiness, which is what God wishes for everyone. I have also forgiven the individual who was to me essentially Bensot. I have mentally let go of claims to primacy within my biological family. I have already migrated and made a little success of myself as a teacher in the center of the world. I have given up material pursuits, and mentally sacrificed the relationships I had with my bestfriend and my girlfriend permanently, both of whom currently share no relationship with me. I have in short permanently expired the psyche story, and there is no chance of ever experiencing it again.
I have moved from tolerating my early life to understanding its principle, which was the psyche story, and now I am moving on with this current life, my own life. Evolving from the Clayton story in any case, there is one thing I need to resolve. You see, Clayton was egocentric. Even though it was not completely wrong for her to challenge and confront Angela over and over again for the throne, it showed her to be too interested in material wealth and position. Clayton was proud. Her sister Carol chose a different path. When she saw what was going on in Paxville, she simply did not want a part of it. For Carol, it was not worth the trouble. One might say: Well that's not surprising; after all, Carol wasn't the first child. But that isn't the point. The point is that Carol realized early enough that there was more to life than material wealth, honor, power and recognition.
Clayton on the other hand lived her life blinded by a desire to avenge her parents' death and removal from power. For all her life, she lived in hatred of Angela. She could not begin to live her life freely, always consumed with hate and bitterness as she was. She challenged Angela, and coveted the throne of Paxville. She used her sexuality, beautiful princess that she was, to ally herself with a powerful General that aided her cause. She was so ambitious that she was not satisfied simply to rule Paxville - she wanted to rule the whole world. She gloried in the chants she heard everywhere: "Clayton, we all love you; Clayton, we all need you." She exalted in the knowledge that she was a charismatic and effective queen; wealthy, influential, powerful and well-respected.
Lucifer the devil was also proud. He was so proud that he sought the throne of God. He and his cohort of angels were too headstrong to be controlled, and they even dared to consort with women of the earth, as the bible tells us. Instance after instance, God has resisted the proud and headstrong: Saul, Goliath, Vashti, Naaman, Holofernes, Nebuchadnezzar, Haman, and so on. Conversely, he has loved the humble: Maria Maris Stella, Jacob, Abraham, Isaac, David, Moses, Joshua, and so forth. Indeed the bible describes Moses as the humblest of men. In my own life, I have noticed elements of pride. Recall that when God was sending Lucifer out of heaven he did not take away his powers. Similarly, I like Clayton have charismatic gifts, but in the past I have used my gifts and my self in ways that have shown me to be ambitious, and desirous of self aggrandizement. Others have noticed and have complained. I have gloried in my literary powers, and my gift of speech. I have gloried in my academic successes and accomplishments. I have sometimes disdained the less-than-gifted. I have turned up my nose at the unfortunate, and sometimes said it was their fault that they were that way. I have held grudges and insisted on having my own way. I have been hard to control.
But through the difficult circumstances of life, I have progressively learnt humility - I haven't gotten there yet, but I am well on the way. At a point in my life - I think I was 26 at the time - I finally decided to stop hating the individual that was essentially Angela in my life. At 26, it finally dawned on me that I didn't need to fight for primacy within my biological family. I realized that the earth was spacious enough for me and my Angela. At 26, I began to replace a thirst for earthly success with a desire to simply do the will of God. It was then that the psyche story began to end. By the time my bestfriend forsook me completely, I had begun to see his permanent removal from my life as a sacrifice of the last vestige of the psyche story, a jettisoning of the last anchor that bound me to old, cumbersome lessons. In choosing to join my current religious community, I chose to sacrifice the manipulative sexuality that Clayton once used to ally herself with General Bansot in her quest to undermine Angela. Instead, I resolved to use my sexuality to love selflessly.
Freely you have received, freely give, says the bible. Everyday, I take up the cross of poverty, chastity and obedience and follow my savior Jesus in my religious calling. As a religious priest, I will not own anything: no land, no house, no car. Even the little personal effects I will own, like shirts, pants and a toothbrush - all of these will be disposed of by my religious community when I die. If I am lucky to be a religious priest someday, and I make money through say, writing spiritual books like Iyanla Vanzant, or through a healing ministry, or through anything I do - all these monies: gifts, stipends and royalties will go to the society for the sustenance of novices, seminarians and dependents. In short, I will be living each day not for myself but only for others: Mother Church, my society and a country that is not my birth nation; asking for no personal reward, but only striving for the will of God and the salvation of souls. Dying daily to self, learning to be as humble as a lamb.
Being humble in every way therefore is my life's calling: simple, sensitive, selfless and saintly. Humble. I want to learn this lesson, and God has fashioned my soul through its life's circumstances in such a way that I have no choice but to be humble: a dusky African middle-child immigrant on a student visa, with a troubled background, and with no parents or support; sojourning in a foreign land and striving to answer God's call to serve him as a Catholic priest within a religious community under promises of poverty, chastity and obedience. How can one be proud in such circumstances without ending up a tragic tale? Seems quite impossible. Anyway. I dream of one day someone telling me: "In truth Samuel, you are the humblest person I have ever known." It has happened before. I hope it happens again.
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