I’ve Lost Control of the Trolley.

Harry Potter is one of my favourite movies.

A scene that captivates me is when Ron and Harry try to get onto Platform 9 & 3/4 and instead of running through the magical wall to get onto the platform, they run straight into it. And crash.

As Harry said to the platform instructor in a stuttering voice: “Sorry, lost control of the trolley.”

Right now, I couldn’t think of a better metaphor to describe my life.

From the day we were born, the trolley has been something that we are constantly steering. But not only are we steering it, as we get older we are also adding more and more things, making it heavier and harder to manage.

Everyone on the platform has a trolley, and you can see the different bits and pieces they are carrying, from broomsticks to books and bags. Some people even choose to hide their bits and pieces under an invisibility cloak.

My trolley is filled with flowers, tea and biscuits. Laughter, joy and courage.

But there are also other things on the trolley like fear, angst and sadness.

A common trap is to allow yourself to look at what others have, and judge yourself against what you see. But sometimes what you see is an illusion, and what you feel can be an illusion too.

Your values are the driver of the trolley, and your emotions are simply there for the ride.

Your emotions will jump, scream and yell, but as soon as they begin to overtake your values and begin to steer the trolley, it will loose control.

Just like the Harry Potter scene, the trolley will crash and you will be left with a heap of bits and bobs that make no sense at all.

Very recently, I lost the one person who was everything.

And now I am  picking my bits and bobs off the concrete before they roll away.

For a while, I forgot who was in control of myself: Me. Not my emotional state.

A reason why I may have forgotten is from a distinct lack of self confidence, self love and self appreciation.  I never intended to let these things go, but I possibly never found them in the first place either.

The wall that Harry and Ron crashed into that day was solid because Dobby had put up the barrier.

We see the barrier standing tall, made of bricks, a solid wall. But what if for one moment you believed that although the wall is tall and solid, that you could walk right through it, as Harry and Ron had done countless times before?

This wall is something that I am always battling with. The wall is a representation of the voices inside my head, telling me what to think and how to feel.


But in reality, I am the thinker and the thought is something that my mind has momentarily fabricated.

The thought is not who I am, or what I do. It probably isn’t even how I actually feel about a situation. Because by the time I can even communicate what I am feeling, I have become so sad and self absorbed, that my small problem has turned into an avalanche.

You can only walk through the wall if you believe you can.

And although that task sometimes seems impossible, belief that it will one day happen seems like the first step in being the person I want to be.



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