Wedding Festival & Mind Power

 Cape Town Wedding Festival, 2012                                                                    24  November 2012

Today I sang at the Cape Town Wedding Festival, on Rustenberg Wine Estate, in Stellenbosch. It’s a 17^th Century wine farm, rich in history, and I loved being there! What’s even better, is that I’ll be back there tomorrow! I was so determined to perform there for the two days, that I came up with the perfect solution – to work with my two favourite guitarists: today I did a set with Keith Tabisher, and tomorrow I’ll be working with Wayne Bosch. It’s very exciting – today’s accompaniment to my singing was the sound of two acoustic (nylon) guitars, and tomorrow, Wayne will be adding his electric guitar to my acoustic sound. 

The live music slots are back-to-back, so the hour includes setting up, which means you actually perform for about 45 minutes. Before our set, there was a young lady with a voice like an angel. I’m sorry, I can’t remember her name – should’ve taken her card. She plays guitar and uses backtracks, as well, sometimes putting her guitar down and using just the track. I’ll get her name tomorrow. After us, a pianist who looks like Michael Moll (South African tv personality) did a set. Once again, even though I chatted to him, I’ve forgotten his name! Tomorrow I’ll take people’s business cards.

One card that I did take today was that of a lady selling a product called Zari. It’s an alcohol-free sparkling grape drink, and it’s delicious. A wonderful addition to the table of revellers who, like me, prefer to avoid alcohol.  

There’s something about a Nomad tent that resonates with the gypsy in me, and that’s where I found myself singing today. Apparently, the live music was supposed to have been under the trees, but because it was raining, they moved everything into one of the Nomads. Perfect!

I really enjoyed working with Keith today - we did an exciting selection, covering our favourite rhythms: swing, bossa, samba and ballad. Tomorrow I’ll do a different repertoire, because the stallholders will hear me again, so they might as well hear new material. Also, I believe that, just as individuals have different personalities, so do duos. Different energy, different fun. There are songs that work better with Keith, and others that work better with Wayne.

It’s about 65km from my house to the farm, and I used the time alone, while driving, to do my Mind Power exercises. Today’s the end of Week 5 of my current programme, and I’m feeling very good! I’m motivated in so many areas of my life, and feeling an improvement in my life, in general. I’m more excited about life and finding so many things working in my favour, as I fill my mind with goals and work steadily towards them. 

I always say this about Mind Power – the belief in it, as well as the practice of it: it’s a very personal thing. One thing I know is, I could easily keep this going for the rest of my life.

The Six Laws of the Mind:

1. Thoughts are real forces.
2. The mind is both a sending and receiving station of thought.
3. The Law of Attraction – any thought which is magnetised/thought with emotion/intensity, has the power to attract similar and like thoughts.
4. The Law of Control – we are not at the mercy of our thoughts; instead, we have the power to control our thoughts.
5. The Law of Insertion – we have the power to insert any thought of any kind into our minds, at any time, in any place.
6. The Law of Connection – the inner and outer worlds are connected. We generally react to what’s happening in the external world and behave accordingly, but Mind Power teaches us to set up an expectation or a preferred outcome inside our minds and, in so doing, control the external world. 

My weekly exercises usually consist of the basic techniques taught in the discipline: acknowledging, affirming, contemplating and the creation of a new/preferred reality in one’s mind through visualising and ‘seeding’. Visualising is a well-known technique, where you picture your goal as if it’s already been  realised. ‘Seeding’ is a technique where you experience the emotions that go with the realisation of the goal. So, in your creating period/session, it’s like you’re running a movie of the achievement of your goal in your mind. You go through the same thing every day, until it’s so real, you feel like you’ve done it already. In fact, by the time you achieve your goal, you’re not surprised, because you’ve been there before.

What I found, recently, was that I enjoyed the seeding and visualising so much, that it spurred me on to take concrete steps towards realising a particular goal. What’s of particular interest to me, with this exercise, is that scientists have proved that the brain can’t distinguish between pictures of things we’ve actually seen and pictures we’ve merely inserted into our minds. Cool! It’s also exciting that part of the technique is that you not be restricted by reality.

Two books have shaped my outlook on life tremendously, in the past 9 years: ‘Mind Power into the Twenty-First Century’ (John Kehoe) and ‘The Art of Possibility’ (Benjamin Zander and Ros Stone Zander). It’s good to be back, following the teachings of these books. Another book that I found powerful but very painful to read, because it hit me in the solar plexus with its insight and brutal honesty, was ‘Women Who Love Too Much’, by Robin Norwood.

But the book that’s had the biggest influence on me ever has got to be ‘Women Who Run With The Wolves’, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I owe it to myself to read more of her work.

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Day 2 at the Cape Town Wedding Festival was even more beautiful than Day 1: the sun shone brilliantly, and this time we set up under the tress, on a lovely green lawn/meadow. Working with Wayne after a few months was indescribably satisfying. He played his guitar with all the finesses and sensitivity that make him the gifted soloist and accompanist he is. I met a few people who were stallholders, and have two potential wedding bookings.

As beautiful as the farm was, I think its distance from the city centre may have deterred festival regulars, as most of the stallholders said there hadn’t been many people attending this year. Definitely something for the organisers to consider next year.

Well, I had so much fun, I sincerely hope to be there again next year, wherever it is!  

As I return to the daily minutiae of life, I know for sure that my soul craves wide open spaces, that my spirit soars when I’m in nature and its uncomplicated energy, and I know without a doubt that music makes me happier than anything else.

It’s as simple as that.

Synaesthesia

Written: October 2012

One of the constants of my life, for many years, has been the hectic schedule, the frenetic pace. This past week was exception, even though it was my week without my children.  Week One back at school after the brief holiday, and I’m right back to wondering what the hell made me think I could do this. All I want to do is teach English, but I spend most of my time reprimanding kids for their unruly behaviour. It seems like nothing I say gets through to some of them, as they flagrantly push boundaries - burping, farting, getting up and walking around, talking and laughing loudly and vulgarly while I’m teaching, sometimes even leaving the room without permission.  

I stand in front of these classes, and every now and then I seriously consider packing my bags, leaving the room and just going home. One thing I know for sure is that MY choice for MY life is peace and harmony. What I don’t want to do for a living is shout at teenagers and feel the frustration that I currently do when I’m trying to teach. We’re not allowed to send kids out of the room, so they come, they behave abominably, they prevent me from teaching and their classmates from learning, and no matter how much I threaten, there’s nothing I can do. 

I need a happy solution to my employment situation, so that when this contract expires, I have something new and wonderful to look forward to. I sincerely believe it’s possible.

I create karma by the choices I make.

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I recently read a newspaper article (“When music colours your world”, by Sisi Lwandle; Weekend Argus, 6 October 2012) that made me realise that something I’d been experiencing for a few years has a name: synaesthesia. In the article, it is described in this way: “Synaesthesia is a complicated neurological condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a secondary sensory or cognitive pathway. For example, you hear music (audio) and you see colour (visual).”

I first became aware of this about 7 or 8 years ago, at a time that I was gigging regularly, practically every weekend. The very first time I experienced colour while singing was during a performance in the trio, “Jazz, etc.” with Keith Tabisher (guitar) and Donald Gain (bassist); I close my eyes when I sing, and it was while my eyes were closed that I started feeling like I was inside a colour, or that the colour was inside me. I need to find a way to articulate this sensation. It’s an extremely strong awareness of a colour. And it’s a very pleasurable sensation. You don’t choose the colour, it just appears. I suppose it chooses you.

Today (Sat 13 Oct), I went to a women’s breakfast event, organised by Inez Woods, founder of the WAG (Women Against the Grain) Network. One of the guest speakers did a meditation exercise with us. She talked us into a state of relaxation, just as we were, sitting in our seats. As I allowed myself to relax as fully as I could in that physical space, I started to experience beautiful, almost-translucent shades of blue and green, like colours of the ocean, mingling with each other. It was such a place of peace and light, I wished it would never end. But it did, as I came out of the meditative space.  I asked if anyone else in the room had experienced a colour during the meditation, and only two out of the +- 30 women said they had.  

Last Sunday, after reading the newspaper article, I wrote a song in which I included a few lines alluding to the phenomenon. Singing it for the first time tomorrow. I’m doing a set of originals with Keith Tabisher at Baran’s Theatre Restaurant, in a concert also featuring Jahm, a four-piece band, and Mish Hendricks, a dancer.

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I’ve started asking musicians I know if they experience colour while they’re making music, and so far not one of the people I’ve asked has answered in the affirmative. Although one of them did say that he probably would, if he smoked something special. J

One evening last year, I was talking to Errol Dyers at Don Pedro’s, and he actually mentioned, in passing, that he had this colour awareness when he played. In fact, he was quite self-effacing, prefacing it with, “I know this might sound strange to you”. Our conversation was interrupted, so it was only the next time I saw him, that I was able to tell him that, not only did I not find it strange, but that I did, too.

[So far I’ve asked 8 musicians – all No’s.]

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Make your own magic

 Written 28 September 2012

Breaking up day! Can’t believe it’s been only two months since I started working at the high school I’m at. What a journey it’s been, and I’m only halfway through my contract. I started out enthusiastically, idealistically believing that somehow the universe had sent me there for some greater purpose that would be revealed to me. What can I say? I’m a singer-songwriter – nothing’s ever straight-forward; the contract teaching post, after four months of unemployment, was never going to be just a job. I really felt (and still do) that the universe had started turning things around for me, because I’d been through so much in the past two years.  

On Day 1, I did an introductory talk to all of the classes I met, telling them about my background as an educator, giving a bit of a pep talk, eliciting from them their understanding of the roles of educators and learners, and laying down ground rules for our times together. I have to smile now, when I think about how quietly they all listened and how impressed I was with their behaviour. There was one class, however, which let me know - in no uncertain terms – that they didn’t do well with rules. Two months later, I fully understand what they meant! J Interestingly enough, that’s the class I’ve had my most bizarre experiences with. And probably the class I’ve grown to love the most. (Oh, Trudy – you’re so intense! Heehee – how many times have I heard that?)

By Day 2, I started to realise how naïve I’d been the day before; these kids were not used to my approach, and I had not been in a high school teaching post for 5 years, so I had honestly forgotten what the dynamics were. My most recent teaching experience, which ended in March this year, had been at an FET (Further Education and Training) college, teaching adults. That was a walk in the park, compared to what I found myself faced with at high school.

Yes, I’m an idealist. I’m also a born teacher. And I love teaching. I love teaching English, and I know I’m an effective teacher who can make a difference in the lives of my students. So, armed with that set of beliefs about myself, imagine what a crushing experience it was to find that the children in my classes weren’t interested in either English or me! Haha! So much for my lofty ideal of “making a contribution to the new South Africa by empowering historically- disadvantaged people through the teaching of English”. Yup – that’s one of my life’s goals. Like I said, I’m an idealist. I really wouldn’t know how to live without ideals. Imagine waking up every morning with nothing to look forward to. Reminds me of my last relationship. But, I digress.  

I think I spent the first two to three weeks feeling like a fish out of water, doing a daily countdown, and praying that I would survive. Then, somewhere along the way - I’m not sure when, how or why - I felt like, somewhere inside of me, an ON switch had been flipped. I started feeling different about school, about the children, what I was there to do and how I would do it. I promised myself that, no matter what, I would always be true to myself, sticking to my values and principles. My best friend’s words echoed in my head: Make your own magic.

Everything moves very fast, at a high school. Just as I’d started to enjoy being at the school and to find my groove with the discipline issue, we hit exams. Setting of question papers and memos, followed by the actual exam period – two weeks of a completely different system, classes split up and learners spread throughout the school, and, worst of all, no teaching! Two weeks of getting used to that and then the schlep of markingmarkingmarkingmarking……! Then - reports, remarks, learners fetching their reports on the last day, teachers exhaustedly taking their leave of each other before the brief, one-week school holiday…..and then……nothing. No end-of-term staff lunch or tea, just me walking to my car, confused, disappointed. Anticlimax.   

After a 4-day period in which I’d had a total of 8 hours’ sleep (marking!), I made my way home, had something to eat, lay down on my bed, and slept. There’s something so primal about being sleep-deprived; nothing that money can buy can give you what you need– you just need to lie down somewhere, close your eyes, and slip into that mysterious, all-forgiving world. And this is what I did. I slept until my exhaustion had cleared, woke up a few hours later, and felt so much better.

We have a one-week break, and then it’s back to school for the last term. My contract expires at the end of November and at the moment I don’t have a job lined up for December or next year. I know about five available English teaching posts, though, and over the next few days I’ll be focussing on submitting my applications.

But how’s this for a dilemma: the FET sector, where I’d work as a lecturer, with older students, in a far more relaxed and progressive environment, where there’s a more enlightened approach to post-apartheid education and strict adherence to the laws governing educator conduct (e.g. no lecturer at a college would EVER cross the line and abuse a student verbally or physically), would pay me a salary that’s much lower than what I’d earn at a primary or high school. Why? Because the college sector, even though part of the same education department (WCED), does not acknowledge my teaching experience outside of the sector. So I get paid as an entry-level educator when I lecture at a college! It makes no sense to me – all my experience contributes to the quality of my performance in the workplace. In fact, having worked in so many contexts – primary school, high school and the TEFL industry, not to mention the different roles I’ve played in those contexts – makes me a more well-rounded educator than someone who has only ever taught at a college. But this is the system. One which needs to be revised.

Having said as much, the decision I had to make, related to the coming week (college due date for applications is in 6 days’ time), was relatively easy, because I need a job! I will apply for the three English posts I’ve seen advertised at the college I worked at before. One of them particularly interests me, because it entails diagnosing students’ language problems, then designing and teaching a tailor-made programme aimed at addressing those problems. The concept arose after lecturers had identified that, across the board, the students’ level of English was extremely poor and that some kind of intervention was needed; it is believed that this would impact on, and improve, their overall academic performance.  

At the moment, there are three college posts I know about and two high school posts, ironically both at single-sex (girls’) schools. Why do I say ironically? I don’t believe that single-sex education has any relevance in today’s world. Especially in a society like ours, so much needs to be done to level the inequalities between the genders and to educate people about gender-appropriate behaviour. During apartheid, we rejected the notion that separate could ever mean equal, and I have the same attitude towards gender separation. Why separate learners while they’re being educated? The argument is that, if you remove the other gender, you remove the distraction, and the education process can take place more successfully. Well, we live in a world with two genders, and education is supposed to prepare you for the real world. Anyone who thinks it’s more important to leave high school with high grades and a skewed impression of the world (after years of being deprived of normal, everyday interaction with the other gender) needs to wake up – this is the 21^st century, we live in a democracy where gender issues are high on the agenda and our young people need to be educated in an environment that prepares them to take their place in society.

I’ve seen it in so many people I know who attended single-sex schools – there’s an unrealistic, romanticised element to the way they interact with the opposite sex. Besides, single-sex education was conceptualised in an era where it was accepted that women were not as intelligent as men, and that boys and girls needed to be educated separately, as they were destined to fulfil very different roles in society. It is as offensive a concept as Hendrik Verwoerd’s (the father of apartheid) proclaiming that Blacks did not need to learn Mathematics, as they were only destined to become manual labourers. Many of the education-related problems we have in our township schools today are linked to the inferior education most of our black teachers received.

Separate is not equal –it never has been, and never will be. Boys and girls need to be educated together. They need to learn, from as early an age as possible, how to share the world with each other.

So…..maybe I don’t have a dilemma after all! The fact that single-sex institutions are usually faith-based adds another layer to this matter. Do schools have a right to question your religious affiliation in a job interview? I love the way the advertisements are worded: it’s always something like, “Strict compliance with the Catholic ethos would be expected from the incumbent.” I’d stick out like a sore thumb. Haha! And what would I say to the girls about contraception, were the topic to come up? Hmmmm…...!

This decision is a very personal one, and has to be made for all the reasons that inform my life and my circumstances. I need to believe in what I’m doing for a living - the specifics have to align with my world view and value system. I want a job that offers me security (right now, merely being employed does that), a level of convenience (I don’t want to spend two hours in peak-hour traffic twice a day) and a salary that enables me to look after my family properly. I’ve been a single parent for twelve years, and have had to run a household on just one salary – a VERY different reality to a two-income family. Oh, the list of criteria for my dream job is long, but right now I’m not even thinking ‘dream’ job – just JOB. Maybe I’ve lowered my sights, but you try being unemployed and then tell me it doesn’t seriously dent your expectations in some way.

On the topic of dreams, however (she added, irrepressibly): there’s one school in the southern suburbs that I’d love to teach at – Claremont High. It opened last year, so the newness attracts me. What also fascinates me about it is that Westerford High, one of the best-run public schools in the country, was approached by the WCED to set up the systems at the school. I like the fact that there wouldn’t be people on the staff who’ve been there for thirty years. It’s quite something being the new teacher, but dealing with certain staff dynamics is something I wouldn’t mind skipping altogether. My children attend Westerford, which is about three kilometres from Claremont High, so the logistics would be a breeze. I look at it this way: there’s so much in life that’s inherently stressful, that anytime I’m faced with a decision, I consciously factor in the avoidance of additional stress.

I often find that writing as I do – basically, rambling on – helps me sort out the clutter in my head. Well, it’s happened again.

It’s time to be proactive.

Repeat after me:

I create karma by the choices I make.

I create karma by the choices I make.

I create KARMA

by the CHOICES

I make.   

You never know....

Written 18 August 2012

Just when I think I’ve just come through the most bizarre time of my life, I seem to be faced with even more insane circumstances. Without going into too much detail, I have to say I’ve been confronted with one hectic scenario after the other, as life hurls a volley of shots at me that nothing could’ve prepared me for.

Today somebody put it into a universal, metaphysical context, saying that 2012 was in fact the end of an era, and that with such a time comes immense change. Many people I know have been saying that 2012 has also been a terrible year for them, so it seems there’s indeed truth to the universality of the unsettled nature of things.

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It’s a Saturday and I’m sitting in my car, outside my children’s school, while they do whatever they’ve come to do. Decided it was a waste of time and petrol to drive home, as they’d just be busy for an hour. On the way home, I have to drop one of them somewhere. Once home, I’ll teach two guitar lessons, then take the other one somewhere else and pick up the first one. I’d planned to use the sunny weather today to do much-needed laundry, after all the icy, stormy weather, but it was not to be. Let’s just say “external factors” mitigated against me, and I couldn’t use my yard. No rain forecast for tomorrow, so I’ll get up tomorrow with the same plan and hope for a more friendly outcome.

In too many areas of my life, I feel the walls closing in on me, as I struggle to be who I am and to live my truth. In two weeks’ time, if all goes well, I’ll earn my first salary in five months, which will take care of one huge, lingering, festering problem. The job I’m in is a temporary one, and one to which I’m committed to giving my best, despite immense challenges.

I really do look forward to 2013, as I anticipate it being the complete opposite of 2012, with loads of opportunities and things that work out right, without all the difficulties this year’s had.

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Listening to one of Amy Winehouse’s albums. She had an old soul, that one, organically connected to music from an era long gone. Everytime I remember that she’s dead, I feel sad. I feel sad that the world won’t have the gift of her voice on any new albums or in live shows. But most of all, I feel sad because I’ve heard her lyrics and seen some documentary footage of her life, and I think she was a woman, like so many others, who made choices that brought her immense pain. Some of those choices resulted in her death at age 27. So sad and so avoidable.

A beautiful friend gave me an interesting book today: “How To Publish Your Own e-Book”. It was a strange feeling, because my life’s changed completely since I started this teaching post, and I have so much school-related reading to do, that I can’t read anything else for a while. Also, because my days are so full and tiring, I don’t really have much time for my artistic life. You can imagine how frustrating that is, especially as I was hoping to put the finishing touches to my recording by the end of August. That’s definitely not going to happen, as I’m taking a lot of strain in this job, and I’m constantly hoarse.

I woke up this morning, thinking of different ways to survive the next few months. I find myself teaching in an environment that requires me to be a very different person to who I am, and the biggest challenge I’m faced with is finding creative ways to lessen the gap between the two extremes. I love teaching, and I particularly love teaching English - especially literature - but I find myself in the strangest of situations, teaching children who seem to resist being taught! It’s the craziest thing ever! You can waste a third to half of every period dealing with unruly behaviour that prevents you from teaching what you’ve come prepared to teach. Absolutely amazing!

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a few things that will get me through this contract: the fact that I now have a job, after four months of being unemployed, the fact that it’s actually a well-run school with good teachers and well-thought-out systems, the fact that earning a salary enables me to take better care of my children and, lastly, the possibility that I could make a difference to the life of even one of the children I teach, and, in so doing, set him/her on a journey towards authenticity and fulfillment.

You never know…..

The Rabbit Hole

Written 11 August 2012

Yesterday I picked up a DVD someone gave me about 7 years ago, and started watching it again. It’s called “What the bleep?”, also known as “Down the Rabbit Hole”. Like my two favourite books (“Women Who Run With the Wolves” and “The Art of Possibility”), this DVD is something I’ll never get tired of. It’s what could be called a documentary, I suppose, although it’s far more than that – I just don’t have the right term for it, right now. All I know is, it touches my soul every time I watch it. It affects me, moves me, disturbs and challenges me. It makes me think deeply about my choices, past, present and future.

“What the bleep?” explores the field of quantum physics and basically asserts, amongst other things, that there’s a myriad of possibilities for each of us, yet we somehow choose to do the same things in the same ways over and over again, opting for the safe, known choices. It challenges us to dare to explore other possibilities, to connect with the power inside of us and to fully exploit the fact that what’s inside of us is capable of determining what’s outside of us. We’re raised to react to external stimuli and to suppress strong tendencies, urges, drives from within; this group of theorists asserts that inner power is even more powerful than what we’re confronted with in the external world. This topic, articulated both scientifically and poetically by the different contributors, fascinates me – I love listening to the scientists talk about it and seeing the kinds of experiments they’ve done to prove their theories.

I’ve come to appreciate that life/the universe seems to keep bringing me the same message, over and over again. It’s been this way for many, many years: live YOUR truth. I have gone through successive relationships and jobs, getting it right for a while, but then missing the point – knowing the theory, but not internalizing it to the extent where I can honestly say I’m a Trudy-driven being, making my way through life fully living MY truth.

Let’s take the job scene, for example: in 1982, I left college as a qualified teacher, having completed a three-year diploma course, specializing in Junior Primary (now known as Foundation Phase). I applied to four schools, was accepted by one, and in January 1983, started teaching at a small, state-aided church school in the southern suburbs of Cape Town. I taught in the same classroom for the entire 14 years that I was there, and left the school when the government offered Voluntary Severance Packages to teachers, in some hare-brained scheme to reduce the number of teachers by 6000. Even though I regarded the government’s scheme as insane, I had many personal reasons for leaving. I had started studying part-time at UWC in my second year of teaching, and by the end of 1993, had completed my English Honours degree. That, as well as factors at the school and in my personal life, had made me restless, hungry for a new beginning.

In hindsight, I can see that that was actually the beginning of an extremely significant shift for me. I had, in fact, reached saturation point with my first career choice. I definitely did not want to teach little children anymore – I’d wanted to do so since I was a child, and after 14 years of it, knew that that was the end of that chapter. In the first three years after taking the package, I studied some computer courses, got a Public Relations Certificate, had my second child, and then did a short course of study which took me into my next line of work, teaching English as a foreign language. I started in that industry (EFL) in 1999 and worked continuously until early 2006.

Then, after having to close my own language school, I went back on my promise to myself and accepted a teaching contract at a high school fraught with problems. I stayed there for 18 months. Some of the things I experienced there, a decade after leaving the government school system, shook me to my core, and I realized how much I had changed. I also realised that, when you’ve been working in the private sector, especially at management level, you think and operate very differently to people who’ve only ever worked in the government school system. I had to do a lot of soul searching and what I’d call behaviour-and-demeanour modification, to survive. In the last term of my contract, I was offered a position as assistant manager of an established EFL school, and I jumped at the opportunity to return to the industry I’d grown to love. What I learnt, when I was retrenched from that position, almost three years later, was that a ‘permanent’ job can be here today and gone tomorrow. You have to appreciate what you have when you have it, and celebrate life’s blessings when you have them; take nothing for granted.

My tumultuous journey since my retrenchment has brought me repeatedly to a set of truths about myself. I’ve also come to understand that knowing your truth and living your truth are two very different things. I can say with all honesty that I know my truth. Am I living it, though? That’s another story altogether.

One of the fascinating dynamics about us all is that we have these different voices inside our heads, telling us all kinds of things. Whose voice we choose to listen to is what ends up directing our paths. For too many of us, the voice we listen to is not our own, but rather a powerful voice, usually an authority figure from our childhood, that tells us who we are and what we should do….. from that person’s perspective. The truth is that, for people who know they’ve changed since that initial career choice, that is no longer the voice you should be listening to.

One often hears this advice given to people who are striving to realize some dream or other: “Surround yourself with people who believe in, and support, you and your dream”. It’s a completely insane, out-of-body kind of feeling to know, with every fibre of your being, who you are and what your heart desires, and then to be told by people that you’re actually someone they knew thirty years ago, someone you know you stopped being long, long ago.

It’s also interesting how families often make no room for this kind of change, this career shift phenomenon that is experienced by millions of people all over the world; any little thing can be used to justify their theory of what’s right for you. Be perceived as having failed at your new venture, and that’s all the fuel they need to say, “You should’ve stuck to…! Why don’t you just find a nice … job?”

In less than a month I turn 51. There are some voices I need to shut out of my head, once and for all, especially on certain topics. It’s about time! I need to listen to my own voice more, follow my own path, my own truth. Because only I know what makes my heart sing. I know what makes my spirit soar, and I know what puts a smile on my face that just won’t go away. I know. I’ve always known. Ever since I was a child.

So, call me idealistic, unrealistic, blah blah blah – I still know who I am. I will go as far down the rabbit hole as my instincts tell me to.

How far are you prepared to go?

National Women's Day (South Africa) & Dr Dawn Garisch

Written 09 August 2012

Today we commemorated the day in 1956, when thousands of South African women marched in protest against the unjust system of government at the time, specifically against the Pass Laws. Funny how it’s become a day when different groups organize pamper parties, etc. for women. I suppose, because it’s a public holiday and the focus is on women, it’s become open to interpretation. So what did I do, besides the usual domestic and family stuff? I was invited to join a good friend and some of her friends at a women’s breakfast in aid of St Luke’s Hospice, a very worthy cause.

For me, it was a hugely significant morning. The guest speaker was Dr Dawn Garisch, a medical doctor who’s also a writer. I was intrigued by the way she introduced herself as “a writer who does some doctoring” – her point being that you can choose how you want to describe or define yourself. This, of course, is something I feel passionate about.

Dawn Garisch is someone who played an important role in my life, six years ago. I called a MediCross centre, asked for an appointment, and she was the doctor assigned to me. I thought I had a fish bone stuck in my throat, but she couldn’t find anything there. She did, however, give me a thorough examination and found that I had some other problem, which necessitated surgery. It was a major turning point in my life, and I have her to thank for it. Her thoroughness resulted in timeous intervention, which saved me from further complications. I will always be grateful for how she conducted herself that day, both during the examination as well as when she counseled me about the surgery.

A few things about today’s gathering are on my mind. Firstly, it was really nice to be part of a huge group of women, coming together for such a worthy cause, relaxing and being educated at the same time. St Luke’s Hospice is an incredible organisation, with volunteers who do the most courageous and selfless things to help out in practical ways or raise funds. I love being around my friend who’d invited me – we go back many years – and I’m starting to get to know her friends, all very interesting women. Today I met someone I hadn’t met before, and it was one of those occasions where, a few minutes into our conversation, we’d made a strong connection. I look forward to exploring that friendship, as we have so much in common. Women need to support each other. It’s very important.

Listening to Dawn Garisch was very special to me; after the event, I sought her out and thanked her for her intervention in my life 6 years ago. I’m becoming increasingly aware that good energy finds its way back into our lives, either through the same people who brought it initially, or through new people who come into our lives. Today, I felt the wonderful energy of so many people I interacted with.

But there was one kind of energy I experienced today that reminded me that there’ll always be people who miss the plot and who are so constricted by the fetters of institutionalized religion, that they fail to accept anything in a form other than the neatly-wrapped package to which they’re accustomed. Somewhere in her presentation, Dr Garisch had alluded to the Theory of Evolution, and in the Q&A session, some simpleton got up and challenged her about her “belief” in the theory, going on a rant about being a born-again Christian. She kept asking questions, seemingly trying to catch the speaker out, or trap her into confessing that she didn’t believe in God. Said born-again didn’t understand that Q&A time was for everyone, and not just her, to have an opportunity to ask questions. She polluted the room with her toxic smugness and effectively silenced everyone else, ruining what had been a nurturing atmosphere, filled with mutual respect and appreciation of the work being done by St Luke’s Hospice and doctors like Dawn Garisch.
I’m sure she didn’t buy any of Dawn’s books that were on sale.

And I’m equally sure that, as she drove home, she thanked God that she had worn that particular designer outfit, and also expressed her relief that she wasn’t as ignorant as some people.

And life goes on – and on and on.

Early August & Health Scare

Written 03 August 2012

This is nice! Just after 10:30 on a Friday night and I’m in bed! WHAT?! I’ve been itching to write for days, but have just been way too busy.

First of all, I can’t believe it’s AUGUST! I feel like my year’s hardly started! I can see by the trees that spring’s on its way, but the air is still ice cold. We’ve had a few nice days, recently, but now that it’s the weekend, we’re looking at some rain again.

This past week has been one of a kind: I went for two job interviews on Monday, was accepted for one of the posts on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, my first day in the new job, was accepted for the other one. The crazy thing is that I turned down the second one, even though it was a permanent job, and decided to stay in the temp job I had just committed myself to. The main reason I didn’t take the permanent job was that agreeing to take on the logistics of getting to the place was like begging the universe to complicate my life immensely.

In fact, I’d decided, once I’d given it some thought, that it was actually perfect for me to take the 4-month post, enjoy the experience as much as I could, and then apply for something as from January 2013. I have a feeling that next year’s going to see my energy bounce back and that this new wave I’m feeling now will continue to swell and grow.

All I know is that, with every decision I make, these days, I learn to know myself better. I’m still making mistakes, still unsure of so many things, probably more in the red than I’ve ever been, and yet…. I think the wheel has indeed begun to turn. The challenge for me is to continue to live my truth, walk the talk, strive to maintain balance, read the signs when I lose the balance, and know how to effectively restore it.

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Oh, my! How strange that those would be my thoughts at bedtime, when a few hours later I’d get a huge scare about my health and well-being.

It’s just after 06:30, the next morning. This morning at 00:45, I was awoken by my mom’s coughing (she’s here for an overnight visit), and as soon as I woke up, I realised something was wrong with me – not just a sore throat or a headache, but a set of symptoms that had me very worried. My head felt thick and woozy, like I couldn’t keep my balance. My chest was tight, my arms felt heavy and I was experiencing tingling in my arms and hands, as well as my feet. I got up, gave my mom cough syrup and got back into bed. I lay there for a while, hoping I’d start to feel ok, but no matter how I lay, I just felt worse and worse. Started imagining all kinds of things, so I decided I needed to get to a doctor. I was so dizzy, I knew I shouldn’t get behind the wheel. I drafted an sms to my neighbour, but didn’t send it for about 45 minutes, hoping that the feeling would go away and I wouldn’t have to bother anyone. My head had begun to throb and I was a bit nauseous.

Eventually, convinced I was heading for a heart attack, I got up, sent the sms and went to tell my mom what was happening. My neighbour phoned back and within minutes was driving me to the nearest hospital.

Got to the hospital, they asked a lot of questions, did an ECG and various blood tests, checked my BP, let me sleep for a while and later did another ECG and another set of BP checks. After all of that, I’d started to feel ok again and the doc said he could find nothing wrong with me, there was no medication he could give me, and that I should just “take it easy for a few days”. My goodness – if only it were that simple. But I’ll try, for sure. Instead of doing the whole mountain of laundry, I’ll select the urgent items.

What I do know is that I have never been as stressed as I have in the past four months, and tonight’s experience was a wake-up call to me. Stress always ends up showing through physical symptoms. I need to reverse that and make sure the happiness I’ll be generating will spread to my cells and infuse my entire body with peace and well-being.

Mommy Bloggers

Written 02 July 2012

Another busy day, but unlike any other day in many respects. My first thoughts, on waking, were of my mom, and I think that’s going to be with me for a while. Day 1 with mom living a few suburbs away. Very different energy without her close by. So it was a new day, a new month and a whole new phase for us all. Filled my car’s boot and backseat with recycling and other things, and took a drive to the dump. Always feels good to do that kind of thing, especially when it means I’m creating space at home.

So, as I promised myself, I sorted out the lounge to the point where I can comfortably have my lessons there tomorrow. My students will be surprised to see the piano! As a child, I got used to having a piano around, and I also had one in the house when I was married, and now I realise how having a piano in the house makes it feel “right”, somehow – like a home.

Just watched the movie, “Legends of the Fall”, with Brad Pitt and Anthony Hopkins. I have seen it probably eight times by now, and I never tire of it; it’s a strong story, with strong actors, and the setting is spectacular. I find the characters convincing and the many twists and turns in the story dramatic, but highly credible, even true to life.

I cut my left hand on a piece of broken glass, today, and this evening, when I picked up my guitar to play, I realised the cut was on a part of my hand that made contact with the guitar. Ouch! Also, I’ll have to get myself some rubber gloves for the laundry. I’m normally very careful with my hands, but today this pointed piece of broken glass took me by surprise, piercing my skin before I’d seen it.

Almost 2a.m. Can’t sleep. I should try winding down now. Early rise tomorrow, for English tutoring session.

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I recently heard the term, “mommy bloggers”, and I wondered if I fell into that category. What is a mommy blogger? And why does it sound so deprecating? Are mommy bloggers less “legit”?!

All of a sudden, I’m extremely tired. Yawwwwwn!

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Written 01 July 2012

Seems like Sunday morning, once again, is the best time for me to blog.

Today I’m feeling ALL the effects of my mother’s move from the granny flat on our premises. I’ve spent the past two days packing up my mother’s belongings and cleaning the flatlet, as well as handling the logistics of the three different people who physically moved the furniture: my brother- in-law moved some of the things, a moving company moved others (into my house) and an old age home fetched the balance, which my mom donated.

Today, my body’s sore (in places I didn’t even know I had muscles) from the physicality of the past two days, and my sinuses are crazy from the dust. The next phase of the move started straight after my mom left with my sis and her husband, as my children and I moved furniture and boxes around in our lounge, to get it to its new configuration. I wish I could take the next week to sort that out, but I teach guitar lessons there, so I have to make it as organised as I can by the time I go to bed tonight!

Other, less visible, effects are, of course, the huge emotional aspects of this kind of change. My mom’s been here for 5 years, and she’s been part of our household, a constant in my life. The difference between how she was when she moved in (strong, confident, sassy, independent, bright, cheerful, in control, funny) and how she is now (timid, withdrawn, over-apologetic, fearful, frustrated by her memory-related confusion), is striking. I’ve come face to face with issues about life and ageing that I’d never seen from close-up before. It changes you, makes you more compassionate, more appreciative of the faculties you still have. As my relationship with her assumes its new context, I have an ongoing responsibility to be loving and consistent, considerate and patient. As I buzz through my own activities, stressing my way from day to day, it’s not always easy to shift gears, slow down and be totally in the moment. But it’s not impossible.

I went into my kitchen to make a cup of tea, now, but there are so many boxes all over, I changed my mind! Today I have to make a few trips to the dump, to take away recycling and other stuff. It will clear floor space that’s now too cluttered for normal life to take place, and it will help me recreate a semblance of order. I have to add, though: anyone who’s ever been into my home, knows that calling it “order” is a real stretch of the imagination! But I think my mom’s move has taught me quite a few lessons about how I’ve been living and how I’d prefer to live, from now on.

I’ve always accepted (on some level) that physical clutter was a reflection of emotional/psychological issues, and this experience – my mom’s move – has made me realise not only how true this is, but also how labour-intensive it is to undo! The process of changing all of this has most definitely begun, for us as a little family. My children needed to reconfigure their bedrooms, as they both acquired furniture from my mom. In the process, they got rid of other items and did major uncluttering of their space. My son emptied a huge trunk of toys that had been in his room since we moved here, 15 years ago. Believe me, that’s been on his “To Do” list for at least 5 years! I suppose children take their cues from the adults around them. If your parent is a hoarder, you unconsciously emulate that. It was interesting to watch them, over the past two days, as they planned the new layouts of their rooms and then brought their ideas into reality. Very cool. I’m so proud of those two. This is the first time I’ve experienced this kind of thing with them being old enough to do their own planning and executing, so it was fascinating to watch them at work. I look forward to the day that financial constraints don’t limit us every step of the way, and that we can exercise our creativity with more fun, more options.

And so I proceed into the new day. Another rainy day, I might add. Good for the garden and typical of this time of the year for us (July’s our rainiest month), but not what I need as I consider the next mountain of family laundry waiting - just for me. Have I mentioned that I hate housework, especially laundry? You know what I hate the most about washing by hand? Washing socks! My children (and all their friends) have a habit of walking around in their socks, without shoes – so you can imagine what the socks look like afterwards! I keep threatening to make them wash their own socks, but I never act on it. Like any normal mother, my fervent prayer is simply this: that they’ll one day have their own children who do the same to them. :-)

My life feels both crazier than ever and like it’s about to start getting better – hard to explain. I have some health issues to check out at the doctor – seems like prolonged stress is taking its toll. At the same time – isn’t this a typical Trudy story - I have a recording studio appointment for next week, when I’ll record four of my own songs! A dream come true, made possible only through the generosity of a benefactor, a friend who believes in me. How cool is that?!

As I sit in bed now, sinuses amok, eyes itching, body aching and entire being flooded with the emotions of the family changes, the idea of even BEING in a studio, let alone RECORDING my work with one of my favourite musicians and one of the best sound guys in our country seems unreal. And yet, as I continue to sort out my house over the next week (let’s be honest, it will take at least that long!), I’ll also have to factor in daily practice sessions, as I prepare to record.

So…..as usual…..never a dull moment…..life goes on…..until the next instalment. :-)

Entropy

Written 24 June 2012


Slouching in bed. Sunday morning. Decided to be indulgent and just stay under the covers for a few hours. Why the hell not? Every day I buzz around like a maniac, trying to live 5 lives in one, and wearing myself out in the process. Why? If I stay in bed till midday today, then get up and work till my children return this evening, I’ll still finish all the important things and I’ll have had some relaxing Me Time. So, yup – that’s the plan. This is one of the nice parts of being single. :-)

Back in bed, a few minutes later, this time with a cup of coffee and two slices of toast. My best friend gave me two avos, bordering on over-ripeness, perfect for toast. Some salt, black pepper, a few drops of fresh lemon and, Voila! .... a veritable feast! Mmmm….

I’ve set my alarm for midday; I’m enjoying myself so much, I could easily stay here and write/snooze/read all day. In fact, I look forward to doing exactly that, one day. Soon.

I write signs with the day and date for my mom, every day. She’s experiencing memory loss, and it includes disorientation regarding time (day, date and clock time). If I only get up at midday, she’ll be confused till I put the signs up. Actually, I’m sure she could figure out from yesterday’s signs what today is. She’s probably sleeping till noon, anyway.

Brrrr, it’s COLD!!!!! Winter’s here, Cape Town!!!

My mom moves to my sister’s house, in a week’s time. For at least 15 years, my mom has lived independently. In fact, it’s been much longer than 15: she owned her own home in Bloemfontein, for about 3 years, in the late 1980’s. I don’t know why, but I never visited her in Bloem. She had a whole life there: a job with the Performing Arts Council (singing opera), a community of colleagues and friends, and her own home. If I’m not mistaken, that was the only time she’d ever lived in her own home. My niece, Kim, went up by plane (unaccompanied, at about age 6), and spent some time with her during one school holiday.

So, in 6 days’ time, life changes for us all. My mom’s been living here for 5 years, and it’s been a time of my life unlike any other. Living in close proximity to one’s parent, in one’s adult life, requires diplomacy and, most importantly, love. Of course, the personalities of the people involved play a big role. The main things are respect and honest (but tactful) communication. My tact tends to fly out by the window when I feel disrespected, but even that can be tempered with mentally counting to ten, or – as my late father used to do – making the sign of the cross! :-)

I woke up this morning with my usual thoughts – remembering my dreams, then focusing on the day and its demands. With my mom’s memory loss as a daily reality, I’ve been contemplating the role of memory in our everyday lives, and I can only imagine how frustrating it must be for her, not being able to rely on her memory to recall what she did the previous day, what she’s eaten and – giving rise to all kinds of potential problems – whether she’s eaten/showered, etc. At this stage of her life, she needs to be in close proximity to caring people who will make sure she lives as stable a life as possible, with regular, healthy meals and everything else she needs. Most of my mom’s friends live in the broader area she’s moving back to, so they’re all excited. Also, she’ll be going back to the church she belonged to.

The challenge for me will be to make sure my kids and I see her regularly and that she’s still very involved in our lives. My dad spent his last years in an old aged home, and I know how easy it is to let too much time elapse between visits. Anyway, there’s no comparing my relationship with my mom with the one I had with my dad; she’s been there for me every step of the way, and he was an absent father, whom I never saw for up to a year at a time. You can NEVER make up for that. Be a parent when your children need you, and you establish that beautiful relationship for life. Be absent when they need you, and you establish resentment and issues of abandonment that extend into their adult lives.

Knowing a bit about my parents’ story, though, I honestly don’t think he was entirely to blame, and I’m sure he loved and missed us. Too many women, when they divorce, allow their own issues with their husbands to dictate the kind of access they have to the children, when, in fact, they’re two completely separate matters. There’s also a historical context, as divorce regulations have changed a lot over the years. Children have a right to learn to know and love their father, no matter what transpired between the parents. They have a right to a father in their lives and a right to love him because he’s a good father and fundamentally a good person. His failed relationship with their mother is just that. (Obviously in cases of abuse, this doesn’t apply – you wouldn’t place your children in the hands of a known abuser.)

But the other thought I had, on waking this morning, was what I actually wanted to write about. As my thoughts drifted from one thing to the next, I gained an awareness that was most liberating, and here it is: I have been experiencing profound feelings of failure in two areas of my life, namely, relationships and employment, not without reason – or so I kept telling myself. This morning, it occurred to me just how ridiculous it was to feel that way. It also occurred to me that the only reason I felt that way was that I’d been comparing myself to others. If that’s the grid according to which I rate myself, then I should, by implication, be feeling like a failure in SOOOOO many other parts of my life – my fitness, my figure, my hair, my personality, my clothes, my car (!), my rented-and-not-owned house…… etc. etc. etc. But I don’t. So why on earth do I allow certain forces in my life to make me feel like a failure in these two specific areas? I could dedicate a whole blog post – if not a whole blog - to this topic, but I’ll just write the thoughts as they come, because they’re brewing right now.

I think it’s got to do with two main things: definition and social acceptance. People define themselves largely by these two categories: relationship status and job. Along with the personal definition goes the social acceptance, or lack thereof. If, as in my case, these categories have undergone numerous changes over the years, it means that the way in which we (and everyone else) define ourselves has to have undergone numerous changes, too. And maybe it’s in the act of shifting the definition of who we are that we experience discomfort and distress, and that’s when the feelings of failure arise. But I have to keep bringing it back to the fact that it’s only because we evaluate ourselves comparatively that we define ourselves as failures. It’s like the concept of less and more – they exist only in relation to other entities. So, Person A is accepted socially as more successful than Person B because…….and here’s the crux……he/she’s had ONE relationship and ONE job for his/her entire adult life. Huh?!!!! And that’s why people like me feel like failures?! Hahahahahahaha!!!! It’s hilarious! Now – isn’t THAT a liberating perspective?!

On some level, I’ve known this for a long time, but TODAY I finally get it – I really and truly get it! And, from this moment on (a la Cole Porter), I’m going to live my life with more freedom than ever before, accepting my story as uniquely mine. If you define yourself as “ fine”, and you accept yourself as “ok” - with all the other amazing adjectives possible – then everyone around you will value you in the same way. If you’re apologizing your way through life, on the basis of your having had numerous relationships and jobs, then you’ve seriously missed the point, and the only failure in your life is your failure to value your life story for the richness it contains.


Back in bed with my next cup of winter warmth, this time green tea. Why not coffee again? Because I like experiencing different things – I get bored with repetition just for the sake of repetition. That’s who I am. And that’s fine. That’s ok. Other people’s life stories have evolved differently, and that’s also fine, also ok. It’s as simple as that. And the point I’m trying to make is not related to the idea that having one partner or job doesn’t necessarily make you a happier person – it’s not that at all. I’m happy for those people whose lives have taken a different route to mine, with more stability and material security. This is the point – accept YOUR life story, embrace it, own it, it’s yours, it’s you, it’s colourful, wacky, inconsistent….. it’s called living.

NEVER AGAIN will I compare myself negatively to those whose cables have never tangled; the principle of entropy states that everything in nature has a tendency towards disorder, chaos. I’m living my natural life - no apologies, no comparisons, just wonderful, absolute ownership of my story and full acceptance of myself, just as I am.

Watch me leap from these starting blocks!

Boxes in the shed

Written 01 June 2012

Even though I’ve had a physically exhausting day (doing family’s laundry by hand, plus clearing old boxes from the shed) and I know I’m really tired, I just can’t seem to fall asleep.

Today I decided to take a load of things to the dump. I do this regularly, but it’s usually stuff for recycling – paper, cans, bottles and plastic containers. Today, however, I started on the boxes of old, old stuff that had been cluttering up the shed for years. Yes, years! When my landlord decided to turn the double garage into a flatlet, I had to move all my boxes out and put them in the shed. That was about five to six years ago. Most of them I hadn’t touched since then.

Funny how, despite the fact that I hadn’t even thought about the contents of the boxes for years (probably much longer than six, because they’d been stored in the garage before), I couldn’t just throw them away – I HAD to look through each one before carting it off to its final destination, the local municipal dump. And what a pleasurable exercise it turned out to be! Sometimes it pays to go with your feelings, and not to over-think things. I discovered essays I’d written at university, as far back as the 1980’s (undergrad). Interesting. I was humbled to see that my marks weren’t always fabulous (funny how time had affected those memories! :-), but impressed that my writing had always been solid. Reading through my post-grad ones, I could see both my strengths and weaknesses as an English Honours student. Aware, for months, of a growing desire to study further (Masters – why’s that term so patriarchal?), I’m even hungrier to tackle that next academic hurdle, stretch myself, bring my life experience into my analyses, learn as much as I can, and find ways to use what I learn to contribute to the development of our country’s youth and women.

Back to the contents of the boxes – I also found programmes of shows I’d been to: operas, musicals, ballets, concerts. Amongst them was the programme of my mom’s 1979 recital at Artscape – then called the Nico Malan Opera House – a groundbreaking (and, admittedly, controversial) performance as the first black woman to do so. (Controversial because, at that time in our country’s history, admission of “Non-white” people to certain venues was made possible by a permit, since the original vision had been to provide the facilities to “Whites” only.) Accompanied by maestro Gordon Jephtas (pianist, conductor, repetiteur, vocal coach), she boldly concluded her show with “We Shall Overcome”. Go, mom!

I came face-to-face with how much of a hoarder I am, when I found my lecture notes and other paraphernalia of my college years, 1980 to 1982, including a booklet containing all the details of the nationwide tour we did! Amazing how much technology has changed since then.


It’s the next day, and I’ve actually typed the last three paragraphs this morning! Sitting at the kitchen table, my favourite writing spot, with my kids joining me after waking up, my daughter full of stories of their recent school camp (Diversity Awareness programme – fascinating and very necessary at their stage of development) and my son explaining in great detail the story he’s writing: the characters, the plot, the setting, the timeline…..! Intense!

And so, with my next blog post already in my head and the title already typed, I sadly have to close the laptop and get on with the daily stuff that moms do. It’s an overcast day, and all I honestly feel like doing is writing and playing my guitar.

And life goes on.

Sir Whathisname

Written 04 June 2012

Sipping green tea, watching - of all things – the Diamond Jubilee Concert in London. Tom Jones singing Delilah. I must say, hats off to the man for looking so dashing with his naturally grey hair and for his still-amazing voice. Unlike poor Sir Cliff, who appeared in his pink suit, his body doing something that vaguely resembled moves he used to make sixty years ago. He was introduced as someone who’d had hit songs in every one of the decades of the queen’s reign, so that would make him round about her age, right? Round 80?

Oh yeah – Robbie Williams singing Mac the Knife! With all the right attitude, pizazz, great energy, just the right amount of cheekiness, irreverence. Changed some words to include names of some of the royals.

Interesting line-up, some really funny presenters. Cute song by Andrew Lloyd Webber, “Sing”, being sung by about 200 voices from “the Commonwealth” on stage, with visuals of the queen’s life in the background.

Shirley Bassey – wonder if she’ll sing in tune tonight. Looks like a dream, as the light starts to fade in London. Ok, she sounds strong. Diamonds are forever. Ooh, what a line: “Unlike men, diamonds linger.” :-)

*************************************************************************************Woke up at 5 this morning, without an alarm. Usually I lie for a few minutes, drifting out of my dream world and easing into the new day, but today as soon as I awoke, I realised I had a problem with my back – some of my muscles had seized up and I could hardly move. Not nice. I tried all kinds of ways to slide myself off the bed, and eventually got it right. Took a mild painkiller, heated one of those beanbags and got back into bed, applying the heat to the painful part. Fell asleep again and woke up about 3 hours later, feeling much better.

Oh, dear, looks like the older royals are not having a good time. Wonder if the queen will go home early. Shame, she’s 86!

Ooh, cool song, “Somewhere”, being sung by Ian Fleming’s daughter, Renee, and a baritone, Alfie Bow(?). From a balcony. Logistical nightmare, I’d imagine. Strong voices – operatic.

This time I got up without having to slide off the bed and had breakfast, after which I took a strong anti-inflammatory painkiller, which sorted out the back pain, but gave me a huge headache.

Sir Elton John, resplendent in his pink suit and matching sunglasses, belting it out, playing the piano like the timeless genius he is, singing “I’m Still Standing”. Oh, sweet, he spoke to the queen, and now he’s singing “Your Song”. I’ve always loved this song. Reminds me of my college friend, Alfreda. Oh my goodness, he’s doing “Crocodile Rock”! Go, Elton! And letting the audience of 70 000 sing the la la la part. And even the royals are rocking. Ok, Harry and Will are rocking, not their gran. She must be quite preoccupied – her husband’s in hospital again. He must be in his 90s.

I often wonder how her son, Charles, feels - waiting in the wings his entire life.

Stevie Wonder!!!!!!!! Yes!!!

A band playing on the roof of Buckingham Palace – Madness. That’s the band’s name. “Our house, in the middle of our street” – when last have I heard that song? Very clever technical stuff projected against the palace façade. “It Must Be Love” – aaah! Bizarrely-clad saxophonist. Cool!

Back to my sore back – at first I thought it was from clearing out heavy boxes from the shed on Saturday, but I think it’s more likely from carting the television set from the lounge to one of the bedrooms. For you to understand how that could’ve caused me to pull a couple of back muscles, I have to tell you that my tv set is really old and big – in fact, it’s about the same size as my second car, a Morris 1100.

I’m tired. Watched the whole concert, and now I need to heat the beanbag and get it up against the sore part of my back – in bed.

Today was a good day; I acquired a new guitar student and a possible English teaching opportunity. I made some significant strides in a few other aspects of my life.

Off to bed. To the mysterious and delicious world of sleep and dreams.

One Problem

Written 02 June 2012

There was a time in my life when I was deprived of my political freedom, when I couldn’t vote in the country of my birth. That changed in 1994, when South Africa became a constitutional democracy. Yes, we have a long way to go before we can call ourselves a successful democracy, but political freedom we generally have. That is not my problem.

There were times in my life when I was unhappy in my job, where I hated going to work, but did so just to earn my salary and keep myself afloat in this crazy, expensive world. There were times when the stress of my job felt overwhelming and I wondered how I’d survive yet another day, week or month of it without going insane. At this stage of my life, that is not my problem.

I have had family problems, at different times of my life, where I went for counseling week after week, trying to work out issues, trying to find common ground, trying to reach a compromise. My current problem does not lie in that arena.

I have also had friendship problems, where people I’ve trusted have disappointed me and left me feeling wounded, betrayed, and fearful of trusting again. These days I know how to read people better and to pace myself before trusting too much, so that’s not my problem either.

Of course I’ve had relationship problems, with each one starting out so beautifully, having really cool bits in the middle, but ending so badly. I’m amazed that I’ve not closed my mind and heart to the belief that happiness will come my way again. So, even though I’ve been single for many months, that’s no problem at all!

But I do have ONE BIG PROBLEM: MONEY! This is not about wanting expensive things and having to buy cheaper versions. No, this is about basic, day-to-day survival; about paying rent and buying pre-paid electricity, buying groceries and airtime, and all those other expenses that seem to crop up out of nowhere. The ramifications of not having enough money are far-reaching. I’ve had to give up so many things that were part of the way I lived my life, and yet life has had to go on. If I have to choose between multi-vitamins for myself and ingredients for a family meal, the vitamins don’t stand a chance: my children will always come first. I sometimes hear my friends talking about their new boots, clothes, jewelry, etc. and I feel so far removed from all of that. My issues lie a lot deeper. My children have outgrown most of last winter’s things, and I’m unable to buy them new things, things they badly need. That’s hard for me.

When things in the home break, I can’t fix them. It’s very frustrating, as it often has other implications, adding to my stress. My washing machine’s been broken for almost a year. In summer, that’s no problem, but in winter…. I spend hours and hours a week doing my family’s washing (everything, including bedding) by hand, in the bath. It’s time-consuming and very tiring. And I have to just fit it in, along with all my other chores and commitments. I managed to have the garden sorted out last week, but that was 8 months after the previous clean up!

Giving up gym, after months of trying to make the membership payments, but failing because other things took priority, was very hard for me. That’s something I’ll restore as soon as I’m on my feet. That and the internet at home – very important. .

I still write out my budget every month, even though my income from guitar lessons is about one third of what I need to get through the month without borrowing. I am sick of getting phone calls from companies I have monthly commitments to, having to explain that I’m unemployed and that I’ll pay a smaller amount in a few days – oy, it really leaves me feeling like a failure. I’ve been in this situation since October 2010, almost two years now. I know why some people decide they just can’t go on anymore. It eats away at you, like a cancer, you lose perspective, and you could so easily feel you don’t want to try anymore.


But me – I don’t know what it is, but I’ll NEVER give up. I know that life is about energy and faith and timing that often makes no sense, and I believe that there’s always an end to suffering, that the wheel has to turn, and that life has to get better and stay better. You just have to stubbornly believe and keep trying, keep adjusting your pitch, keep reinventing yourself, keep going, trying, believing, adjusting, reinventing….

So – before I turn off the light and invite beautiful dreams into my sleep world, I’ll put my heart’s desire out into the universe one more time: I want to spend my days doing what I love (empowering people through Music and English) and to earn a decent living from it, so that I may support my children and myself (like I did before) and live without this gnawing anxiety. If my job also enables me to make a contribution to the development of our country in some way, that would make me even happier.

Good night. May the new day bring new, income-generating opportunities.

***************************************************************************
Thoughts, a few weeks later:
I was raised in a family where the emphasis was on training/studying for a profession, getting a stable job with good benefits, and keeping that job for life. It was largely the fallout from the political system we were living under, where “Coloured” people’s options were limited, so becoming a nurse or a teacher was an aspiration of many, since it meant you’d have a government job, from which you’d retire with a decent pension, after about 40 years. We weren’t raised to be entrepreneurs, or to even think that it was possible (or acceptable) to be self-employed. South Africa in 2012 is a completely different world, with very different economic and employment imperatives. You have to think in a different way, and you have to believe that you can meet the new challenges, as tough as they are.
Many of the economic problems we’re dealing with are being experienced on a global level, and have been coming along for a few years. Greece’s current meltdown, with its imminent departure from the Eurozone, is just one blatant example of how huge the world’s economic problems are.
I am one person experiencing it in one family, in one house, in one suburb, in one city, in one country, on one continent. Multiply that by millions, and that’s our world in 2012.
I have options - many others don’t.

Egg-slicer Written 27 May 2012

Same goal – lights out by 23:30. It’s 22:45 now.

This is very unusual – I’m in bed for the night and it’s not yet 11pm! Which just goes to show, anything’s possible. You can teach an old dog new tricks.

One child fast asleep, one studying. My son helped my daughter draw up her study timetable, and she’s been sticking to it with a diligence I’ve never seen in her before. Good for her – might as well learn in your first year at high school that hard work pays off. Actually, she’s been showing a lot more responsibility in the past month, transforming her bedroom from chaos and clutter to a really neat, functional space, one she enjoys hanging out in. She has all kinds of ideas for redecorating, but that’s not something we can afford, right now. She’s actually interested in becoming an interior decorator. Nice change from what she wanted to be when she was much younger – first a bus driver and then an egg-slicer. Yes.

As my life continues, with its bizarre juxtapositioning of the ridiculous and the sublime, I can’t help but laugh at some of the situations I find myself in and the things I hear people say. Not a day goes by without my hearing someone say something as though it’s THE truth, when all it is, is that person’s perspective on something or other. Interesting how, when, and with what tone of voice people choose to express their insular opinions. Interesting how my life can be labelled “abnormal” because of the post-divorce living arrangements for the children, yet other people, no matter what they get up to, can be accepted as “normal”, just because they go to church regularly. It’s all quite arbitrary, isn’t it?

This weekend I sang at one of my dream venues, the Cape Town International Convention Centre – except not many people knew about it or even heard me. Funny! As usual, I learnt a lot. It was the annual Good Food and Wine Show, and I was part of the live entertainment for Pink Drive, a cancer activist group. They were going to open their truck, a mobile mammogram unit, to the public, and two of us were supposed to have performed, but because we ended up being indoors (weather!), we had to keep the sound smaller, so it was mainly me, singing jazz standards. The other musician was Elise “Black Athena” Fernandez, a hiphop artist and founder of Whiphop (Women in Hiphop). She did just a few songs and I accompanied her on guitar. What a ball of energy she is! I met her just a few weeks ago and took an instant liking to her – a real woman of substance. Looking forward to collaborating with her; even though we have very different styles, I think we might be able to come up with some really interesting songs.

Written 25 May 2012

I have a goal, tonight, to switch off my light by 23:30. It’s 23:10 now.

If someone were to ask me what my average day was like, I wouldn’t know what to say. I don’t have average days. Most days feel like a rollercoaster ride, sometimes making me heady with delight, sometimes spinning horribly out of control.

I also know that I’m affected by the weather. Right now, it’s very cold and I can hear the rain. When the wind blows at the same time, it’s an eerie sound, and I feel vulnerable and alone. I miss my children.

Today, like so many other days, found me so busy, that I was out from about 10:00 to 18:30! That’s a long time! I feel really bad, because my mom’s still living in the granny flat, and I have no choice but to leave her alone all that time. Hard to find the middle ground between what I have to do to find a job (sit at internet café, go to meetings, follow up on various leads) and what I have to do to meet my mom’s needs.

The good – no, great – news is that she’s actually a lot better. She seems to have regained her energy, doesn’t seem lethargic and drowsy anymore, and she’s resumed some of her domestic activities. My mom’s memory is definitely going, though, and it’s a multi-layered experience for everyone involved. There are times when she gets so frustrated at not remembering, at not being the fiercely independent woman she’s been for so long, that she becomes tearful. It’s a lot to deal with, for us all. My sister and I have discussed different options with my mom, and we’re helping her to simplify her life. Within the next 5 weeks, a big change will have happened for us all.

I pray to the universe for strength to spread my focus sensibly across the various areas needing my attention. I pray for peaceful transitions. I pray for a job, because I can’t keep living like this, constantly in survival mode. It’s stressful and draining. I pray for a job that uses my skills, knowledge and experience, and one that suits my quirky life and personality. I want a satisfying, well-paid, half-day job, so that I may continue doing what I love so much: teaching guitar lessons and performing.

23:23 – time to shut down the laptop and get that much-needed sleep.

“To sleep, perchance to dream.”

Written 20 May 2012

Aaah……this is nice.

Everytime I think I’m not one anymore, I realize I still am! Haha! What am I talking about? A hopeless romantic! I’m watching a romcom, an old movie I’ve seen before, Dancing at the Harvest Moon. As cheesy as it is, it’s exactly what I want to watch right now. It starts with a woman, an English Literature teacher, discovering that her husband of many years is having an affair. She dumps him and tries to go on with her life, but finds herself just going through the motions. A few months later, she takes a sabbatical and goes to a lakeside village where she spent some time as a teenager, a place where she fell in love for the first time. And there, in that quaint, picturesque little piece of heaven, she finds a project that’s close to her heart, one which energises and rejuvenates her. Oh, and of course she falls in love.

I started watching it, then had an ad-break shower, and now I’m in bed, watching from under the covers. Hah! Brought the tv into my bedroom as a treat. Kids away, have to pamper myself any way I can, to fill the void.

I went to a family gathering today, in celebration of my aunt’s 84th birthday. Good to spend time with my cousins again. Come to think of it, I’ve seen a lot of them in recent months. Nice. Connects me to my childhood. Came home to where my kids had been studying for exams, and found the house reeking of fire – my daughter had left microwave popcorn in for ten minutes instead of two. Fortunately, she hadn’t burnt the house down; it was just the packaging that had burnt. I sincerely hope this smell doesn’t linger for too long.

On the topic of fire: iBuyambo, a really interesting venue I’ve sung at a couple of three times, burnt down in the early hours of this morning. Damn! I don’t know the details, but I do know that no-one was killed and no-one was hurt. It seems the place is beyond repair; it must’ve been a combination of factors that caused it to burn so completely. Old building, etc. What a pity – it was becoming a performance and exhibition space that Capetonians were starting to know about and gravitate towards, for different styles of music on different nights and other things, as well: book launches, birthday parties, etc.

About a week or so before the fire, I went to a meeting there, and met two women, both musicians. The meeting was one to which a number of women musicians (mainly vocalists) had been invited. Despite the poor turnout, we went ahead anyway, and I’m glad I did. Learnt a lot and started a friendship I believe will grow. I choose to focus on the fact that it was fortuitous that we met when we did and not on the scary thought that, had the fire happened that night, ……!

I’m very sad for the owner of the place and his manager, because they put hours and hours into the place and it was really starting to take shape nicely, both as a physical space and a concept that was catching on. I hope that it won’t be too long before it starts up again in new premises. So much momentum had been built up.

‘Kiss today goodbye, the sweetness and the sorrow”

Monday 18 June 2012

Good morning, world!

Somehow, beneath the icy weather and the layers of clothing - as colourful as possible, to keep the creative juices flowing and not to blend in with the drabness that constantly threatens to engulf me - I have stirrings of hope, like the plant I named a few months ago which was a collection of dried-out sticks, but has since flourished and is a full, bright, shiny, green delight to the senses. Hope. What would we do without it?

In the face of recent new challenges - some so extreme, I'm staggered that I seem to lack the resources to deal with them on a daily basis - I'm fighting to keep my optimism going. Struggling to keep hanging on to that belief that's fuelled me for so long, that I WILL achieve my dream life, namely, doing what I love, every day of my life, and earning a DECENT living from it.

I'm thankful for my health, for my family and for my friends. Also for my landlord! I'm thankful for the opportunities that continue to present themselves and I'm thankful that, when I have the presence of mind to remember the simple golden rules and stick to them, I continue to sow good seeds that do indeed sprout and eventually blossom.

I am thankful for every new day, because I believe that the struggles I've endured since being retrenched in 2010 are about to come to an end. There's a limit to how much hardship any one person should have to endure.

And now, on to the rest of my day. I must be one of the luckiest people around to be earning the money I do from one of my passions: Music. Now to meet the challenges that come with growing my little music school from "micro" to the next stage.

Music and English on offer_31 May 2012

Hi, everyone!

I’m once again spreading the word about the Music and English services I offer. I’m based in the southern suburbs of Cape Town and would appreciate it if you’d forward this to your networks when you have a few spare minutes.

GUITAR LESSONS

My focus is on “social guitar playing as a fun, stress-relieving activity”, and I work with Beginners and “rusty Intermediates”. All the chords, strumming styles and picking techniques are practised in exercises, then applied to well-known songs. Most of my students have progressed to reading music and playing little instrumental pieces. I teach from my home in Heathfield, except when it’s a bigger group: I teach a church group at their hall. If you are thinking of learning to play the guitar, remember the keywords are patience and practice. Minimum age, 10 - but no maximum age! J

Lesson Rates:

Private: R80 (30 mins)

Private: R120 (1 hour)

Semi-private (2 students): R60 pp (45 mins)

Group (3 or 4 students): R60 pp (1 hour)

LIVE JAZZ FOR EVENTS (SOLO OR DUO)

An experienced performer, I am available for live gigs at events, as well as at restaurants, hotels, etc. In either solo or duo format, I do laid-back vocal-guitar music, ideal for dinners or other events where tasteful, unobtrusive, live music simply enhances the overall experience.

FUNDRAISING PROPOSAL

I have a cost-effective, collaborative fundraising proposal for clubs and organisations, which entails my providing live music at a reduced rate at your event. Please contact me (details below) for a copy of the letter. Winter’s a good time for bringing people together with good food and music, so why not turn it into a fundraiser? You could even host it at your home and keep the gathering cosy.

LOOKING FOR A VENUE FOR A CONCERT (MUSIC & POETRY)

It’s time for me to put on my next concert, where I’ll feature guest artists and perform my original songs, continuing my journey towards the release of my first album. (My demo can be heard on Soundcloud: http://snd.sc/f7WfNt, or type in my name.) If you can recommend a nice venue, or would like me to do a concert as a fundraiser, please contact me.

ENGLISH LANGUAGE SKILLS ON OFFER

With 25 years of teaching experience, I offer English tutoring to individuals or small groups, as well as English as a Foreign Language. I also do proofreading and editing, no matter how small the document.

Thank you for reading and forwarding this letter. Peace to you and your loved ones.

Trudy

Mobile: +27 83 491 3048 E-mail: guitartrudy@gmail.com