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!
Friday, 29 June 2012
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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”
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
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.
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.
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