Reflecting on the life of Nelson Mandela / District 6 Museum turns 19

I realised today that I need the same three things in order to write a blog article as I do to write a song: to be deeply moved, space/solitude and time.

Today turned out to be a beautiful, bright, hot and windy day in Cape Town. Not one for crowds, I nevertheless took a train to town, to be part of the District Six Museum’s 19^th birthday celebrations. To my delight, there weren’t many people viewing the big Nelson Mandela memorial service (at Orlando Stadium, in Gauteng) on the big screens outside the City Hall, so I could walk through town easily. A few milestones happened in my own life 19 years ago, so in a way it was a time of personal reflection, as well. In 1994, I graduated for the second time, I got married, I voted in a general election for the first time, and I became a mother. So - quite a watershed year!

The atmosphere at the District Six Homecoming Centre (pictured above) was celebratory, yet respectful of the fact that the whole country was in mourning for our great leader, who died on the evening of 5 December. In her opening speech, Bonita Bennett (head of the District Six Museum) made it clear that they had had a dilemma about continuing with today’s event, but that they had reached consensus that there wouldn’t necessarily be a clash of interests, as all who mourned Madiba’s passing also celebrated his life and his great contribution to the country and the world. She was right – we were there to celebrate the museum’s 19^th birthday, but we were all in mourning; people possess the capacity to feel many emotions at once, so there was no contradiction. Some self-righteous guy pitched up at the end of the event and when asked where he’d been, made a point of saying  - looking around to make sure he had an audience - that he’d been making a statement, as he was opposed to the idea of the celebration. Interesting that he’d turn up at all, considering the intended ‘statement’. Different strokes…..! I suppose there’s not much satisfaction in staying home to make a statement if nobody knows. J

The programme was short, but interesting. The D6 Museum, a living and growing museum, has a few projects running, and two of these were highlighted today. There was a group of youngsters who had been put through a course of recording oral history and the basics of curating, amongst other things. They each received certificates. The other group that was acknowledged was a group of senior people, who had been through a “learning journey” with Mandy Sangster, the Education Officer at the museum – these people had been taught the finer points of telling their authentic stories, and were going to be involved in the daily work that the museum did on an ongoing basis. I was inspired by the fact that the outreach and empowerment work of the museum embraced both the young and the old.  

A few members of the audience spoke, off the cuff, and this part of the programme was also interesting. I’m always curious when watching people with a microphone in their hands and a captive audience in front of them – with some, you wish you could listen for much longer, and others, you wonder if they’ll ever stop! J

Then, the main feature of the event was actor and producer (I’m sure he wears lots of other hats), Basil Appollis. He did an extract from his show, My Word, currently on at the Baxter Theatre (till 31 Dec.). If I understood correctly, it’s an hour-long, one-man show, where he ‘recites’ (there has to be a better word) extracts from the play, Buckingham Palace, by Richard Rive.

I love meeting up with old friends, and this is what I did at the event; I got chatting to five different people and that, to me, was the cherry on top. There’s nothing like personal connection.

Afterwards, I made my way to the Grand Parade, a big public space opposite our City Hall   (pictured above), just one block from the Homecoming Centre. I’d decided that, if there weren’t huge crowds (I’m slightly claustrophobic), I’d watch some of the proceedings on the big screen, then write a message in one of the memory books. When I stood in front of the big screens, I felt the oppressive heat of the day and decided I’d rather get home before peak hour and watch in comfort. I asked someone about the memory books, she directed me to a security person, and within minutes I had written my short message in one of the books. I felt like I had done something significant, even though it was such a small gesture.

Like most South Africans, I’ve been reflecting on the life of Nelson Mandela, thinking about the many aspects of his life. I can’t help but be struck by a few things: his incredible strength of character and conviction, his forthright manner of communicating, his skill as a political and military strategist, and his depth of wisdom. But most of all, I’m inspired by the consistency with which he dealt with people – quite simply, he treated everyone with the same measure of respect, regardless of rank and all the other superficial things we are socialised to heed when deciding how to approach someone.

I am also deeply inspired by how he looked after himself, eating simple meals and walking every day (until his health failed). And I think we all loved his sense of humour. He was an insatiable scholar, he used his incarceration to further his education, earning degrees while imprisoned, and he emerged from his years in captivity championing education as a weapon against poverty. He came out of prison on his own terms (I clearly recall how many times we’d hear on the news that he’d been offered conditional release, but that he had refused) and he shocked the entire world by preaching forgiveness and inclusivity.

The real challenge for South Africa is to get back to the vision Nelson Mandela had for this beautiful country. Yes, we can each emulate him in our own lives, but we sorely need our leadership to stop feathering their own nests, and to get back to what really matters – eradicating the dire poverty all around us, building houses (and there’s nothing wrong with RENTING, people!), creating jobs, and cleaning up the crap in our education system. For starters!

What are we waiting for?

Trio concert at Baran's: Sun 1 Dec at 4:30pm

On Sunday 1 December, I'll be doing a trio concert at Baran's Kurdish Restaurant. This exotic venue has been the location of three of my concerts and quite a few other gigs. Located at 36 Burg Street, in the city centre of Cape Town (in fact, right on Greenmarket Square), it is a gem of a place; well worth a visit.

The line-up for this concert: KEITH TABISHER (guitar), VALENTINO EUROPA (bass) and I (voice, guitar)
.
We'll be doing some of my original songs, some original instrumental pieces by Keith, as well as a few covers that we particularly love.

Tickets cost R100 and include a light meal. Drinks are NOT included in the ticket price.

To purchase tickets, you may contact me via this blog, my e-mail address (guitartrudy@gmail.com) or my Facebook Musician page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Trudy-Rushin-Singer-Songwriter/345091698939418
In fact, keep checking my Facebook muso page for updates.

This concert is the second in a series of fundraisers for "Getting Summer to Thailand", a project aimed at enabling my daughter, Summer, to go to Thailand with their school next year. Our previous concert was on 11 August. I'd hoped to have the second one in October, but got so busy with other things, that 1 December was the soonest we could realistically hold the next one. Concerts are not cake sales - a whole lot of behind-the- scenes work goes on.  A WHOLE LOT!

I'm really looking forward to working with these two fine musicians, and hope to be performing to a full house. It's a cosy venue, so we're looking at 60 - 70 people. Ticket sales are going well, so please don't wait too long to contact me to reserve yours, as they might be sold out by then. Just contact me, and I'll set them aside for you. Capetonians have a reputation for leaving everything to the last minute. Am I right?  :-)

Pictured above, Keith and I. Below, Tino Europa on double bass. Both pics taken on 11 August.

I'm on YouTube!

I'm very happy to announce that my first-ever YouTube video is live.  I wrote the song, "In the Shade of Table Mountain", early in 2011, after I had spent some time interviewing land claimants of District Six, many of whom were in their senior years.

Here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QniLmlEESCI

On the video, produced by Lisba Vosloo, I perform with long-time friend and duo partner, guitarist Keith Tabisher. Part of the footage was filmed at Baran's Kurdish Restaurant, part at Milestone Studios (where owner Murray Anderson recorded the audio track) and part in present-day District Six. Archive footage of the area was also used.

Big smile! I'm busy working on getting the next one up.

The pic of us below was taken by photographer Shireen Louw, at a wedding in Sept 2013.

And today is…..?

My mother asks this question throughout the day. Everytime she asks, I have to pause and orientate myself, because it’s the school holidays, and, with my usual routine out by the window, I don’t have as clear an idea of where I am in the week as I normally do. After I answer her, she admonishes herself for not having known. I assure her that it’s understandable, as she doesn’t have appointments or deadlines – I tell her most retired people experience that. It feels wrong to tell  her, “Well, it’s because you have Alzheimer’s”, even if it is true.

It’s funny how the words spoken by one’s mother have a level of power that stands alone. Yesterday my mom saw my freezer door ajar and commented on how much ice there was. I told her I was busy defrosting it, and that it had been a lot worse when I started the task on Monday. She asked me why it had become so badly iced up, and I explained that I had been busy. She said, “But surely if you did it regularly, it wouldn’t get that bad?” She was right, of course, but I reiterated that I’d been very busy. And then she said something that affected me profoundly: “But that’s very naughty of you.” A simple sentence, said in all innocence, said in the typical way a mother speaks to a child. It hurled me back to my childhood, a time when everything my mother said informed me as to whom I was, whether I was on track or not, a time when I was a fully functional pleasing machine, where my sense of myself was gleaned through the spoken words and other non-verbal nuances of my rudder, my radar, my pilot, my anchor – my mother.  In an instant, I pulled myself back to the present and explained, probably in too much detail, just how busy I usually was, and how school holidays were the only times I could do this kind of thing.

The power of that one sentence, though - and its trigger effect - reminded me of a time when I’d gone back, for the umpteenth time, to a boyfriend I’d said I’d finally broken up with. An honest, well-meaning friend said to me, holding nothing back, “I’m very disappointed in you, Trudy.” I don’t think she’ll ever know how those words cut through me, destroying my sense of my ability to make a good decision. Again, she was completely right – it was ridiculous of me to have given the person another chance, and it must’ve been disappointing to all my friends; they just didn’t say it to me. In her childlike innocence, she had said what everyone else was thinking, but was too socially conditioned to say. The one thing that that encounter taught me, though, was never to say those words to anyone, especially my children, unless I was prepared to live with the alienating consequences. Words can be more powerful than we realize, and can cause long-term damage.

But the beauty of the power of words is that they can also alter the course of one’s life in a positive way; sometimes, a simple sentence, uttered at the right time, can open your eyes, make you change direction and lead you to more freedom and happiness than you’ve ever had. A few years ago, stuck in a decaying relationship, I was asked this question by my partner, after I’d complained about things I wasn’t happy with: “Trudy, who’s in control of your life?”  That was arguably the most life-altering question I’d ever been asked. It sparked an energy vibration in me to regain control of my life and to take decisions that were healthy for ME. It was a question that freed me from a confining situation, a situation that only I could free myself from. 

The time was obviously right.

And today is…..? 

September school holiday

Day 1 of the long-awaited September school holiday. While I have spent quite a bit of time on my laptop, today's actually been one filled with housework. Decided to do as much as I could today (and tomorrow), in order to enjoy the rest of the week. Having said as much, there's still quite a bit of school (college) work to do over the next few days, so this is more like a working holiday than anything else. Still, it's such a delicious feeling to wake up naturally, without an alarm, and to realise that, not only do you not have to go to work, but the sun's shining, the birds are chirping and it's starting to look like spring! Stretch.... lie in a bit longer.... relish the freedom!

We've had a lot of rain, recently, with snow capping our nearby mountains. There was even snow on Table Mountain, on two occasions! Very unusual. Driving around our suburbs yesterday, every now and then I'd catch a glimpse of the snow-capped mountains and just smile - it's quite surreal.

My landlord had the gardener around recently, so the garden's looking cleaned up and 'nice'. I haven't had much time to be in the garden, but I love seeing things I planted long ago starting to flower again. Basically, I just love plants that take care of themselves. Like clivia - oh my goodness, don't they make a pretty picture!
I used to have a lot of impatiens (the perfect plant for me!), but there's nothing left. The last time I looked for some at the nursery, they were sold out. Other lazy gardeners must've got there before me. :-)

On Wednesday I have an exciting day - finalising my first-ever song video! Haven't thought beyond a certain point yet (typical!), but I'm sure it's got a lot of potential for me, a somewhat reluctant artist who loves performing, but can't seem to get her material released.  And don't talk about copyrighting! OH, I could kick my butt, the way I've been dragging my feet in that department. I think I just need someone to manage my music career for me. I'll write songs and perform, and you do the other stuff. Yes - now there's a plan. Any takers?

So, with my little afternoon blog moment done, it's back to the To Do list. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Restoring my equilibrium / Wedding on a farm

Isn't it funny how times change? Something I've realised is that, as crazy as my life may seem, I need the routines that exist amid the seeming chaos. When my routines change, especially when the catalyst is external, I struggle to find my equilibrium. I'm old enough to know that 'the only constant in life is change', and to have dealt with some fairly major ones, but I still find myself feeling wobbly when faced with yet another one.

So, to cope, I find myself clinging feverishly to little routines and rituals that are still within my control; they give me a sense of continuity, of stability, something I realise I badly need.

I've also realised that, no matter how crazy my life becomes, I'll always want to be involved in musical performance. When I go for long periods without it, I start to feel like my spirit is shrivelling, like I'm losing my sense of what life's about. In contrast, when I do perform, I feel like an eagle soaring, like I could fly, fly, fly and never stop. Hard to explain. Some people call it an artistic personality, but I've seen it in people who are not artists; this is a phenomenon of people who have a burning passion. I've probably said this may times in my posts, but I really wouldn't know how to live without this passion. No matter what I go through that feels like 'Plan B' for my life, as long as I have performing opportunities, I can put up with anything.

Yesterday I sang at a wedding on a wine farm. It filled my spirit with so much joy, for so many reasons. Firstly, the statement two people make when they get married is such a huge one - that true love deserves commitment, and that life works better when we walk the journey with a partner. Secondly, there's something magical, almost other-worldly, about weddings - people dress up, the place is decorated beautifully, and it's a gathering of happy people, all there to celebrate love. What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic. :-)

But of course I wasn't there as a guest - I was there, with guitarist Keith Tabisher, to play my guitar and sing. And that makes me happier than you could ever imagine.

Another source of delight for me was that it was held on a farm, so we had the wonderful experience of driving through farm roads and filling our lungs with clean country air. The photo attached to this post was taken as we were leaving the farm.

I dream of leaving the city and living on a farm.

One day....

Moratorium on kindness?

Last week, I found myself in a room with two people raising their voices at each other, just like so many times before, with the common element of all the arguments being one individual. This is a person who has, to put it mildly, a problem. With very poor boundaries, respect for others, and  - in my opinion - self-respect, she blasts her way through any situation that presents her with difficulty, becoming verbally abusive, refusing to listen to anyone else's opinion or explanation, and spewing her toxicity over everyone within earshot. The fact that this is a work environment, where the staff are thought of as educated professionals, makes this even more disgusting.

In this most recent outburst, a well-meaning colleague was taken to task for having made a mistake in the course of doing a favour. Instead of bringing it to her attention in  a calm, professional manner, there was accusation, vitriole, and the now-commonplace verbal barrage, complete with headache-inducing volume, finger wagging and that distorted, arrogant facial expression I have become familiar with in the last seven months.

At the end of the ugliness, there was an announcement that colleagues were no longer to do favours for each other, a demand initially screamed across the room by The-out-of-control-one. For some reason or other, I found this even more offensive than the ugly argument I had just been privy to. To instruct people not to help each other, when they form a team whose very thriving depends on co-operation, unselfish sharing of resources and being there for each other (especially when deadlines loom), is extremely counter-productive. For me, it was completely unacceptable, because it goes against my chosen value system, a system of living gently and kindly that I actively promote every day of my life. I do this to counter the bitterness and vindictiveness in the world, in  fact the very harshness which oozes from the pores of this offensive colleague.

I refuse to stop helping people, and I refuse to stop doing favours when my fellow-workers need help. To make sure no-one was in any doubt as to where I stood on the matter, in the midst of the chaos and screaming, as the announcement ("No-one does favours for anyone anymore!") was being made, I shook my head fiercely and made my own counter-announcement to my stunned colleagues: "I don't mind if you do favours for me, and I'm happy to keep doing them for you."

How do we encourage our charges to live compassionately and considerately towards each other, and towards the planet, if we can't do so ourselves?

There's only ONE loser in this story.    

Concert on Sunday 11 August 2013

I'm two weeks away from a concert with an exciting trio: Keith Tabisher (guitar), Tino Europa (bass) and Roy Davids (drums). It's on Sunday afternoon, 11 August, from 3pm to about 5:30pm, so you can still enjoy your evening, doing whatever you normally do to wind down your weekend.

The venue is Stephanian's Sports Clubhouse, in Tristania Road, Ottery, in Cape Town. How do you get there? Get to Ottery Road, about 1km from the Hypermarket, turn into De Wet Road, then right into Chris Barrie Road. At the end of that road, turn left into Tristania Road and immediately right into the sportsfield, where the venue is.

Tickets, at R100 each, may be bought directly from me. Contact me via this blog, my Facebook page or my e-mail: guitartrudy@gmail.com to book your single, double or table of six.  Yes, this is a concert with a difference - guests will be seated at tables, and are welcome to bring their own refreshments.

This concert performs a dual role: providing a relaxing Sunday afternoon of live jazz, and  raising money to help my daughter realise a dream - to travel to Thailand with her school in June 2014. It's a wonderful adventure and humanitarian trip, organised by World Challenge, a UK-based company with many years of experience. They take children from all over the world to different countries, take them on a 3-day mountain hike, involve them in a local community project and expose them to a way of living which encourages independence, group work and leadership, away from the comfort of their homes and families. The children, all in Grade 10, shop for ingredients at local markets and cook their own meals. They take turns being group leaders. From the moment my daughter heard the presentation, she set her heart on going, and I promised her that, together, we, as a family, would make it happen.

And so it starts. We have nine months in which to raise the rest of the money, and the trip happens in 11 months' time. There's so much to be done, lots of equipment to be bought and fitness to be increased, but we've paid the deposit and we're committed.  

We are making this happen.

The space dilemma

This evening I read a blog post by British actor and writer, Stephen Fry, which affected me deeply. In it, he writes about how touched he was by the outpouring of love and support from people after his suicide attempt. His writing is both eloquent and gut-wrenchingly direct. He writes openly and honestly about his struggle with depression and his preoccupation with suicide.  The article addresses the topic of loneliness, one I've come to realise very few people are prepared to discuss and especially admit to dealing with. He writes about how, despite being a busy, sought-after member of society, he suffers from loneliness. There's no way I could do justice to it; you need to read the article, called Only The Lonely (www.stephenfry.com).

The part of the article that resonated most with me, as someone who also has to deal with loneliness, was his explanation of his dilemma about relationships: he says that it would seem as though the answer to loneliness would be to have an intimate relationship, but that when he's in a relationship, he also has a strong desire to be alone. I have never read a more honest exposition of this dilemma. It's a topic my son and I have discussed a few times, because we're both people who have hobbies that require us to spend (lots of) time alone. The truth is that this can make having  a relationship complicated. Some people are lucky enough to be with emotionally mature people who understand this need for space and don't feel threatened by or insecure about it, but my own experience has been that this is rare. For me, the search for said mature and secure person continues.

One would assume the ideal would be to be with someone who also has a need to be alone, some of the time. I firmly believe that it's possible for two people to have a warm, loving relationship while still enjoying time away from each other to work on individual pursuits. But it does require flexibility, maturity and a desire to make it work. The hardest part is always going to be sharing the same living space, because people who need a lot of time to themselves often keep unusual hours. That's putting it mildly. :-)

When we think of loneliness, we usually associate it with old people, but many people experience loneliness throughout their lives. We all know the expression about being "lonely in a crowd", but sometimes you can be lonely even in a relationship, because you're so misunderstood.

One of the reasons it's important for us to stay connected to other people is that we are indeed social beings, and we all have a need for connection, for contact, for intimacy. A phenomenon that keeps rearing its head is how many opportunities there are to connect with inappropriate  - unavailable - people, and how seductive this can be, for many reasons. The angel and devil on opposite shoulders go through their usual scripts, and in the end you're left with yourself and your conscience. If you can go against a moral code you've adhered to and fiercely defended all your life, then you need to be able to deal with the fallout when it comes.

If you can do that, then you should yield to the offers at hand, as transient, foundation-less and inherently deceitful as they may be. What I have discovered is that, when we have to, we can justify anything.  
So what would you do? Be with someone because what you're really looking for seems unattainable, or hold out "till the real thing comes along" (as the song goes)? And if someone you know opts for the path of least resistance, do you have a right to judge that person?

Like so many of my blog posts, I started out writing about one topic and ended on another, albeit related. But I think I've made my point, that loneliness has many aspects, and it can give rise, especially after a long period, to a sense of desperation; it is this desperation, then, which causes otherwise-sensible people to throw caution to the wind and make out-of-character decisions. In the case of Stephen Fry, it was to attempt to end his life, the ultimate statement of hopelessness in a world that he felt less and less connected to. Thankfully, he did not succeed at his suicide attempt. If that article is anything to go by, I think he could play a huge role in educating people about his condition, to bring about greater understanding, simply by telling his own story.

I wish him well. He doesn't know me, but I believe we are all connected by our common humanity.

Square peg in a round hole

Written 13 June 2013

I’ve been feeling strange, recently. The phrase, “square peg in a round hole” keeps popping into my head, as I find myself dealing with some of the oddest things, things that really frustrate my spirit!

On the plus side, I’ve just had my contract renewed for a second 6-month period, which gives me the kind of security I didn’t have this time last year. So, in that way – a very important way - life has moved in the right direction for me (and my little family). I am deeply thankful to be employed, especially after having been unemployed for a few months and more so because of our country’s growing unemployment crisis. 

It’s still strange, though, to fit into the rules and regulations of an educational institution, being the free spirit that I am. I’m a singer-songwriter, I create music on my guitar and I perform to audiences. I view the world like most creative people do, standing in awe of nature’s wonders, the glorious sunrises and sunsets, the gentle sound of the rain, and the many other stimuli that keep one’s senses awake and alert, wide open to inspiration. Having said as much, I’m mature enough to do what’s expected of me at work, and to find, in the middle of all the prescriptions, my ‘groove’. Nothing can change the fact that I am a qualified, experienced educator and that I love teaching. I enjoy my time with my students, and the team I’ve been part of since January has evolved in interesting ways. I can safely say I enjoy going to work, because I feel I’m making a contribution to the new South Africa – one of my long-term goals.    

At the campus where I work, the staff are required to wear uniforms, something I’ve managed to evade, as I form part of a relatively new department, where this issue has not been finalised (yet). I have very strong views on this matter, and when the topic surfaced recently, it rekindled a strong desire to put those views in writing.

When I’m trying to understand something, I always go back to the source, to try to get a sense of the context, because everything has a context – everything is relative. The decision to wear uniforms was made by staff in departments which train students for industries related to aspects of one’s appearance. The staff voted to have uniforms made, and they all seem happy to be dressed in that manner, with the rationale being that they were industry-specific.

So everyone was issued with certain uniform items, in the corporate colours, and this is what those staff members wear every day. The uniform is also the required dress code for Admin staff and Management.

I can appreciate all of the above, I’ve heard the rationale many times, and I can see why people were attracted to it. For some, the convenience of a uniform was the deciding factor – it takes away the need to decide, on a daily basis, what to wear.

However, for me, personally, this issue is problematic.

In my place of work, I am an educator.  In my current job, I teach English to students, most of whom speak isiXhosa as a first language and who struggle with English. For many, the only time they ever speak English is at college. And even then, it’s when they’re forced to respond to a lecturer’s questions. For some, there is an ideological resistance to English as “the white man’s language”, which further clouds their inclination to speak it. For others, there’s huge embarrassment around making mistakes in public, so they prefer not to speak it in class, for fear of being ridiculed.

My point? I have my work cut out for me, and I’m up for the challenge. My students have expectations of me, and I am there to fulfil a certain role, as set out formally in my employment contract, but also as determined by the particular needs of my students. While I do lecture in a particular department, I form part of another department, which means I could be sent to any of the seven campuses. As such, I don’t identify specifically with a particular industry – I am strictly a language/communication lecturer.

 My general point, basically, is that the role of an educator is to EDUCATE, and, unless there is a pertinent reason to do so, wearing a uniform is not going to make you a better educator. And if there is a broad appeal for uniforms, people’s individual rights to differ should be respected. It’s as simple as that.

But my really strong views on this matter, unapologetically subjective, are linked to my personal value system. This, for me, is where the dichotomy lies. My value system entails a strong focus on being one’s authentic self, of discovering and living one’s truth. I consciously challenge and encourage my students to be proud individuals, to stand up for their beliefs, and not to be afraid to stand out from the crowd. In other words, the value system I espouse and propagate, which I believe is extremely important for the youth of post-apartheid South Africa, is to be the best person you can be, that each person is unique, and that that uniqueness will set you apart and bring you the satisfaction of contributing to society in a real way; I teach that no two people are alike, and that our differences enrich our lives and make for an exciting society. I focus on personal attributes, I speak positively and in an uplifting way, to constantly pour into their psyches that they ARE good enough, and that they need NEVER feel they are inferior in any way. I teach it and I live it.

With all this focus on the individual, it would be stupid for me to stand in front of my students wearing a uniform, a predetermined set of clothing that ensures I do not stand out from the rest, that I blend in, merge, tone down, fade, and become a shadow, an amorphous, obsequious, compliant spectre, an opinion-less cog in a wheel, a wheel going nowhere but round and round and round.   

What I suspected all along has been confirmed: it does not end with the clothing items. The accessories can’t be your own choice of item, even in the corporate colours – that is not allowed. More than that, you are expected to have a “mainstream” hairstyle and to wear make-up. You can be called one side and spoken to about your eyebrows, if they don’t meet with certain standards.  J

This past week, I saw one brave individual, who chooses not to adhere to the dress code, being publicly humiliated - named and shamed. It’s unbelievable, disgusting and totally unacceptable. The whole ethos is awash with old-South African, police-state, authoritarian, top-down, undemocratic values and practices. I see no trace of our new, so-called “enlightened” society there. How very, very sad.

With the state of affairs in our country’s education system being such cause for alarm, how do people heading educational institutions justify this kind of insular thinking? What a wasted opportunity to lead with vision and innovation, at such an exciting time in our country’s history!

If leaders of schools/colleges are worthy of their positions, then these things should be uppermost in their minds:

• Are the educators EDUCATING?
• Are they operating with INTEGRITY?
• Are they fostering healthy VALUES in their students?
• Are they teaching GENDER sensitivity?
• Are they promoting ENVIRONMENTAL awareness?
• Are they making sure students learn a sense of COMPASSION?
• Are they encouraging ACCEPTANCE and CELEBRATION of diversity?
• Are they stimulating debate, developing a sense of QUESTIONING (of outdated systems) and igniting curiosity and a SOLUTION-ORIENTATED mindset in their students? 

If I were to wrap up with a one-liner, it would be this: If you continue to focus on what’s on the outside, you’ll miss out hopelessly on all the wonderful things that people have on the inside. 

Wading

Written 08 April 2013

Wading through the quagmire: that’s how I feel about the daily grind, the mundane-but-necessary (?) functions we have to perform, as we go about this thing called life. It feels like it’s becoming harder to reconcile the disparate parts of myself. It’s as though the gap between the left and right brain sides of me, which used to co-exist fairly peacefully, is widening, to the point where the middle expanse of desert has become so vast that it renders the extremes practically non-existent. 

Given the choice, what would most people do with their lives? We often say we wouldn’t work, that we’d just pursue pleasure. I’m not so sure about that. I like being busy. I like it when I’m working on a project. I love planning something, an event, collaboration between artists, that kind of thing. I love being around interesting, creative people, not necessarily artists, although I must admit the attraction is inevitable and immediate. I love pushing myself beyond my previous limits.

I’m living between the bullet points of yet another To Do list, stuck after point 1. This is in relation to the four songs I recorded in July last year, with Wayne Bosch. I naïvely thought I’d get the tracks, tick off point one on the list, then neatly work my way through the other points: tick, tick, tick, tick…. But it was not to be. And while I’m acutely aware that this experience was probably meant to be, that I’m learning valuable lessons as I go along, I’m still a bit annoyed – at no-one in particular – that there’s yet another delay, especially one that feels avoidable. You can’t rush the realisation of your dream. You can’t rush any of the steps along the way, and you have to know when to apply brakes and defer the launch. Had I trusted my instincts – in July last year, I heard the flaws clearly – I might have redone the recording before Wayne left Cape Town. But still, something tells me, as corny as it sounds, that everything is exactly as it’s meant to be.  Time will tell.

I just need to proceed with gentleness, LIVE my truth consciously - every moment of every day - and allow for all the perfect elements to gravitate towards each other, blend harmoniously, and produce a solution that restores my smile.

So, as I resume my role as an English language educator, I know that once again I run the risk of being swallowed up by the minutiae, the learner outcomes, the inescapable and relentless admin, and I wonder how I continue to justify this chameleon existence. I think one of my biggest escapes is my ability to go inside my head and live my preferred reality there, the theory being that, if you focus long enough on what you want, and put a lot of your time and energy into getting there, you will attract it. Just a theory? 

Time will tell.

I am who I am, because of…

                                                                                          11 March 2013

I recently had to say goodbye to a very dear friend, when he and his family relocated to another city. In a message I sent him, I wished him well in his new job and thanked him for his transformative role in my life. Part of his response was, “I am who I am, because of the people in my life.”

Today that phrase is particularly real to me, as I try to get my head around things happening to people in my close circle. It’s hard for me to feel happy and cheerful when people I love are in pain. It’s hard for me to switch off from their reality and to brush things off because they’re not happening to me directly. We feel this particularly when, as parents, we know our children are unhappy or in pain.  But it doesn’t stop there. If a friend is going through some kind of trauma, we feel it too. Maybe some people are capable of staying aloof in these circumstances, but I’m not one of them.

Someone I love is in pain, a pain I have experienced, and a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I have no doubt whatsoever that she is strong enough to survive this and to move on to a bright, happy future, but there’s a long road ahead, a road fraught with all kinds of issues. That she is loved and valued, I hope she has no doubt – in fact, that is going to be one of her anchors, now more than ever before.

This is in line with my belief that we are all connected by our common humanity. We feel what others feel, even when they’re strangers to us. We read about something that happened on another continent, and we feel the sadness, the pain, the despair. We want to reach out - sometimes we’re even moved to make some kind of gesture, to assist people far away.

But there’s another kind of empathy that I’m struggling with, because the issues that make this a dilemma are exactly the same issues that usually cause most of my dilemmas: when someone I love is doing something that I think is, at the very least, inadvisable, or, at most, dangerous and destructive, I have a dilemma. Usually the person is doing something by his or her own choice, and knows, intellectually, what the risks are. You could say that the person has made an ‘informed choice’. My dilemma is: do I say something, and come across as judgemental, or do I give the person the space to exercise his or her right to choose, regardless of consequences? The point is, given the fact that each of us is on a unique journey, do I even have a right to voice my opinion on how someone’s living their life? Pointing something out to a friend doesn’t mean you think you’re perfect and that you haven’t made stupid choices, yourself. It just means, in this case, that you can see what the behaviour is likely to lead to, and the person involved can’t – or won’t.

I agree with my friend who now lives so many hundreds of kilometres way: I am who I am, because of the people in my life. I feel their pain. I sense the danger of their high-risk behaviour. It’s hard for me to  watch silently from the sidelines.

I try to operate on the basis of treating others like I want to be treated; if I were making a huge error in judgement (let’s face it, when we’re so caught up in our addictions, we don’t have objectivity), I’d like you to tell me, as diplomatically as you can, that I’m making a fool of myself. Had someone done that to me, I would have been spared a lot of pain.

So, what does a good friend do: say something, or give your friend enough space to learn the hard way? Ouch! 

  

Baby James

 Sat. 26 Jan. 2013

Today I went to the supermarket and I saw three deep bins filled with CDs and DVDs. My daughter was with me; we made a beeline for the bins, and proceeded to scratch through them like we were looking for something specific. In her case, she was – she was focussing on the movies, looking for any of the Harry Potters. In my case, I was looking for music. I eventually left with three CDs, all at greatly reduced prices: Carole King’s Tapestry (I have a feeling I already have this one), Tony Bennett’s Duets II, and – the one I’m listening to right now, through my son’s powerful headphones – James Taylor’s self-titled album. My heart is deeply soaked in the blues, for sure. Listening to the final track, recorded live: ‘Steamroller’.  Oooooooh, yes! “-“ You go, Baby James! Haha!

Flicking through the tracks, listening to the one that attracted me to the CD: ‘Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight’. Hmmmm….verrrrry nice! Another really cool song is ‘Walking Man’.

In a completely different mood, the Tony Bennett duets. ‘Blue Velvet’, with k.d. lang – haven’t heard her for a while. What a voice! Velvet indeed.

Really interesting artists on this album with the legendary crooner: Lady Gaga, John Mayer, Amy Winehouse, Michael Bublé, Aretha Franklin, Sheryl Crow, Willie Nelson, Queen Latifah, Norah Jones, Josh Groban, Natalie Cole, Andrea Bocelli, Faith Hill, Alejandro Sanz, Carrie Underwood and Mariah Carey.

Listening to Queen Latifah singing a song that recently captured my attention and which I’ve included in my repertoire – ‘Who Can I Turn To?’ A truly special song, with some of the most poetic lyrics ever. I love singing it.       

Mmm, Norah Jones  - ‘Speak Low’.  Her voice sounds mature and very jazzy. Go, Norah!

Oh, what a pretty song: ‘The Girl I Love’ – Sheryl Crow with Tony Bennett. Lovely. 

Freedom

                                                                                          

16 January 2013

I aspire to waking up early to meditate and getting to bed early, to enjoy a good night’s sleep. I aspire to living in an organised house, with no clutter, with all my books on shelves, filed alphabetically. I aspire to having an audio library of every song I’ve ever written – all copyrighted, of course – and to steadily rolling out album after album of beautifully recorded songs.

Many years ago, before I realised how unpredictably the road would wind, I aspired to having a life that was picture-perfect. But here I am, aged 51, and my reality is very different. The truth is, no matter how I look at it, I wouldn’t change a thing. Of course, that’s not strictly true, because I have this long list of goals that I’ve been systematically ticking off for years, but I understand the link between my experiences – the pleasure and the pain – and who I am today.

My life is filled, not with alphabetically-packed books or colour-coded wardrobes, but with so many things that make my heart sing. Besides the people in my life and music, the thing in my life I prize most highly is freedom. There’s so much I don’t have, so much I wish I’d already accomplished, but I have my freedom – and that means everything to me. A few years ago, when I was retrenched, I decided that I would re-invent myself, be whatever I chose to be, and I wouldn’t stop – I’d just keep re-inventing myself, have fun, probably fail a few times, pick myself up, start again, and again, and – like the title of one of my songs – write another ending. That’s the freedom I’m talking about - freedom to live my truth, whatever it may be.

Sometimes I forget how much that freedom means to me, that it’s my oxygen, and that I don’t actually know how to function without it.

What is this freedom? It’s the freedom to say what I like, do what I like, spend time with whomever I like, sing what and when I like, play my guitar when and how I like, be a solo act or part of a band, make choices that are right for me; freedom is trying new ways and changing my mind.

But now I have a new job and, to my surprise, I find myself in a situation where the way I dress is strictly regimented – I’m expected to wear a uniform! I am an artist, a free spirit, I wear colourful clothes because that’s how I like putting myself out into the world every day. I wrap scarves around my head and I wear ankle chains and hanging earrings. And the fun part is wearing something different every day.  So much about adult life is duty-based, survival-based, that it’s important for us to find and make magic wherever we can. If I’d wanted to wear a uniform, I’d’ve gone into one of those professions. Instead, I chose, admittedly at an age when I was too young to fully appreciate that I was an artist, to become a teacher. I started working thirty years ago, as a teacher, and this is the first time I’ve been confronted with this dilemma.

Nowhere during my interview was this ever mentioned – and it’s a huge deal to me. In fact, I even asked about the dress code for this chain of college campuses, and I was told that I needed to dress appropriately for my position as lecturer – no scruffy jeans, etc. This is the irony, though – only ONE of the 8 campuses has this rule, and it happens to be the one where I’ve been placed.

I have a real problem with this - a real, philosophically-based problem. I need to figure out how I’m going to handle it.

How far am I prepared to go?

Right down the rabbit hole? J   

When are you going to write a book?

                                                                                                                        2 Jan 2013

This is one of the two questions I’ve been asked most frequently; the other is, “Where can I buy your CD?”

I’ve just spent the past hour or so reading through all my blog posts since I started blogging, which was in the middle of 2009. Many of them reminded me of promises I’d made to myself,  inspiring me to take  a new look at some things I’d dropped along the way, as I allowed life to consume me. So, if they inspire me, the writer, there’s a strong chance they’d inspire others. Maybe the most logical thing, while not original by any means, is to turn what I’ve already written, and published as blog posts, into a book. I have a few ideas for the title, some more socially acceptable than others. J

Today’s my sister’s birthday – Happy birthday, sis!!! May you continue to be surrounded by your loving friends. And may you find the strength inside you to deal with life’s challenges when they arise.   

I think I’ve spent the past week wanting to blog, but not doing so because my son and I currently share the laptop and he’d set himself some serious goals with his own writing. Because I have the next few days to myself, space to do whatever I like whenever I like, I let him use it – the cycles of our lives ensure me uninterrupted solo time, so I patiently wait my turn.

We had my mom with us for a few days, and it was interesting to see how she was handling her memory loss. She knows she’s forgetful, and she often refers to it before asking a question. We never tell her she’s already asked it, and we never add to her negative talk about her condition (Amnestic Syndrome). I tell her she has to learn to accept it, that we’re all fine with it, and that we love her, but she’s obviously got to go through her own processes, as she adjusts to the profound changes in her life. Only she knows what it feels like to actually live with her memory loss. Nine months ago, she was hopping onto a train and taking herself to music shows, going to eat lunch at her favourite little chain restaurant, meeting friends, and organising and singing at concerts. Now she could get lost, forget where she lived, and so she doesn’t go out on her own anymore. She’s in peak physical health, at age 82, but because of her memory loss, she has to live a very different life. She feels most comfortable when she’s with the immediate family, because she’s self-conscious about her condition, afraid that friends might become annoyed at her repeating herself.

I don’t think my mom realises how special she is to everyone who knows her, and how much capacity we all have for accepting those we love, especially when they’re afflicted with conditions beyond their control. The bigger picture is, she’s in a comfortable, attractive home with my sister and her husband, she’s taken good care of, she’s treated lovingly, and all her material needs are met. She has certain routines and she has friends who visit her and take her out. She doesn’t have the stresses of living alone, of cooking and cleaning, and so on. Her life has changed radically since March 2012, but she’s in a very good space now. She’s always been an avid reader, and this is her main activity.

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Opposite my house, one of my neighbours has taken in two homeless people, giving them space in his double garage. There, they’ve set up a structure which serves as a bed, and this is a permanent feature, staring me in the face, as the garage has no door. Day and night, I’m exposed to the goings-on in this space. The worst is that the guy sometimes hits the woman. Most of the time, he’s drunk and I have to listen to his verbal abuse of her. She, to her credit, often scolds, not reciprocating. Today, however, she seems to have had enough of the subservient role, as she’s swearing right back at him. Usually I go outside and ask him to stop swearing, but today I think I’ll leave them (her) to vent. I have a dilemma with this couple – I want to help, but when I see how much my neighbour has to go through since his decision (they require constant attention), I know I don’t want to take that on. It’s his decision, and he has to live with the consequences. There’s an attitude of entitlement that I honestly can’t handle. The homeless man irritates the hell out of me by harassing my visitors – he comes right up to their car windows, with his offensive, alcoholic breath, and nags them for money. Most of my visitors are my guitar students, my clients, so I often have to go outside and reprimand him. He sees this as an opportunity to engage with me (negative attention is better than no attention) and then I have the problem of cutting him short without seeming disrespectful. The woman has serious health problems, and she’s had to be fetched by an ambulance and hospitalised twice in the last six months.

Sometimes I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, when I’ve been doing back-breaking housework for hours because I don’t have a domestic worker, and I’m tired and resentful because it’s the weekend and I’d rather be relaxing, and this man comes to my door and asks for money. I usually give clothes or food to the beggars who appear at my door, but I have a real problem with this guy. I detest the fact that he sits on his arse all day, using whatever money he gets (from begging) to buy cheap wine and get pissed out of his skull,  and then he has the nerve to ask me for stuff, like I OWE him something! Work in my garden, sweep my yard, DO something, and then I’ll think of helping you. That attitude of entitlement seems to be fuelled by the kindness of someone like my well-intentioned neighbour. 

What their presence has introduced into our quiet little neighbourhood is a little cave of obscenity. The vulgarity is so toxic, I find myself standing at my front door all hours of the night, asking them to please stop, as there are children around. With limited social skills, the guy’s temper goes from 0 to 100 in 5 seconds, as he resorts to the ugliest words to humiliate the woman. It’s so disgusting and so sad. The crazy thing is that that neighbour’s often not around to hear the drama.

11/03/13

About two weeks ago, the violence that this man inflicts on his partner got so bad, that I called the police. To their credit, they came fifteen minutes later. By this time, the man had disappeared, and the bleeding woman, who’d been shouting, “Call the police” not that long before, was telling the policemen, “No, officers, there’s no problem. No problem at all.”

I was sad for many reasons – for the cruel cycle of abuse, and for the people trapped in relationships where they can’t escape, even when an opportunity to do so is presented; but I was also sad that my teenaged children had to learn that lesson about domestic abuse in such a direct way.

I have a dilemma, now: what do I do the NEXT time the guy beats the living daylights out of the woman and she screams for someone to call the police? And how do the police keep responding to these calls, knowing the usual outcome? 

Insomnia and I

                                                                                                         05 January 2013

Here we go again. It’s 03:00, and I’ve given up my attempts at falling sleep. This is crazy! For me, anything could trigger this off, but usually it’s some kind of paranoia that creeps in after seeing geckos in the house, or worse – cockroaches!

Sometimes, when I tell someone I’ve been struggling with insomnia, they reply with some kind of perky suggestion like, “Why don’t you just get up and do something?”  Easier said than done. I always think to myself, “You’ve obviously never had insomnia.” You spend so many hours lying in bed trying to fall asleep, that getting up and doing something is the last thing on your mind. You’re actually tired, and you WANT to sleep. Especially during the school term, when I have to be up early the next day and teach for hours on end, getting to sleep is extremely important. You know that you’ll probably drop off at 4 or 5am, and you have to get up at 5:30am!

Tonight, however, because tomorrow’s a no-stress day, and I only have to be up at about 8, I decided, after much tossing and turning, to journal and then to blog. Also poured myself a nice comforting cup of green tea, which I’m sipping. I’m singing at a wedding next month, and the bride has requested a few French songs, so I’m listening to Madeleine Peyroux. Interesting, now that I’m doing all of this, I’m starting to yawn. Sorry, Madeleine, no reflection on your singing.

One thing’s for sure, I’ll leave a soft light on – just can’t get the sight of the three geckos I saw earlier out of my mind. I watched them with fascinated loathing, freaked out completely! They were in my shower, just off my bedroom, so I used the other bathroom. I suppose this could be called an irrational fear.

Listening to “Cantabile”, an instrumental piece played by the late Michel Petrucciani, Steve Gadd and Anthony Jackson on the “Live in Tokyo” album. Aah, music…. the great soother of spirits.

Ok, now I’m sleepy. Petrucciani trio playing “So What”. Hmmmm. Will leave the soft light and the music on, and drift off……… J

Reflecting on 2012

                                                                                                                              Dec. 2012 

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I sat typing my blog post, “Reflecting on 2011”. The year 2012 has taken so many twists and turns, that the biggest lessons for me have been to keep an open mind, not to take anything for granted, and to appreciate what I have when I have it.

This was a year in which my mom lost her independence, as a result of memory loss (she has Amnestic Syndrome), and had to change her living arrangements. This meant a move from a flatlet at my house to a room in my sister’s house. The changes in my mom’s life affected us all and played a huge role in our experience of the year. To my mom’s credit, all her years of taking good care of herself, eating healthily, being physically active, doing yoga stretches, following her passion (music) and having a positive attitude, have resulted in her being in great physical condition; at the ripe old age of 82, she has no lifestyle-related conditions, like high blood pressure, heart problems or diabetes.

For me, 2012 was also a year in which my employment situation was unstable, causing a host of related complications.

But, let me start.

1^st quarter, January – March

1. Didn’t have a New Year’s Eve gig – stayed home. Stayed up late, journalling.
2. 01/01/12: wrote a ballad entitled, “When I Sing My Song”
3. 05/01, sat on the beach for hours with a dear friend visiting her hometown from abroad.
4. Started the year with no job, except guitar lessons.
5. Daughter started high school, son entered Grade 11.
6. 26/01, concert with Keith Tabisher, at iBuyambo, exciting new Cape Town performance and exhibition space.
7. 27/01, solo set at premises of The Taxi, new online radio station.
8. +- 16/02, one of my mom’s opera contemporaries, soprano Pat Van Graan, passed away in London.
9. 30/01, got another substitute lecturing post at College of Cape Town, where I worked till 23 March.
10. 08/03, sang at Bernedette Muthien’s book launch; poetry collection called “ova”. Event at iBuyambo. I’d put music to one of her poems, called “Dream”.
11. 24/03, we noticed some marked changes in my mom, and this was the start of a period of exploration, with various medical people, of what had happened and what we could do.
12.  30 and 31 March, Cape Town International Jazz Festival – attended, didn’t perform! (Lest there be any confusion.)

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2^nd quarter, April – June

1. 01/04, Cousins’ Gathering.
2. 07/04, spent a few hours with a very special friend who’d been living abroad since 1997.
3. 19/04, sang at iBuyambo – 1 solo set, 1 duo set with Keith Tabisher.
4. Late April, started tutoring some of my ex-students at College of Cape Town, helping them prepare for their exams.
5. 03/05, a FIRST: my children performed as a duo at their school’s “Music Café”.
6. 06/05, another Family Gathering, on the occasion of my mom’s 82^nd birthday.
7. 09/05, Mom’s 1^st appointment at the Memory Clinic at Groote Schuur Hospital.
8. Mid-May, wrote a song, “The Land of No Smiles”.
9. 20/05: iBuyambo burnt down! Thankfully no-one was injured or killed!
10. 26 & 27/05, sang at The Good Food & Wine Show, as part of the Pink Drive (Cancer screening and awareness organisation.)
11. Sometime in June, picked up contract work, +- 3 hours a week, tutoring a foreigner.
12. Continued teaching guitar lessons.

This was a stressful time for me, as we attended to my mom’s changing needs. I was unemployed for this entire period, earning from guitar lessons and wherever I could pick up odd bits of work. During this time, I went back to doing Mind Power exercises, determined to keep believing that I would eventually get through this rough patch in my life.

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3^rd quarter, July – September

1. Early July, my landlord had a gardener denude the garden, pulling out my plants (incl my lavender!) and pruning the trees in such a radical way, that it changed the whole look and feel of the place. I mourned the loss of the magical garden like it was a death. I had never felt less welcome anywhere.  

2. After a donor offered to fund the project, I went into the studio with guitarist Wayne Bosch on 12/07 and recorded four of my songs. (Project to be taken further towards end of Dec.)

3. 14/07, sang at a People Living With Cancer event, at Crystal Towers Hotel.

4. In mid-July, having hit an all-time low, but desperate to survive, I sent an e-mail to my closest friends, asking for help – the response was both overwhelming and humbling. I sent a second, less personal e-mail to my broader circle, asking them to assist me by forwarding my CV and spreading the word that I was looking for work. Again, the response reminded me that help was just an “ask” away. 

5. Late July, was offered part-time office work at a friend’s company. On my 2^nd day there, I was called to two interviews the following week!

6. 30/07, went for 2 job interviews. Got accepted for one on 31 July, and for the other on 1 August.

7. 1 August was the start of my 5-month contract, teaching English at a high school in the southern suburbs. Everything changed for my little family, once I regained the security of a decent monthly income. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to stay employed - the alternative was just too dreadful.

8. 31/08, sang at a Cape Cultural Collective event.

9. 06/09, sang at the launch of Charlene Maslamoney’s book, “I’m Not Done Yet”

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4^th quarter: October – December

1. Decided that I wanted to have secured a job from January 2013 by the time my current contract ended, so I set about seriously looking for work.
2. 05/10, applied for two English-related lecturing posts at College of Cape Town.
3. 07/10, wrote a song, eventually entitled, “Power Source”
4. 13/10, sang at Inez Woods’ networking breakfast at Barrister’s, in Newlands.
5. 14/10, sang with Keith Tabisher at a joint concert with band, Jahm, at Baran’s Kurdish Restaurant.
6. 16 & 17/10, sang my latest song at two schools’ matric farewell evenings.
7. 21/10, drew up detailed Mind Power programme, to keep consciously directing my life along my chosen path.
8. 04/11, Cousins’ Gathering, Wynberg Park - a beautiful, memorable day.
9. 05/11, job interview at College of Cape Town.
10. Had new business cards and small posters made. Marketing, marketing, marketing…..
11. Had my guitar worked on: machine heads replaced and some other alterations.
12. 24 & 25/11, sang at the Cape Town Wedding Festival, on Rustenberg Wine Farm in Stellenbosch, one day with Keith Tabisher and one with Wayne Bosch; got booked to sing at two weddings, as a result of the festival. J
13. 27/11: College of Cape Town called to say I’d been successful: would start a 6-month contract in January 2013.
14. 01/12, sang at a book launch at District Six Museum: Memory Keepers, by Keith Adams.
15. 11/12, my final day at Wynberg High School, where I’d been since 1 August. Sad to be saying goodbye to cool colleagues (the children had left on 7^th), but happy about 2013’s new beginnings.
16. 11/12, the guitar students I teach at a local church had an end-of-year concert for their parents. 
17. Started painting our bedrooms – first time since we moved into the house, 16 years ago!
18. Sang at two seniors’ Xmas lunches.
19. 21/12, sang at an outdoor wedding, at Groot Constantia (wine estate), with Wayne Bosch.
20. 25/12, did a Christmas lunch gig at the Table Bay Hotel, in the V & A Waterfront, with guitarist Rudi Burns and bassist Donald Gain.
21. 31/12, stayed home with my children. Watched the sun set on the old year, took lots of photos. Couldn’t stay awake with the kids to watch it rise on the new year. 

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Some thoughts on 2013

Having experienced what I have in 2012, I definitely feel a shift in my consciousness and my approach to life. I can honestly say I’ve learnt some of my most important lessons ever, in 2012.

What do I know, without a doubt? I know that I have found peace with my dual role as a musician and an educator, and that I can live a fulfilled life doing both with a happy heart.  

I also know that my children deserve the best I can give them, and that includes seeing their mother happy and thriving.

I’ve come full circle, after having done the Mind Power course with Robin Banks in August 2003, and am 100% back on the programme, because it works for me. I will continue to live my life in a goal-directed way, planning and working towards fulfilling my dreams. For the rest, the parts of life that are unpredictable, I have to know and stick to my value system, and exercise the flexibility and discretion that life requires of me.

And lastly, I’m convinced that everything is energy.

And so I end this year – ready for what 2013 has in store for me. J

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