Do you know that I think
about writing throughout the day? I always have so much on my mind, so many
observations of life, so much to get out of my system and put into
words, that, by the time I actually sit down in front of my laptop, I have at
least three different ways I could start my piece. I yearn to write more often,
and I should make it happen. If you love something, you should do it.
I’ve been on a short college
break – just one week, hugged by two weekends – and today’s the last week day
before the last weekend. Why am I up so early, then? It’s garbage collection
day, or ‘Bin Day’, as we call it. I have to get up and haul the huge bin to the
street before the truck gets here. I’ve been doing it for years, so it’s just
one of those regular chores that keep the household running. Just another thread
in the rich tapestry of life.
My neighbour's mulberry tree in full bloom - spring is indeed here.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve
felt a significant shift of energy, and I’m fascinated by it. I’ve made a
conscious decision to live my life with more awareness, on many fronts. One of the
things I’ve started doing is, on becoming aware that I’m awake each morning, allowing
this thought to fill my head: “I accept the universe’s gift of a new day, and I
give the universe the gift of myself.”
I’ve been feeling a strong
sense of inexorability, as though what I’ve been moving towards, my whole life,
is just around the corner. It’s a wonderful space to be in, because my restlessness
has been at an all-time high. The more I experience and learn, and realise how
much bigger the world is than my everyday routine exposes me to, the more I’m
convinced of the imminence of a stronger, more profound shift. All I know is,
by this time next year, my life will be different in both a visible and a spiritual
way, and I’ll be going through my daily stuff with a deep feeling of having
found my purpose. I can feel its proximity, and I’m excited.
My head feels clearer, and I
feel a sense of immediacy and connection, when I contemplate - and then make –
decisions. Only when I become this focused, do I realise for how long I’ve been
wading through life under a cloud of uncertainty, self-doubt, and all those other
things that prevent us from living life to our full potential.
This has been an awesome
week. It started with my being part of a World Teachers’ Day event. I sang two
of my original songs to a group of about 50 educators, and I participated in the
day’s workshops. I’ll post the article I put on Facebook, explaining the day
and how it impacted on me. I met new people, I learnt a lot, and I left the
event fundamentally different – still proud to be an educator, but deeply moved
and inspired to do so much more.
Kalk Bay Harbour, from the railway station.
On Tuesday, my daughter and
I went to Kalk Bay, a quaint, seaside town situated just seven stations from
where we live. We hopped onto a train, and made our way to this little piece of
heaven. We spent the morning there, enjoying the hippie vibe and buying the things
we go there for: ankle chains, earrings and fun clothing items. My daughter
always buys succulents (plants) and we always buy second hand books. This time,
I bought four:
1. ‘Lucky
Man’ - autobiography by actor, Michael J Fox
2. ‘My
Own Private Orchestra’ – by Ian Fraser, a South African actor and playwright
3. ‘Escape’ – Carolyn Jessop (a memoir by a woman
who escaped from a religious cult)
4. ‘Dancer’
– by Colum Mc Cann (about a poor Russian boy who grows up to be a world-famous
ballet dancer)
I've already started reading Lucky Man - compellingly written.
I’ve become fascinated, all
over again, by people telling their own stories. When I was younger, I used to
love reading autobiographies and biographies. It seems I lost my essential self
for a few decades, but have come right back to that knowing, that truth, that
people telling their own stories is the most riveting of all.
When I was trying to decide
what to sing at the World Teachers’ Day event, I grappled with the usual
dilemma – whether to sing well-known, people-placating covers, or to sing my
own compositions. I went with my gut, and sang, at the opening of the event, my
song called “In the Shade of Table Mountain”. It’s about people who were forcibly
removed, by the apartheid regime, from an area called District Six, close to
our beautiful mountain, and their yearning to go back and live – and die - in the
shade of Table Mountain. It was the perfect song, because the event was held in
the District Six Homecoming Centre, and the theme, throughout the day, was of
people telling their own stories. The hook of my song goes, “All around in my
city / People who are just like me / Each one has a story to be told”. (You can
watch my video on youtube.)
Inside the District Six Homecoming Centre, on World Teachers' Day.
At the end of the event, I
sang another of my originals, called “My Favourite Time of Day”, a mellow bossa
nova. The facilitator of the event asked me to conclude with a sing-along song,
so I did “You’ve Got a Friend”, by Carole King. Even though I called out the
words before each phrase, to help those who didn’t know the words (most did), I
was struck quite powerfully by something - that the songs I regarded as
sing-along songs were culturally specific, and that my Xhosa-speaking contemporaries
were being left out. Life opens our eyes and hearts all the time – and we are
called upon to respond, with as much love as possible. I have a new challenge. Yes!!!!
The Table of Hope, where people's hopes have been written on rough strips of wood that are then made into a table. (D6 Homecoming Centre)
I have to end this post by
saying that the highlight of this short holiday has been spending time with my
children. Aged 16 and 20, they have busy lives, full of academic deadlines, creative pursuits, and all the
wonderful social stuff that young people do, so it was fabulous spending hours
and hours with them, just hanging out, cooking, eating, talking, laughing….. I
really have no adequate words, right now, for how magical my world is with these
two beings in it. My heart swells with love and pride. I am one lucky mother!
One of the many ocean pics I took from the train, on our trip to Kalk Bay.
