More thoughts on 2018

I think the biggest lessons I've learnt, this year, have come as a result of new experiences, including new challenges I set myself, new tasks I was assigned at work, and new people I encountered, in both my personal and professional spheres.

I've learnt to trust people less, which is more of a self-preservation strategy than anything else, but most decidedly a function of having been let down far too often. I'm like that while driving, as well - if a vehicle is approaching an intersection, and the driver is indicating, I don't assume that the vehicle is turning, until I see it doing so. At work,  I had to learn - the hard way - that just because you've given someone an instruction with a deadline, it doesn't mean the task will be done, let alone by the deadline. 

In March, I took on the responsibility of managing a small team at work, and it taught me a lot about people, but especially about myself. In fact, I learn something every day. I've learnt that you can't have an inflexible management style; your team members are different, so you have to handle them differently.  As an introvert, I am pulled out of my comfort zone by a lot of the typical expectations of managers, but I'm figuring it out as I go along, consciously exploring what leadership means, and making sure I stay true to myself and my value system. I started the year choosing "LEAD"', as my word for 2018. I told myself that, before I could lead others, I'd need to lead myself.  In order to lead myself, I needed to set myself a measurable challenge.

On 8 January 2018, I started a health challenge (Sleekgeek 30-Day Reboot Challenge), aimed at losing weight. I started out weighing 84,7kg, and by 22 July, I'd lost 12,9kg, with the scale at 71,8kg, my lowest weight in years. For some reason or other (extra stress at work?), I lost the focus I'd had, hit a plateau, and then started regaining some of the weight. I have now lost a total of 10kg, which is still a significant weight loss for me. I firmly believe it has set me on a path of healthier choices in different areas of my life. I want to lose another 5,7kg, to get to my goal weight of 69kg. I know how to do it, I know what works for me, and all I have to do is be as stubborn about my choices as I was from Jan to July this year. It's important to grow my lifestyle around healthy choices, and live that lifestyle with joy and celebration - it's not a hardship; it's a gift I'm giving myself. By December 2019, I want to look radically different to what I looked like in Jan 2018. I'm excited about the journey.

Very recently, a truth I'd started losing sight of struck me anew: I am much happier singing my original songs than covers, and I need to single-mindedly pursue avenues that provide me with opportunities to perform original material. I need to focus on what I want, and stop being distracted. What am I waiting for? 

I realised that my default mode is to invest a lot of time and effort (and even money) on making other people shine. I'm so good at it - I do it at work and in my personal life. I need to use those same skills and turn the spotlight onto myself. It's the opposite of what we were taught as children, but let's face it: how are you ever going to succeed at your own goals, if you're so busy helping others achieve theirs? And it's not an either-or situation - I can still facilitate the journeys of others, but I need to put myself on my list of priorities, and not feel guilty about doing so.  

A few days ago, I decided on my word for 2019: RHYTHM. I will explore various aspects of it, and I am particularly interested in musical rhythms, but also the rhythms of life, of nature, of sleep, of energy, etc etc. I'm sure I'll write a lot about it throughout 2019.

I think I'm ready for 2019. 

Tonight was my last gig at Sabria's Restaurant for 2018. Here's a photo of Shabnum, the manager of the restaurant, with me.

Full Moon in Cancer, 2018

I know there’s a taboo about saying this kind of thing, but I’m going to say it anyway: right now, I’m SO happy, I could die.

Tonight, my teacher, mentor, duo music partner and dear friend, Wayne Bosch, came to the restaurant where I do a solo gig every Saturday night, and did the gig with me. I had last seen him the night of our last concert together, on the 28^th of December, 2016.

He helped me set up my equipment, wouldn’t let me lift the speakers (even though I do it alone every week), we ordered supper for the break, and started playing. Just like that, and it was like we'd done our last gig the day before!

You know, there were a few reasons I hesitated to write all of this as a Facebook post (where I usually do my short-article raves); I’ll share two with you:

1.       People take offense when you say, ‘’I am so happy, I could die’’. They think you’re being morbid, or that you’re prophesying your own death. And then, if you were to die shortly thereafter, they’d all say, “You see! She knew she was going to die.’’ Naaah!! It’s just an expression to indicate an extreme!    

2.       Other guitarists I work with might feel bad about the reason I’m so happy I could die! It’s the most ridiculous reaction ever, because we all gig with various people, and we all have unique and beautiful experiences and relationships with our music partners. I rave about my guitar partners to each other, and the more open-spirited ones see the praise for what it is – it’s never meant as a comparison. On the contrary – I want people to know what a rich network of creative souls we are privileged to belong to.  I love hearing guitarists I work with tell me about other vocalists – it broadens my world, just hearing their names and a bit about their music and their voices.

So – tonight was spectacular! And I’d be failing myself wholly if I were to play this down, like I do so many of my emotions, because of people’s anticipated reactions. People either like me or they don’t. They have to make that choice based on who I really am, and not a diluted, sanitised version of me. 

Throughout our lives, we meet people - through our families, our schools, our jobs, our friends, our partners, and very often, through our interests. And you know how it goes – some people have very little impact on you. They’re in your life for a while, and then your reason for being together ceases to exist, and you make no effort to stay in touch.  Others, you like enough to want to see occasionally, and you go out of your way to stay connected, meeting for coffee, every now and then.

But there’s that third type of person – who creeps into your soul! You NEVER want to lose contact with that person, because they feel like they belong in your world – they get you, you feel inspired around them, being in their company lifts your spirits, and you just become a better you, as a result of them. Nuh? Well, that’s what Wayne means to me. He’s one of my favourite people in the world, and I was devastated when he relocated to Pretoria, in 2012. He’s such a natural teacher, and sharer of all that he knows, that even when he’s in casual conversation with you, he’s teaching you.

(I’ve written this on my blog before: when I heard that Wayne and his family were moving to Pretoria, we were gigging a lot, as a duo. I said I’d do whatever I could to continue performing with him, even if it was just once a year! We managed to do concerts in Dec 2013, 2014, 2015 & 2016. Last year was the first year since he left that we didn’t perform together.)

Tonight, at the gig, he used a loop machine, and he kept telling me how much fun it was. Well, I could see how much fun he was having! I expressed some reservation/fear,  and said it would take me a long time to get the hang of it. By the end of the evening, he’d got me to not only play his electric guitar (Whaaaat?), but to record something on the loop machine with it! 

But I think the essential ingredient with all of these extra-special people in our lives is TRUST. Many of you who don’t know this friendship are thinking, ”Hmmmm…., I wonder if there’s more.“’ There’s no more. This is a magical angel who occupies a space in my heart. I trust him implicitly, and that’s not so common, these days. I’ve even said it myself: I have trust issues.

So – and my children understand this friendship best of all, because they’ve observed it for ten years – tonight, having that wonderful experience of making music with someone who’s so good at what he does, such a lovely person, and such a trusted, soul friend, made me so happy, I could die.

I waited two long years to see my friend and play live music with him, and what a satisfying reunion it was.

Maybe it was the full moon in Cancer?  Haha!

Wish I had a nice pic of us tonight, but I don't, so here's an oldie:

                            Wayne Bosch and I at our 2014 concert at the District Six museum. 

                                                           Photo: Gregory Franz

Some thoughts on 2018

I can’t even relate to this date – the 17^th of December! Isn’t it August? Where did this year go?

I want to post an article, but I’m really sleepy, so I’m going to write a very broad overview of how this year has felt, for me.

I’m clear about one thing - everything is energy. I’ve become better at sensing energies and have learnt to trust my instincts.

2018 has, however, had one notable example of how wrong I can be. But it’s a journey, right?  

I think that life is all about ebb and flow, and I believe that we write our life stories by what we say yes to, and what we say no to. The big, visible leaps are the end products of the little decisions we make on a daily basis.

This year has also taught me that part of the ebb and flow is that people come and go.  Sometimes they leave, as a result of decisions made, but other times they leave permanently, through death.

This year our family lost our eldest relative, my mother’s older sister, Helen. She had turned 90 three weeks earlier, and we’d all gathered in celebration. Her death raised many issues for me. One of the realisations I had was that, no matter how old she is, and no matter how old you are, the death of your mother will always be devastatingly sad, profound and life-altering. A void is left that can never be filled.  An essential part of you leaves when she leaves.  

This year, on 1 August, I experienced the loss of a young person I had worked with, through sudden death in a car accident. Shakier Roberts was 25, recently married, and was ecstatic that his wife was expecting their first child.  He was one of the original members of The Delft Big Band, a trombonist, the band’s first manager, and a teacher at the Sekunjalo Delft Music Academy.  When I started as  the project coordinator of The Delft Big Band, in March 2016, Shakier was one of the first people I met, and he and I worked closely together for a long time. I got to know him and we developed a good relationship, built on mutual respect. His death, as well as the impact on his friends in the band, affected me profoundly.  A few days ago, on Friday, 14 Dec, his wife gave birth to a daughter - the little angel he'd loved long before she was born.

Something else that this year has reminded me is that it’s very, very important to KNOW yourself, to LIKE yourself, and to unashamedly BE yourself. I find that life as an empowered, thinking, articulate woman, can be a lonely journey, but I reckon that’s a small price to pay for sticking to your values, regardless of what everyone else around you says or does.

I have learnt to speak out against discrimination and be strong and comfortable as the only one in the group who feels that way. I’d rather say it than be assumed to be in agreement, through my silence. I always ask myself what the alternative is, and then I speak my truth.

I’ve learnt that certain people’s quest for power can turn them into strange creatures, and that you just have to be crystal clear about who you can and can’t trust. That’s all. Know your boundaries, don’t put up with shit, and know what you are prepared to be a part of and what you need to distance yourself from.

And, finally – you have to know what it is YOU need, to restore your balance, at the end of a day of working in an environment  that pulls you so far from yourself, that you fear you might forget who you  are. Know what restores your equilibrium, and claim your right to go there, to indulge in whatever it is, and to be absolutely fine with your choices.  For me, my go-to activities, for peace and tranquility, are playing my guitar, writing and reading. Also listening to music, and - of course -  dancing! 😉

Oh - one more thing: in the latter part of this year, I realised I have to make sure I make time to hang out with my friends, because life passes by so quickly, and before your know it, another year has gone. 

               View from Rhodes Memorial, a place I visited twice recently, after a few years.

To be perfectly honest - Written 5 Sept 2018

There’ve been three occasions when I’ve found myself at the crossroads with regard to my professional life. The first was in 1997, after I’d taken a voluntary severance package (‘’the package’’) from the Education Dept, the second was in 2006, when a business venture didn’t work out, and the third was in 2010, when I was retrenched from a language school.

On two of those occasions, I had sessions with life coaches. Each of them (there were two) gave me a lot of insight into myself, including a no-holds-barred look at my strengths and weaknesses. It’s not easy being told that what you consider a virtue is actually a liability, and is holding you back in life, and keeping you from realising your dreams. In my case, it is perfectionism. I often joke that being a perfectionist is time-consuming, but it’s true! And what it effectively does is keep you from moving forward.

Over the years, I’ve learnt, from my life coaches and from things I’ve read or encountered in Ted Talks, that perfectionism is a form of self-sabotage, and is often fear-based. What came as a surprise to me, the first time I was told this, was that I had a fear of success! I’d never even considered that a possibility!

Tonight I decided to think about choices I’d made that were not fear-based, but that were actually made as a complete departure from my default mode of perfectionism.

The best example is my music life. I took piano lessons as a child, and passed Grade 1. I was an okay student, and just loved music. Music made me happy, and was a huge part of my life, because my mom was an opera singer. In my teens, I started playing guitar, and discovered that that was my instrument. I’d always loved singing, and started playing guitar to accompany my singing. Over time, I went from teaching myself to taking lessons with different teachers, each of whom taught me a lot and inspired me to keep pursuing what I loved – making music.  I learnt a mixture of theory and practical, but never went further with my music grades.

Forty years later, I still sing and play my guitar – in fact I do so as a second job. Many people I work with don’t know I’m also a musician. So how does this end up being an example of not being a perfectionist? Basically, I’m working as a musician, but I don’t have the preferred background.  I haven’t studied music at university, I’m so definitely not on the A-list of musicians in Cape Town, and I’m so never going to be asked to perform at certain events in the city. 

But what do I do with my music? I entertain people (usually with covers of well-known songs), I perform my original material (usually at concerts) and I collaborate with other musicians.

Do I earn money from it? Not truckloads, but a bit.  Enough to top up my day-job earnings and make a difference to my household. 

 Does it make me happy? 

More than anyone could ever possibly know.

Wed 14 Nov 2018

As I sit in the sanctuary of my room, while the clock slowly edges towards midnight, I’m frustrated at all the things that prevent me from sticking to a routine. But my frustration goes way beyond that – I have that standing-at-the-edge-of-a-precipice feeling that warns me that, unless I turn around and choose a new path, the one I’m on will lead to my destruction.

I’m amazed at how much one can put up with before feeling that one has reached breaking point. I think humans are extremely resilient, and can find ways to mitigate the unacceptable, through things like creative pursuits, sports, or other pleasurable pastimes. We know how to work on restoring the balance we so badly crave. 

But the truth is, more people are diagnosed with depression and other mental health illnesses than ever before. Many of those people have to be institutionalised. A growing percentage of functional people with mental illnesses booking themselves into facilities occasionally, to find the peace and tranquillity they can’t find anywhere else. My way of expressing it is that everyone at some stage needs a ‘’soft landing’’. I’ve realised that the best friendships we have are with people who instinctively provide us with that soft landing.  

Right now, I have an exaggerated feeling of never having enough time, of people having unrealistic expectations of me, and of being overwhelmed.