Checking in, early in 2019

I have three hours on my hands.

Who am I?

Trudy Rushin

Where am I?

Sitting in my car, in Granger Bay, watching the sea.

How am I?

Filled with excitement about the year ahead, with its new energies. I love the feeling of starting a year feeling a little wiser and clearer, based on the previous year’s experiences and lessons. I feel ready for the twists and turns that will inevitably arise. More than that, I feel readier than ever to step out of my comfort zone and push my boundaries.

Why am I?

I must admit, this answer comes down to two things, and I’ve decided they are enough:

1.    I choose to stay alive, for my children. I gave birth to them, I love them and I live my life with as much peace, gratitude and - most importantly – authenticity as I can, to give them a glimpse of what’s possible.

2.    My other reason for living is that I made this choice long ago: “I’m alive, so I might as well be very alive.”’ I have an insatiable curiosity about what lies ahead, and that’s why I refuse to give up, even when faced with circumstances that feel hopeless. If I do decide to give up on something, it’s always to move on to something else. I will never ever give up on life.    

 

                                                             Granger Bay, Sat 19/01/19

If the past two weeks are anything to go by, 2019 is going to be a year of intense and surprising experiences. Last week alone, I had three experiences which were really, really intense, and I thought to myself, “Fuuuuuuuck! We’re not even halfway through the first month, and this is what's already come my way!!’’  

I’m teaching myself to reflect on life regularly – daily, ideally – so that I don’t have a backlog of issues to deal with. I want to deal with things and dispel any uncomfortable energy as soon as possible, because the next episode could easily take place the next day, and you’ve not dealt with the previous day’s crap yet.

What I have also decided – and I love the clarity I feel on this – is that I will learn the lessons, no matter what. Two of my encounters last week were difficult conversations with people I’d known for a long time, which revealed aspects of them that took me by surprise. The issues were so fundamental to my value system, that those encounters may actually have caused permanent damage to those relationships.

Something I first read about in “Women Who Run With The Wolves”, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, is what she calls the ''Life-Death-Life cycle''. Coming to terms with this concept has equipped me with the emotional tools to handle the many forms of death we encounter, including the death of relationships. The truth is that there’s always life afterwards, no matter how hard the loss is and how profoundly debilitating the grief may be – there’s always life afterwards. When precious relationships come to an end, for one reason or another, I allow myself to go through all the stages of grief necessary, and I look forward to the tranquility that eventually comes. Because it always does. Eventually.

One of the things I will no longer do is make excuses for people who don’t deserve my support; I’d rather remain silent than speak in favour of someone undeserving.

So in one week, two people who’d been in my heart for many years, let me down very badly. I spoke my truth, I invited further engagement and all I encountered was an inflexible, brick-wall response. I then processed the feelings in my thoughts and in my writing, and I reached a point of clarity and peace. It’s not my job to change people who refuse to acknowledge that they’re being closed-minded. They can continue being closed-minded, but without me in their lives. And life goes on. I have a lot to look forward to, and looking back is not on my agenda.

The third experience was being part of a group of women who got together to have a baby shower for the wife of a man who’d been the trusted handyman of a friend, Patrick Johannes, who’d recently died. What made the gathering so intense (read, profound and moving) was that Patrick had been savagely murdered by intruders, in the very room in which we gathered. For most of us, it was the first time we’d entered the house since his death, and being there was strange, to say the least. Most of us had never met the mother-to-be before, but the impact of our gesture, on her and her husband, warmed our hearts. At least this experience, while qualifying as intense, was a positive one. I met a few women of substance I’d never met before, and it was Patrick who had brought us together, even after his death. Thanks to Michele for initiating the whole thing.

Naturally, the conversation drifted from one thing to another, including Patrick’s colourful and compassionate life, and his brutal, tragic and untimely death. I found myself being supported emotionally by people I’d never met before. How weird and wonderful. I was struck by the power in that space, that feeling of ‘’this is so right’’, but also by the irony of meeting to celebrate a person yet to be born, in the home of a beloved friend who was now dead.

It’s the 19^th of January. There are 345 more days in this year! Wow! What can I say about the rest of 2019? Bring it on!

                                            Another pic of Granger Bay, 19/01/19