SA's 4th wave of Covid-19 / Lockdown Day 619

Finally sitting down to type a blog post. I am an inconsistent blogger.

Again, I can’t believe we’re at this point in the year! I’ve been at home for three full months. So many lessons learnt, in that time.

One of the main lessons for me has been that distractions are a given, so if I want to achieve anything at all, I have to give that action/task a specific time slot; if I plan each day, scheduling both my activities and hobbies, I get through a lot and feel a huge sense of contentment. Essentially, I’m doing only what I love – including my part-time research job. Without a PLAN, though – I’m likely to be sucked right into the belly of the Procrastination Beast.  I need to be mindful of that every single day.

I’ve exercised consistently for the past 6 weeks, but this week I had to stay away from classes afer Monday and work out at home, because…… my daughter tested Covid positive again, so we’re both isolating. Because the tests are so expensive, my medical aid is used up for the year and the cheaper tests have a higher rate of inaccuracy, I’ve been vacillating about getting tested. However,  I’m off to have a test first thing tomorrow morning.  

South Africa’s Covid stats have risen dramatically over the past week, reaching over 16,000 new cases per day. However, considering how expensive the tests are and the level of economic hardship across our country, the actual figure could easily be 5 times the reported one. Interestingly, the daily Covid death rate hasn’t been as high as in previous waves. We have officially entered our 4^th Covid-19 wave, this time dominated by the newly-identified Omicron variant. Highly infectious, but not really causing severe symptoms. My family is vaccinated, so we’re less concerned about the severity, should we be infected. Still, no-one likes to be sick and NO-ONE likes to ISOLATE, so it basically sucks.

Speaking of sucking, right now we’re having LOADSHEDDING. I am so sick of some of the things we’re going through in this country!!! A few days ago, we had yet another fuel price increase, bringing our total increase for 2021 to 40%! Had we had a safe, reliable public transport system, I would’ve got rid of my car. Seriously, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I was without a car for just over two years, until I got this one in Feb 2016. In that time, I used what I’d previously spent on petrol on taxis. Right now, I’m spending four times my monthly petrol amount on my car instalment and insurance. Medical aid is unbelievably expensive, too.  When you’re in a job earning a monthly salary, you take these things in your stride. But I consciously stepped out of that comfort zone, and it’s a very different reality.

Despite all of that, I have no regrets about my 2021 choices.  I love my part-time job, I’m learning a lot, and it might lead to something else. I would love to be more musically active, as well, earning money from performing. Covid’s resurgence, with the inevitable result of people staying away from events, means putting that on hold. Again. I think I should find someone to help me with online sound, so that I can do online performances with good quality sound. Yes, I think I’ll do that. Performing with just my p.a. system and my laptop – not reliable, good quality sound at all.    

Two weeks ago, I did my first live gig since March 2020! A duo gig with guitarist Rudy Burns, it was at the Arabella Hotel, in Kleinmond, just over an hour out of Cape Town. We thought we were playing from 6 – 9pm, but ended up playing till 10. Needless to say, we loved it. When you’ve been playing for three hours, you’re so warmed up, that adding another hour is a pleasure. The place was gorgeous (I love experiencing new venues) and the gig fee decent, so all in all, it was a very good experience. Having said as much, if I were to play there again at night, I’d prefer to sleep over and not travel back so late.  It’s a beautiful drive, which I’d prefer to enjoy by day in both directions.

My daughter got her driving license about a month ago, so we’re sharing my car. Another new reality. 😊 She’s just finished her four years at college, so once she’s settled in a job, she can work towards getting her own wheels. 

Once again, I have to reiterate the cliché: The only constant in life is change.

There’s another exciting thing happening in our family, this month, but I’ll write about that in my next post.

And life - with all its hills and valleys – goes on. Despite some challenges, I am still extremely lucky and blessed.

                                  The beautiful Arabella Hotel, in Kleinmond (Google Images)

So much has changed / Written 05 Nov '21 / Lockdown Day 589

I’m always surprised when I see how long ago I last posted a blog, because I think about blogging all the time. I journal every single day, but it’s different from blogging. A lot more personal.

Wow – SO much has changed since I last wrote!

I left my job at the end of August, taking a voluntary severance package, without lining up a new job. At the time, I’d taken on some part-time online marking, which was a first for me. It proved to be a very interesting and enlightening experience. I was lucky enough to be kept busy with marking right until this week. I am grateful for the income. 

Looking at today’s date, I can’t believe it’s already been two full months that I’ve been at home.

The entire experience has been completely different to any other time of my life. Firstly, Old Trudy would never have left a job without having secured another. Had she done so, Old Trudy would have been super stressed, accepting the first offer that came her way, out of fear of not getting any others.

As it turns out, I am New Trudy, who does life differently. It was less of a plan than an evolution. Everything in my life up to now has moulded me and brought me to where I am, today. It sounds so obvious, but it’s extremely profound. In my case, it comes with an immense sense of acceptance of who I am, and peace – so much more peace than I thought possible, given the adversity I’ve dealt with, right up to this year.

Anyway… back to the job front. After extensive chats with someone I knew and trusted, I was offered an opportunity to co-write a funding proposal. Phase 1 was accepted, so I am currently engaged in research – also a new area for me, but absolutely fascinating. Beyond the research process, there might be another role for me. Time will tell.

So this is the New Trudy. Having turned 60 two months ago, I can’t help thinking about what it means to the world out there. To me, it’s an exciting and wonderful time of my life. Firstly, within the context of the Covid-19 pandemic, I am grateful to be alive, but even more so to be in good health, both physically and mentally. Having a mom afflicted with Alzheimer’s, I appreciate every day of my life that I wake up with all my mental faculties intact. Or, as my mother would say, having all your “varkies” (piglets). 😊

In terms of job prospects, I feel I have so much to offer and that the right situation for me will turn up. Old Trudy would have focussed on what she lacked, or the negatives about being 60.

I’ve managed to keep up my fitness regimen, and have recently started making healthier food choices, with a view to losing weight. I set a weekly goal to do three workouts and sometimes other arrangements get in the way, which frustrates me. Later today I’ll do a one-hour fitness class, which will bring my weekly total to three. On Sunday, I’m doing my first ever Sleekgeek event, a 5km walk. I can’t wait. It will be about 100 people, walking as part of a health and fitness movement, right next to the sea! I’m so excited! I joined this group in late 2017, I think, and have never been to any of their events. I’ve put the word out in our fitness group, so others in our group are also walking on Sunday.

I would love to build up my running, to do a 5km run sometime. I was hoping I could achieve it by the end of this year, but I think the end of January might be more realistic. There are 9 and 12 week programmes I’ve seen, which allegedly get you “from couch to 5km”. I’ll see. There are some things for which I set deadlines and others that I allow to flow more organically. I love the unhurriedness of most things in my life, now.

On the music front, I was delighted to have been offered a duo gig at a hotel. It’s in two weeks’ time, and I’ve been practising. This will be my first live gig since March 2020, before lockdown. It’s in a beautiful venue, overlooking the sea, and I’ll be playing with one of my favourite musicians, Rudy Burns. I cannot wait!!!   

                                  7 Nov 2021 -  Sleekgeek 5km walk - Sea Point Promenade

September thoughts / Lockdown Day 544

In 1983, I met someone on the beach, along with a lot of other swimmers who were part of the same Lifesaving club - Reece Redcliffe. We became good friends, spent a lot of time together and people assumed we had a romantic relationship. There was a time when we, ourselves, weren't quite sure what the nature of our relationship was. The truth is, we ruled out the romantic possibility very early on, but nobody believed us. :-) 

He made me laugh, he corrected my crawl swimming stroke (at Bellville swimming baths), he was one of the people I looked forward to seeing in my evening classes at UWC (1984) and he was just one of the nicest people I'd ever met. He honestly lit up my life. I spent time at his house and met his parents, who were very warm towards me. He always had a huge, beaming smile. I remember going to watch him play water polo. Everytime an opponent pushed him underwater, he bobbed up again, still grinning. :-) 

The universe gave me the gift of that friendship for only ten months, because Reece died tragically on 3 September 1984. I was sitting in a lecture hall at UWC, watching the door, to signal to him, because we always sat together. As usual, I was excited at the prospect of seeing him, but he didn't pitch. I smiled to myself as I figured he'd probably gone surfing. With Reece, when the North wind blew, he'd choose surfing over practically anything else. There were no cellphones then, or I would've texted him to say, "Bunking again, bliksem?!"

Later that night, a mutual friend called to tell me the awful news that Reece had died. At first I thought it had been a surfing accident, but learnt that it had been under very violent circumstances. That was 37 years ago, but I still remember how gutted I felt. A couple from the lifesaving club drove to my place, to sit with me. They were part of his world and, for the short time that he'd been my friend, part of mine too.   

I'll never forget a particular conversation we had, when he explained what surfing felt like. He'd been urging me to try it, but I was too scared. I asked him to describe it to me, and he said that I should imagine standing on a very slippery sheet of glass which was constantly moving under my feet at an immense speed. He tried to explain to me the thrill of being able to keep going, of trying to stay in control in such an unpredictable, rapidly-changing environment.     

Reece would've been 62, had he lived. He impacted on so many people's lives. At least one of his friends named his child after him. He loved people, he loved life, he lived with so much joy and intensity. September is my birthday month, so I always feel quite reflective this time of year. But it's also the month Reece died, just a week before my birthday. I often wonder what he'd have looked like, as he grew older. He would probably have kept surfing, studying and teaching. And being a goofy word nerd.  

I left my most recent job at the end of August. I journal every day, so I record what I do (it's just a habit, and one I love), but I often get the feeling that life is running away from me, pretty much the way Reece described the water moving, when you surf. 

I've been feeling scattered, recently, and when I do, I feel like I'm not achieving anything. I think the scatteredness comes from a lack of routine. I need a fair amount of routine, to function optimally. Without routine, even when I am achieving things, I feel like I'm not. Yet, when I read through my journal, I can see just how much I have in fact achieved in the last 21 days.

Another thing I need to bear in mind is this: the nature of what I'm doing now is very different to working in a full-time job, where you have your predictable set of tasks. What I'm doing now is what I set out to do this month - tie up loose ends, in various parts of my life. I need to find a new job (or jobs), but my time is my own right now (a feeling I love!), so I need to use it optimally, to do all those things I've either been putting off or that feel appropriate right now. 

And on the topic of achieving: I need to understand that THIS time of my life - i.e. between jobs - is about embracing a different pace, one that's completely different from that of working as a manager, in a company. Sleeping late means I'm resting more and taking care of myself - recharging my batteries. Taking recycling away means I'm clearing space at home and helping the planet. Getting my guitar repaired and serviced means I can enjoy playing again and steadily get myself performance-ready. 

Somewhere along the line, we internalise the belief that, in order to have value, we have to be achieving certain types of things. 

I'd like to think of this time of my life as a thin slice of retirement, before I re-enter the world of work, although I have a suspicion even that will look different to before. 

There's something exciting about not knowing what lies ahead. 

    

I Love New Beginnings / Lockdown Day 506

It’s 14h35 and I’m in my pyjamas, in bed. Is it a rainy day? No – it’s a beautiful sunny day. This is what I wanted to do today, so this is what I’m doing. I get up every now and then to make tea and grab a few biscuits, and then I get back into bed. I’m knitting and watching a series on Netflix. 

With 5 days left in my current job, I have one part-time job confirmed (work-from-home, yay!) and an interview this coming week. I have my preferred outcomes for the next few months, but I understand that flexibility’s important, too.

I’m finding this particular job-leaving process quite tough. I don’t think I realised how much my role encompassed until I had to do a hand-over to my successor. I suppose what the process is teaching me (and not a minute too soon) is how my skill set has grown. When I started, in 2016, I’d worked mainly in Education, even though I had done a range of jobs there and not just taught. Moving into corporate philanthropy was not just a job change, but a career change. I was 54 at the time and most of my previous colleagues were shocked that I’d leave the security of a permanent post in a state tertiary institution to enter a field I knew very little about.

Not only did I adapt, but I also realised how broad my range was and how eager I was to learn what I needed to, for my new job. After one and a half years as project coordinator of a non-profit company (The Delft Big Band NPC), my role was expanded to include managing the funding company’s CSI department, from receiving the applications to ensuring the payments were made and beneficiary reports received. I learnt a lot. I learnt all the time. I learnt from colleagues, in all positions. I particularly liked learning from people who liked sharing their knowledge. I learnt that not everyone does.  

It was the first time I’d worked within that kind of environment, where I had access to departments specialising in areas that were ancillary to mine, where I could meet with teams (like marketing and social media) and have them work on something that would enhance our department’s work. I have a lot of faith in collaborative work.

I learnt about events planning. Again, it's something that requires central coordination of people or teams that specialise in something. I’d done a certificate course in Public Relations, and I loved being able to use the knowledge gained there.

As I wrote in one of my previous posts, I love both structure and unpredictability. The happy medium is different for each of us. I like a job that has a fair amount of both. I get easily bored, but if there’s movement and change within the routines, that’s exciting to me. I can work on the same thing every day, but as long as I’m working towards a goal that will benefit others, I’m happy.

What I learnt, in this job, is that I like working behind the scenes to make things happen. I don’t need to be in the spotlight when the goal is achieved. I do like my hard work to be acknowledged, but it doesn’t need to be public. I love working towards an event, for example, coordinating behind the scenes, and then standing back on the day and seeing everything flow smoothly. Bliss!

I’ve learnt a lot about people, in this job. I’ve learnt about people whose words are always followed by action, and those who use words strategically, to create an impression, but never follow up. As I always say, people are people. It’s more important to me to know what I bring to any situation and to trust myself implicitly, because I know I can always rely on myself. In new situations, one eventually learns who is and isn’t reliable. It’s a process of elimination – just like life.

Even though I’ve made big changes in my life before, this time is decidedly different, and I’m steadily figuring out why.  What I do know is that there’s nothing negative about how I’m feeling. I feel like this is the most significant change I’ve ever made, because everything I’ve done up to now, in my 38 years of working, as well as in my personal life, has prepared me for this next chapter. I feel excited about finding the next context in which to make my contribution. I’m excited to play a role, as part of a multi-faceted team, in making a positive difference. I can’t wait!!

In my last 5 working days before I leave for my next adventure, I will be saying a lot of goodbyes. My daughter reminded me, the other day, that I hated goodbyes. She’s right, but they’re an inevitable part of life, and we can’t avoid them. We shouldn’t. To fully appreciate the profound joy of hellos, we have to know the pain of goodbyes. 

In every job I’ve had, I’ve made an impact and I’ve made friends. I’ve learnt and I’ve grown. I’ve shed certain habits and beliefs, and acquired others. I’ve used existing skills and acquired new ones. Every job I’ve had has opened up more of the world to me than before, growing my networks. That’s the beauty of change, of newness.

I am enormously excited about the world of possibilities just waiting for me.       

I love new beginnings!

                               My neighbour's mulberry tree's spring regrowth. 

Musing / Lockdown Day 499

This past week, everything's had an air of unusualness about it. Over the years, as I gained more self-awareness, I made peace with the fact that, coexisting happily alongside my free-spiritedness, was an equally strong need for routine. This week was practically devoid of routine, which left me feeling scattered.  

A crucial factor, for me, is how much say I have in the drawing up of my routine. I've learnt that, when I create the structure in which I operate, things work well. In the workplace, when I'm involved - or at least considered - in the decisions about my structure, things work well. The truth is that, when I operate within a structure that is internally determined, I experience a sense of flow. The opposite exists when I operate within an externally-imposed structure that makes no sense to me. What I've learnt, after affording myself the opportunity to work in a number of different jobs, is that I'm capable of adapting and tweaking my style to suit different contexts, within certain limits. I generally don't know what the limits are until I encounter them.

Because I love drawing up my own routines and experiencing the flow that comes with structure, I adapted to the work-from-home model with ease. I got up at the same time on work days, had breakfast, showered, washed my hair (habit - I do this every day), got dressed and went to the table I'd set up in the lounge, to do my day's work. I'd have virtual meetings there, and basically do everything from there, just as I would've at my desk at the office. I couldn't get out of certain habits I'd had for a long time, so I always applied make-up, especially on days with scheduled meetings.  My team and I continued to have our weekly meetings, a system which ensured communication and accountability.

This week has been all over the show. I'm leaving my job at the end of the month, so my main focus is on handing over to my successor. There were differing views as to how long this would take, from one meeting to a month. 

The main lesson I learnt, this week, was this: If I'm clear about my desired outcome, only I can ensure it happens; if I wait for others to share my vision and timeline, I'll be disappointed and frustrated. That was an excellent lesson to be reminded of, at this stage of my life. Taking a severance package cushions me for a short period of time, beyond which my household and I will experience hardship unless I find  a new job. I need to remain proactive, remove the drama and chaos from this transition period, and keep my eye fixed on my goals. 

I have two lists of things related to my hand-over - one professional and one personal. I've left places of employment before, and I believe in leaving on a good note. Life is too short for the alternative. When you reach my age, you understand that life loops and that people from your past re-enter your life at the most unexpected of times. I can't control what everyone thinks of me, but I can consciously stick to my standard of respectful and honest behaviour towards everyone I encounter, which gives me the peace of mind I need.

We've just started a long weekend, with Monday 9 August being National Women's Day in South Africa. After a few months of not having my mom stay at my place, I picked her up yesterday for the weekend. She lives with my sister, who's been her caregiver since the end of June 2012, when my mom could no longer live independently. 

My focus for the weekend will be on enjoying the time with my mom. I also need to keep working through my two lists, as well as continue with all my other responsibilities. My hobbies keep me connected to my essential self, so I find time to do my Trudy things, which I tick off on my daily habit tracker - the things from which I  derive a sense of balance. 

It's Day 499 of South Africa's Covid-related lockdown. We're experiencing our 3rd wave of Covid-19, with recent daily mortality stats exceeding 400, and sometimes 500. Almost every day, a Facebook friend posts about a loved one who's succumbed to the virus. It's tragic! What's even worse is how others continue to behave as though the pandemic's over, taking risks in both their personal and professional lives. And don't get me started on the anti-vaxers! Last year, before there was a vaccine, we feared it would take years to be developed. This year, we live in  a world that has multiple versions of the vaccine, I live in a country that is steadily vaccinating its population, and we have people staging a public protest against the existence of the virus and the illegitimacy of being expected to vaccinated.  I'm particularly disgusted at religious leaders who've wielded their influence beyond matters spiritual and convinced their followers that the vaccine should be spurned because it's somehow unholy. I just have to say it: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! 

Rant over. The point is, no matter what's happening in your life right now, we're all still living through a pandemic that has killed more than 4 million people around the world. And let's be clear - those are the reported Covid deaths. Statisticians have proof that the number of excess deaths, worldwide, suggest much higher Covid mortalities.  

I want to conclude with three things that I think are really important:

- Do whatever you can to help your country - and, by implication, the world - to get beyond a lockdown situation. In other words, get vaccinated and keep observing the safety protocols. If we all did so, we'd be able to steadily restore and rebuild.     

- Be compassionate, because no two people are experiencing this pandemic in the same way. You might be coping by pretending there is no pandemic, but you have no right to impose your denial on others. This is a time for flexibility - for exploring alternative ways of achieving outcomes. 

- We can't go back to how life used to be. The pandemic has brought into full view the extent of poverty and deprivation experienced by millions living in South Africa. And while smug, historically-privileged people are heard saying ignorant things like, "Well, everything's equal now, so if anyone in this county is poor, it's because they're just lazy!", the reasons for the status quo are clear to thinking people. We have a long road ahead. It's not going to be easy, but it's not impossible for our government to embark on a programme of rebuilding this country with a focus on eradicating the levels of unemployment and poverty we currently have. They've found money for lavish, unnecessary things - now they can find the money to implement a basic income grant of about R2,000  and to embark on public works programmes that will create sustainable jobs, to enable everyone in this country to live with dignity. 

And I might as well say it again, because this is my blog and I can write whatever I like - only with a system of Socialism will we sort this country out. One of the reasons our current government is failing is that it's still steeped in Captalism, with its focus on enriching the few while the millions starve. It's unsustainable. Capitalism always has been, and always will be, anti-poor. We can't maintain the current system and hope to eradicate  poverty. 

To mis-quote a line from my song, In The Shade of Table Mountain: "I somehow doubt it will happen in  my lifetime." 

                                              Covid-19 statistics for Friday 6 August 2021

Lockdown Day 491

Today, I'm grateful for the people in my life who respect me enough to listen to what I have to say, even when it differs from their views - as hard as it may be - and are invested in a peaceful solution, rather than in playing the blame game. 

Today, I'm grateful for people who know me well enough not to ascribe nefarious intentions where there are none. 

Today, I'm grateful to the people in my life who understand that life is not a competition and that if there's a misunderstanding, the mature thing to do is to engage as adults, and not to humiliate someone into doing what you think is the only possible solution.

Today, I'm grateful for people in my life who don't expect me to be their version of who I should be, but who are open to engaging with the me I actually am.

Peace  

                                                  Guavas from our tree, this winter. 

 

A day of pleasant surprises / Lockdown Day 489

Today turned out to be unbelievably special, with one pleasant surprise after the other. 

From shortly after we awoke, my daughter and I started getting good news. We'd both been waiting for responses from different parts of our lives and today was as though a plug had been pulled out, allowing all the uncertainty to wash down the drain. What a lovely feeling! 

We've been talking a lot, recently, about breaking out of our default way of thinking, which is to assume that amazing things happen to others, but not to us. We both have a tendency to put ourselves out there, but not expect positive results - insane, right?! It's like keeping a door locked and pulling on the handle with all your might, trying to open it. 

We've both been doing a lot of meditating and manifesting, focussing on shifting out of this pattern of behaviour, because it's really counter-productive. It makes no sense at all. What's the use of having goals, writing them down, doing years of preparation, and then not boldly putting yourself out there, where the opportunities are? 

I spent some time thinking about where I'd learned that behavior, and I know it's from my mother. And she probably learned it from her mother. I am by no means blaming anyone in my family for this. In fact, I believe the roots of this shrinking-violet behaviour are socio-political. My grandmother, one of thirteen children, was born in the early 1900s. Their family lived in a rural area and they were raised within a strict religious context. With both the teachings of the church and the constraints of their socio-economic conditions, I assume that the women were raised to be pious, obedient and to become adept at domestic chores. The only job I'm aware of that my grandmother had was that of the household cook for a Jewish family, the Blochs, in Gardens, Cape Town.  (The house is still there, and I've driven past it many times. I remember my mom taking us to visit the old lady who lived there, when I was a teenager.) 

My mother's high school education stopped when she was in Grade 9 (Standard 7), because she had to find a job, to contribute towards the household expenses. This is less common nowadays, but not that rare in working class families. She started out as a domestic worker, in the Bloch home. Her next job was in the printing industry. She and her sister, Helen,  worked in some type of assembly line. Throughout my mom's years of raising us, she had menial jobs. She worked at different printing companies, but there was also a time when she worked as a cashier at a supermarket. Despite that, we always had whatever we needed, for school, and I now understand how much she sacrificed for us.  

Because of my mother's talent and love for music, she also worked in the music world. In her prime, in her twenties, she was a leading opera singer, but none of the Coloured singers earned anything for their hours of rehearsals or any of their stage performances. Only the White orchestra members earned something. (I will refrain from editorialising on that, right now.) When we lived in Durban, my mom taught for a term at a teachers' training college, substituting for someone. Other music work she did, over the years, was singing in the ad hoc chorus of CAPAB (Cape Performing Arts Board), when they started accepting Coloureds, and working as a full-time chorus member for PACOFS (Performing Arts Council of the Orange Free State), based in Bloemfontein. She spent three years there, from age 57. That was where she bought herself a house, for the first time in her life. When she returned to Cape Town, she taught Voice Production for the Eoan Group (at the Joseph Stone Auditorium, in Athlone). 

So what is my point? The South African society into which my grandmother and mother were born, was racially segregated. Even though apartheid became a formal system only in 1948, my family was well aware of their second-class status in the country of their birth. When you are labelled "Non-White" in a segregated country where dissent is violently suppressed, you do everything you can not to be noticed. Imagine that kind of pressure on top of the other kinds of pressure on women to be invisible. If that's all you know, you don't end up being bold. You end up wanting to fade into the wallpaper. You're apologetic about the space you take up. I used to hate going to the supermarket with my mother, once I'd become politically aware, as a teen, because she would literally apologise her way through the aisles, giving way for everyone, even if she had the right of way. It was the most glaring example of how she had internalised the inferior status her oppressors had imposed on her, and it broke my heart. 

But - back to today and my main point. I am still learning to take up and claim my space unapologetically, and even though I've been outspoken about this while raising my children, it was - for many years - a case of "do as I say, not as I do". This was because I had spent the first 32 years of my life living under apartheid, with those same restrictions and prohibitions that my mother and her mother had lived under. 

I work, on a daily basis, on stepping into my power, being all I can be, living my truth - all those clichés - and I will never stop. My children have a different reality, including the benefit of many different influences, so they already approach life with a lot more confidence and clout than I've ever done. 

So..... today was a truly special day. Both my daughter and I had been waiting for responses to things we'd out out into the universe and had received good news. 

And the journey continues.

                                          My daughter, my mom and I - Dec 2020

   

Reputation / Lockdown Day 488

I've become - or have always been? - one of those people who have certain phrases that I say repeatedly, all based on certain views or beliefs. One of them is, "Reputation is everything". 

As life unfolds and I evolve into an older version of myself, with the hindsight of a life rich in experience, I find myself reflecting on these sayings and finding nuances that I hadn't before. 

I still believe that your reputation is something that you should think about, while you're living your life, because it has a way of becoming relevant when you least expect it. My new take on reputation is this: if I look back on how I've lived my life, the choices I've made, even the mistakes I've made, what's more important to me now is not so much what others think about me, but what I think about myself. Does my track record make me hold my head up high or hang my head in shame?

I'm not for one moment implying that I haven't done really stupid things and made really ill-considered decisions. On the contrary. But there definitely was a time when I started making better choices, listening to my inner voice and feeling brave enough to follow a path that wasn't dependent on the approval of my entire community. 

Sometimes we take a detour that feels right at the time, but further into the journey a new course needs to be considered. If it's not right for you, or you feel like there's been so much change that it's not enjoyable anymore, it's time to find a new path. 

I suppose what I'm trying to say - not very succinctly - is that MY opinion of who I am matters more to me now.  "Reputation is everything" now means "How I regard myself is everything". How does that factor into everyday life? It's important for me to evaluate how I'm living my life, every now and then, and to make fresh decisions that align my lived reality with my theory of who I am. 

                                   Full moon, from our backyard: June 2021

What Money Can't Buy / Lockdown Day 487

Sometimes, when I find myself stressing about money, I go through a mental exercise, where I focus on the things that make me happy that no amount of money could ever buy. It tilts the scales and brings me a sense of gratitude and peace.

For each of us, it would be a different list of things. Some lists may be longer than others, but we all have things that bring us a sense of all's-well-with-my-world that aren't dependent on money. I know that, when people experience the loss of a loved one, this is something that comes to mind. You're struck by the irrelevance of material things and you think about why acquiring them occupies so much of our lives, when all that really matters is loving people and enjoying the simpler things in life. 

Last night I was reading Brené Brown's book, "The Gifts of Imperfection", when I came across a section where she distinguishes between two types of goals - the usual ones, linked to achievements or  the acquisition of things, and another type, which she calls the "joy and meaning" goals. She encourages us to sit down with our loved ones and to write down our two lists. She says that, when she and her husband did this, they realised just how much they had to be thankful for.  

I'd like to end with a quote from the book:

"When we compared our dream list to our 'joy and meaning' list, we realised that by merely letting go of the list of things we want to accomplish and acquire, we would be actually living our dream - not striving to make it happen in the future, but living it right now. The things we were working toward did nothing in terms of making our life fuller. " (Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection) 

                                Part of a beautiful garden decoration, made by one of my cousins. 

Our Wolf Pack / Lockdown Day 486

My children and I have always been close. We've always been able to talk at length, listening to and supporting each other, with lots of love and laughter. My favourite people, for sure. My son's partner became a fourth member of this little group, and a few weeks ago we decided to formalise our ongoing sharing and cheering on of each other into our very own support group. We landed on a name and promptly renamed our WhatsApp group "Wolf Pack", from the book, Women Who Run with the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. (You might be surprised that this was not my suggestion, even though I love it.) 

We meet once a week, on the weekend, to chat. At the moment, our meetings are on Zoom, which is purely for practical purposes, while we're under lockdown. We thought the meetings would last an hour, but we stop when we've all said what we wanted to say, which sometimes takes three hours. And it's all ok. It works best when it's organic, flowing from the participants. 

In our first gathering, we started out by talking about our goals and where we currently were in relation to them - what our challenges were, what our fears were and what we felt the steps were to get to where we wanted to be. In our weekly Wolf Pack gatherings, we talk about what the past week has been like, what we've achieved, what we feel we could've done better, what we did not get around to doing, and what we've learnt. We also talk about what we have in mind for the week ahead. As we develop as a collective, we're also discussing interesting ways to preserve what we've spoken about and record recommendations (books, etc.)

We share a lot - habits that have helped us, tips for different things, podcasts, websites and YouTube links, as well as specific "motivational speakers" and Ted Talks we've found inspiring.

After our second gathering, I spent some time thinking about why I'm generally not a group person (anymore) and why I loved this group so much. I know exactly what it is. In practically every group situation, there's an element of competitiveness, which this group is completely devoid of. That was an epiphany for me. I've always thought of myself as a group/collective type of person, but I've been disillusioned by many groups. Since my epiphany, I've understood that the reason is that competitiveness - by either the whole group or one individual - has ruined previous experiences for me. 

Today we're having our fourth gathering, and I can't wait. It's not just about sharing your victories - it's a safe space to say that you haven't achieved what you thought you would, without being judged. I've also found that in every gathering so far someone has said something incidentally - not even a point that was being made - that has resonated strongly with at least one other person in the the group and helped them gain a new perspective on something. As artistic and creative people, we don't focus only on career goals, but also on our respective creative projects, which I find exciting and inspiring.

We share similar personalities and life views, which makes it easy to open up and be vulnerable. We also help each other get over feelings of fear and failure and to embrace the complexities of life. The only reason we can be this open, is that unquestionable trust exists among us. 

One of the most important aspects of this group is accountability. You are accountable to both yourself and the group; you have to do at least two things: show up every week and fully participate in the process - sharing openly, without reservation.   

Another essential element is respect. While all four of us are introverts and empaths, sensitive and creative, we're all different individuals, and this kind of collective can thrive only when those differences are respected.  

I love the feeling of being part of something that feels so right. I love the many possibilities that exist, for the group, and I especially love the growing group dynamic, within such a short space of time.  As someone who's extremely patient and who loves working on goals over a period of time, ticking off checklists and journalling throughout, I believe that this collective has the potential to walk interesting paths together and witness astounding results.  

Personally, I look forward to our last meeting of 2021, where we will have had six months of supporting each other in this way and where we can reflect on the process and appreciate the road we've travelled thus far, as a collective.  

I have no doubt that 2022 will present its own set of interesting issues for the Wolf Pack to tackle. 

Ahoooo! (That's my wolf howl. :-) ) 

                   

My July exercise stats / Lockdown Day 485

One of my goals is to exercise ten times a month. To people who go running once a day, that must sound pathetic, and to people who go to gym twice a day (yes.....), even more so.  

Anyway, this is about me. 

My year started off okay, with 9 in January. Then in Feb, it dropped to 5! I'd have to check my diary to see what was happening, but it could only have been a health issue, because the weather was divine and I loved working out with my trainer and jogging around the field. 

March and April were great, because I managed 10 in each of those. In May, I managed 9 and in June, only 8. I have to smile because I'm looking at the place in my journal where I record my monthly stats, and I see I pencilled in 10 at the start of July. :-) Today's the 24th and I've managed only ONE! 

What's been happening this month? Definitely health stuff. My daughter tested positive for Covid towards the end of June and we went into isolation for a while. Then I had to be tested and while waiting for the results, I didn't go out. Then I got sick, and decided to stay home.  I didn't get better and my doctor sent me for another Covid test. Both recent tests were negative. And that's what's been happening in July. 

Yes, I'm frustrated and annoyed that I've exercised only once so far in July, but life happens. Yes, it will affect my year's stats, but that is not a catastrophe. We're living through a pandemic - that's a catastrophe. 

It's been WAAAAAY too cold recently (our  coldest winter in ten years) for me to even miss going to the field, so when I do resume my exercising, I will do my workouts at home - a dance session, followed by a yoga cooldown. Yes! 

I've changed. Before, I would've been very down on myself, blaming myself for being a failure, etc. But life's too short for that. I've had almost a month of dealing with health issues in our household, it kept me from exercising and, as soon as I can, I'll resume.  

I look forward to steadily getting back to my exercise routine. I feel much better about every other part of my life when I exercise regularly. 

Something else that makes me feel okay about this month, despite the lack of exercise, is that I've continued to achieve other goals. It's important to me to have different projects and goals running concurrently. I've always been like this. 

                                                The field where I exercise. June 2021

Pot Plant / Lockdown Day 484

In December 2007, I started my two-week orientation for my new job at Eurocentres Cape Town, an English language school that was part of an international franchise. On my first day, one of my colleagues welcomed me with a pot plant. It was small and cute, and in a pottery container. It stayed on my desk until I left the job, in October 2010.  

I brought it home and put it outside, close to our door. It had become an outdoor plant, but still in its original pot. For years and years, I watered it, removed its old leaves and always felt excited when I saw a new leaf appearing. I have no idea what its name is - I should find out.    

A few years ago, I transferred it to a bigger pot and was fascinated by how quickly it started behaving like a bigger plant, growing impressively. But still I just kept on watering it, removing the old leaves and watching the new ones appear. 

It was only last year, during the first few months of lockdown, when gardening became one of the things we did more often, to stay sane, that I decided to transfer it to an even bigger pot, and to remove it from close to my door to the other pots in the garden.. 

You should see it now. I'm sure I have a picture somewhere, but I really should take a new one, because it's grown beyond my expectations.

That plant would always have looked like a tiny desk plant, if I'd left it in its original container. When I gave it more space, it flexed itself and showed me what it could be, in its new container. And now that it's in an even bigger pot, with deeper soil for its roots to flourish, it's growing like I would not have believed possible. 

I think we owe it to ourselves to change our contexts, every now and then, to see what we're capable of when given more space.

Stronger /Lockdown Day 483

It occurred to me, recently, that everytime I had overcome adversity, I had become stronger. Not only stronger, but more in touch with myself. Each challenge that I've encountered - and there've been many - has forced me to dig deep and find the strength I wasn't always sure I had. The more difficulties I overcame, the more I realised that resourcefulness was a skill honed by struggle. While I'm not romanticising the struggles that people go through, I feel that I've become better at coping with difficult things because of my previous experiences. 

Most importantly, I've learnt the following:

 - to be clear about who I am (and what I stand for)

- to accept that we're not all at the same point in our journeys 

- that when people underestimate me, it's actually not about me

- to be patient 

- to be fine with delayed gratification

- to trust myself

- to believe that there is always a solution

- to remain a person of integrity

- to give myself permission to feel crap on the days that I do

- to give myself permission to dream about a better future, no matter what the present is like

- that there's nothing as satisfying as moving on when the time's right 

- that I'm not afraid of change - in fact, as scary as it is, I love it

Oh, there are so many more I could list.  For what I'm going through right now, I had my Plan A, which was based on clarity I had repeatedly requested and been given. Now it's been turned into someone else's Plan A and a delay in my own plan. The sad thing is that, ultimately, when we treat people badly, like commodities, and we disrespect them just because the context we're in gives us the so-called power to do so, all we're doing is firmly closing any doors that would otherwise have remained open. 

I normally have a thing about not closing doors, but I've learnt, as my boundaries have improved, that some doors just aren't worth leaving ajar. 

                                                                 A selfie at a gig in 2016

I really should play more / Lockdown Day 482

I'm still reading Brené Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection, given to me as a birthday gift from my son, almost a year ago. It's not that the book is a difficult read - on the contrary, it's probably something you could read in a day - it's that I don't read enough. With my wool craft, I tend to sit down and watch movies/series, while knitting or crocheting. It's like losing myself in another world, after a day of dealing with life's peculiarities.  It's strange, because I love reading and whenever I do, I think about the fact that I could be doing so much more of it. 

I also have a problem in that I tend to be reading three books at the same time. Hmmmmm.... 

Anyway....  the chapter I started with, this morning, is entitled "Cultivating Play and Rest: Letting Go of Exhaustion as a Status Symbol and Productivity as Self-Worth". Wow! She talks about the importance of playing, just for the sake of it - to have fun, to do the opposite of what we think adults should always be doing, namely, achieving or succeeding. Interesting. 

I can relate to that. How many times have I said things like, "I wish I had more hours in a day", or "Life is so hectic!" It becomes a habit to say those things and to keep living that way, without realising we have a choice. You can break your day up into sections and start by controlling the parts that you can. Eventually, you can get even the crazy parts of the day to become less crazy. You can. And if you've tried everything and it still doesn't work, it might be time to place yourself in a new context.   

Something I've learnt about myself is that I'm really not interested in competing. If I'm in a group and a number of people are being loud and talkative, I become even quieter. I actually hate competitions. I would never enter a talent competition - not because I'm scared I'd lose, because it just feels so arbitrary and so dependent on the opinions of a handful of people, each with their own agenda (and ego). I actually hate all the television shows that turn everything into a competition, like cooking and designing, or whatever else they take the fun out of. My favourite cooking shows are the ones with Nadiya Hussain. She's delightful. And she has fun. I feel inspired and uplifted when I watch her. She makes me believe I can do anything I put my mind to. 

I've often been called an idealist, so I've often referred to myself in that way, too. The reason is that I don't aspire to what many others think one should aspire to. And they always have suggestions for what you should be doing with your skills, talents or interests. How about letting me choose? If I'm building up my fitness by running, why can't I run just because it makes me happy? If I play guitar and sing, why do I have to enter a competition for other people to tell me I am or am not good enough? Why can't we do things just for fun? I believe that's called playing. 

I think that being involved in the music world parallel to my full-time job was what enabled me to cope with the stress that I encountered in the workplace. I felt this when I was teaching, as well as in my current job, in corporate philanthropy. I also found it worked for me to compartmentalise - to keep the two parts of my life separate. Every now and then, the two worlds would intersect, but that was rare. It worked for me to keep them apart. I feel like my music identity is linked to something magical, which I don't want my day job to diminish in any way.   

Oh, I've just seen the message written at the beginning of the book, by Nick:

To my mother

for teaching me

the first songs I ever learnt

so that I could write mine 

and also for writing her own  

                                                             Thank you, Nick. ❤

Positive Outcomes / Lockdown Day 481

 One of the items in my daily habit tracker is "Meditate". On a good day, I do a guided meditation first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I started meditating last year, during lockdown, when I discovered a whole universe of guided meditations on YouTube.

I always used to think that, to meditate, you had to sit absolutely still, in silence, for at least an hour, which I couldn't really see myself doing. But with the YouTube meditations I do, I select ones that last 10 - 15 minutes. Seriously, that's enough for me, at this stage. 

This morning, I did a meditation on "Positive Outcomes", which was exactly what I needed. If you think about it, whenever we achieve a goal -  or even just move slightly closer to one - what usually precedes it is a positive thought, or a shift in attitude. In fact, the more that life throws my way and the more challenges I work through, the more I realise that one's attitude really does determine one's altitude (to use an over-used phrase). 

Doing a morning meditation sets the tone for my day. It gives me a perspective that I apply to whatever comes my way. 

Here are a few affirmations that came up in this morning's meditation:  

🌱 "I am willing to align my perception with that of positive outcomes."

🌱"I recognise that the choice is mine. I choose to see positive outcomes."

🌱 "Even when I'm not sure what they are, I trust in the vague sense that only positive outcomes are  possible."

🌱 "Only positive outcomes are real." 

🌱 "I am where I'm meant to be."

🌱 "I believe in positive outcomes."

**************************************************** 

Today, someone very special to me received disappointing news. I spent a lot of energy worrying about her - worrying how she was doing, worrying how the news had impacted on her day and how she'd move forward. Because I had done this meditation, I actually believed that the situation was exactly what it should be, and felt that, in time, this would become clear to all involved. To my delight, she spent some time processing the news and arrived at the same conclusion - that it was a blessing in disguise.  

*************************************************** 

Here's the link to the meditation: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBjXj7AwouY&ab_channel=GreatMeditation 

Peace 🐦

                                                      I found this image online. I really like it. 

Power / Lockdown Day 480

As usual, my thoughts are all over. 

Today I'm thinking about how people behave when they are in positions of power. The pattern seems to be the same, no matter if they're positions in a sports club, at a school, in a band, in a company or in government. The same goes for religious groupings and families. Some people seem to wield their power as though they're untouchable, like it's something they'll always have; they take decisions that have serious implications for people, not thinking beyond the immediate goal or how they can advance themselves. They go back on their previous statements and lie about what was originally said, manipulating narratives as a matter of course. In fact, they operate as though whoever they're addressing is stupid. They destroy any remaining vestiges of trust and credibility. They're secure within their power-hungry milieu and wield their authority with cut-throat impassivity. Most of them leave no space for you to ask questions or make a counter statement. You're expected to know that your opinion is of no consequence. 

Someone once explained to me the difference between power and authority. One was where only the person believed he had it and the other was about consensus, where everyone around the person viewed the person that way. I wish I could remember which was which - they seem interchangeable to me.     

And then there is the other extreme, where someone who has the power to make decisions that have huge implications for others' lives does so with compassion. This is a style with which I work well and which I have tried to emulate, whenever I've found myself in a leadership position. It speaks of a level of respect for everyone around you and a perspective that you are part of a collective, even though you're a leader.  You confer, you listen to others' input, you consider different perspectives. Yes, you still have to take the final decision, but your way of arriving at it is inclusive and with long-term sustainability in mind. Whenever I see someone shouting at someone else, especially in the workplace, I wonder, "Where do they go from there? How can that lapse in judgement, that disrespect, ever be undone?"  

People often assume that a compassionate leadership style is weaker and more likely to be found in women, but that's not necessarily true. In our society, women are encouraged to be more compassionate and caring, but there definitely are enlightened men who are capable of this style of interaction. And,  believe me, there are women leaders who fall into the first category. 

What I've discovered is that people whose sole focus is on pleasing their superiors, on scoring points, on being promoted or welcomed into the in-crowd,  are often incapable of showing empathy towards people on the lower rungs. I think that, somewhere along the line, they develop both tunnel vision and a thick skin, and it is this combination, as well as an infatuation with the trappings of success, that blinds them to the importance of keeping things real and of treating people like the precious beings they are.

Ever since I was a child, I've found myself in leadership positions. In recent years, my job has put me in a position of having to take difficult decisions and to communicate them to the people affected. People who were my superiors often accused me of being too soft, but the alternatives suggested, in most cases, were not what I could align myself with. I'd even request that my name be removed from a document, if I could not defend what was written in it. 

I come from a family of people who are good at language - that's a gift you have to use, whenever you can, to resolve things peacefully. I've raised my kids with this view, as well:  "You know enough language to say anything to anyone, without humiliating them or losing your dignity." Obviously, it's about a lot more than just language, but even so, it's a good place to start. 

And so, as I prepare to take my leave of my current place of employment and contemplate what lies ahead, I'm grateful for everything I've learnt in this company and excited about the next chapter of my life. 

If I have authorship of my life, as I believe I do, may I use my thoughts, words and actions to continue living a gentler alternative. Unapologetically.    

                                                Muizenberg Beach, June 2021

This Is My Journey

“I’ve found myself at the crossroads before. Somehow, I’ve always managed to find my way.” 

That’s how I ended my previous blog post, on 16 June.

Well, since then, I’ve made a life-altering decision. To many people, it will seem like a sudden decision, but it isn’t. For most of lockdown, I’ve had a feeling, on a very deep level, that something in my life was shifting. I didn’t know what, I didn’t know how it would manifest, but I knew that I’d recognise it when it came.

On the 3rd of June, we were informed that our company had entered a Section 189 process, by the end of which a certain number of employees would have been retrenched.  Since then, which is just over six weeks ago, I’ve been going through the different aspects of this process. It’s the same as any other big change in life, yet it’s unlike anything else. All three positions in my team were declared “redundant” and two new positions created, for which we were invited to apply. You can see how, despite it being a common corporate process, especially during the Covid-19 pandemic, it inherently hurts people. It breaks up people who were working as a collective and turns them into competitors.  

Once the facts had been presented to us, and we were each required to make a decision with far-reaching consequences, I found myself giving an instruction that was contrary to everything I’d ever told my team: make your decision as an individual; think of yourself, not your colleagues; do what’s right for you and your family.  Easier said than done, believe me.

On the 1st of July, I submitted my decision not to apply for either of the positions. Part of what happens in these situations is that not only are teams reduced in size, but the remaining/’new’ positions are offered at reduced salaries. This is another way in which it hurts people – you stay on, doing extra work because your team is smaller, but you earn less than you were before. You are basically required to choose between staying on and earning less, and being retrenched.  Not exactly win-win.

My decision gave rise to other processes within the company, which have not been resolved yet. Seventeen days after having submitted my decision, within the required time frame, I don’t have the clarity I thought I’d have by now. After five and a half years in the job, I will need time to do a proper hand-over. I had hoped it would happen in the next two weeks, but that hasn’t been confirmed yet.

Let’s just forget about the clinical side of this, for now – the process, the time frame, the many boxes  to be ticked. The personal impact is huge. Every day, I have to remind myself not to be in caretaker mode, making sure everyone else is ok, and to look after myself. I know the theory so well, but what has happened is that my health has taken a beating, in this time. I’ve even had to skip my first Covid vaccination appointment, because I’ve been feeling so sick.    

I’m at peace with my decision and am trying to disengage from the process emotionally, to survive the waiting, because certain things are beyond my control. I made the decision after much thought and, despite not having another permanent job lined up, I am sure I’m doing the right thing.

I’ve made big changes before – particularly with jobs and relationships – and understand that the transition period can be rocky. But this time I’m at a very different point in my life, having worked in Education (at different levels, in different capacities) for 29 years and in corporate philanthropy for five and a half years. Besides that, I’ve also worked part-time in the music industry for about 34 years,  been a mother for 26 years (and a single mother for 20 of those years), taken on various contract jobs, including radio presenting, been blogging for 12 years and have done some motivational speaking. The list is longer, but those are the most relevant, for now. 

Two months away from my 60^th birthday, I know myself better than I ever have, my boundaries are better than ever before and I have a much better understanding of how I’m supposed to live my life. I know what made me decide to leave my job and it’s that same set of guiding principles that will lead me to my next adventure. More than anything, I’m open to doing more than one job, in my quest to generate an income doing things that resonate with my soul.

So, yes – I’m standing at the crossroads again, but I’m excited about the future and the many possibilities that lie ahead.  I keep thinking of a little song I wrote last year, for a podcast series:

This is my journey

The road ahead, the road behind

This is my journey

Who knows what I’ll find

This is my journey

Who knows what I’ll find

     I took this photo in our area, a few days ago. Rainbows always fill me with hope. (July 2021)

Youth Day / Section 189 / Lockdown Day 447

Like many people who were teenagers in 1976, when school children in Soweto, engaged in an anti-apartheid protest on 16 June, were gunned down by police, I have mixed feelings about today.

I was in Grade 9 (known as “Standard 7”) at the time, at Harold Cressy High School. I think that was the first time I’d heard the word “solidarity”. The news of this horrendous incident spread and we were informed that schools across the country would be protesting, in solidarity with the Soweto learners and the greater struggle. Before 1994, the day was known as Soweto Day, and was not a public holiday. In 1994, it became one of the post-apartheid public holidays and was renamed Youth Day. Looking at the decisions made in that time of transition, I can see how much was done in the spirit of reconciliation, but today I have to wonder why so many compromises were made, whether it was worth it, and whether it’s the reason our country’s in the mess it is today. Even renaming it Youth Day takes away the essence of the day. When I hear what some young people think the day is about, I have a dilemma: should I give them a quick history lesson, or be impressed by their fresh take on the significance of the day?

While the issues plaguing South African youth today are not the same as they were in 1976 (today’s youth having been born in post-apartheid South Africa), I think it’s crucial that they at least know the history of the day and see themselves as part of the broader story. While foreign visitors to our country rave about the world-class roads, hotels, game lodges and shopping centres, the lived reality of most South Africans is completely different.  That was how “township tours” started – people living in those Third World conditions wanted foreigners to get the full picture, as well as to distribute their extravagant spend more widely. I worked in the TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) industry for a total of 10 years, in which time I encountered foreigners who welcomed the opportunity to visit townships, as well as those who felt it was intrusive and inappropriate.

*****************************************

On a more personal note, I am using today as a much-needed Trudy Day. I need a break from the stress of my job, right now, and today’s a perfect breathing opportunity.

The company I work for has embarked on a process known as “Section 189” (of the Labour Relations Act), which is essentially retrenching staff whose posts have been declared redundant, as a cost-saving strategy. That’s the clinical explanation. To the “staff”, namely the PEOPLE, it’s a lot more devastating. Each employee received the first letter, informing us that the process had begun, what the steps were and by when it would be completed. Each of us received the news with our own set of personal fears, linked to our own circumstances, as well as to the dire employment situation and economic crisis in our country. For people who have working partners, it’s a little less frightening, because there’s at least another household income. For people who have parents able to support them, there’s that safety net.

For me, as I wait for this axe to fall, I can hardly breathe.  I feel like I’m drowning. My employment contract expires when I turn 65, which was reassuring, until about three weeks ago. However, I’ve lived through enough – including retrenchment, in October 2010 – to know that even permanent contracts aren’t permanent. As long as you’re working FOR someone else, you’re at the mercy of other people’s decisions. As someone who essentially believes that socialism is the only system that effectively respects and cares for the needs and rights of every citizen, I’m once again feeling the sting of being a tiny cog in the gigantic capitalist machine.

And as the theory turns into an actual friend calling me and telling me she's leaving, my heart knows it can’t avoid breaking over and over again. As an empath, I can’t tell the difference between your pain and mine. It’s exhausting, to say the least.  It takes all the strength I have (sounds like the lyrics of “I will survive”) to keep getting up each day and going through the demands of the job, all the time knowing that I could receive that second letter, which would change my life and that of my daughter’s in ways that the decision makers would never take responsibility for.  

The last time I was retrenched, I was 49. After two years of taking short contract jobs, I returned to the government education sector, teaching at a high school for five months, then lecturing at a college for three years. And then I left the civil service - for the third time. 😊   

This time, I’m three months away from my 60^th birthday. Personally, it’s a good time of life for me – I feel more at peace with who I am than ever before, and I’ve sorted out a lot of things, as my  experiences have given me new insights and perspectives. I’m consciously looking after my health and am fitter than I’ve been in a long time. It’s strange - to put it mildly – to feel this much at peace with who I am and simultaneously feel the dread of a tidal wave possibly landing on me.

Everything I believe in tells me to keep a positive attitude, that there are other opportunities out there, that I have skills that are needed in this country, that my children are adults, so I could finally consider working abroad, that the universe has always shown me my next path, that I’ll be ok, that I’ll be ok, that I’ll be ok…..

And so I get up every morning, I do my morning things, I arrive at my workplace – usually my lounge, as I’ve been working from home under lockdown – and I work. I have virtual meetings, I send emails, I have discussions on the phone, I check in on my team’s progress and offer guidance where necessary, I respond to requests from the public, and I report to my superiors. When a new project comes up, I draw up a plan, assign roles and do my part, including keeping the working document updated. At the end of my working day, I get up from the table and the rest of my life happens.

For my mental and physical health, I exercise three times a week, I drink lots of water, I eat fruit and salad daily, I meditate, I do Mind Power, I stay in touch with a few people on similar journeys and avoid toxicity wherever possible. I’ve also become busy with my crafting, so I’m always working on something. Interestingly, all the recent blankets and beanies have been sold, so that hobby’s become a small income generator. I also love writing, so I’ve been writing little chapters about the music side of my life and posting a new chapter on my Facebook musician page every fortnight since early May.  

I’m singing in a virtual concert on Sat 26 June, so I’ve been making time to sit with my guitar every day, singing through some of my compositions. Music has always been one of the things keeping me grounded.   

You know that feeling of things being beyond your control? That’s where I’m at in my job. In the rest of my life, I’ll keep focussing on what I can control, I’ll keep working with my habit tracker, and I’ll keep believing that – no matter what happens during this round of retrenchment – I’ll be ok.

I’ve found myself at the crossroads before. Somehow, I’ve always managed to find my way.  

Two Things On My Mind Today (Lockdown Day 425)

I want to write about two things, today.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about situations I’ve stayed in long after I should’ve left. One always sees the full picture in hindsight, but there are definitely situations where you know, without a doubt, that you should leave, but you don’t.

There seems to be a pattern, whether it’s a romantic relationship, a platonic friendship, a working relationship, a job or a membership of some kind of club or organisation. The pattern is that you observe or experience something that doesn’t feel quite right, but, because you like everything else about the person, job or group, you dismiss it. Then you experience another thing that you don’t feel you can align yourself with, but again, you brush it off, because there are so many other aspects you really enjoy. As more and more things happen that go against the grain of who you are, you speak out and try to sort things out, so that you can feel the joy you used to. But your attempts at sorting things out are met with a reaction that alienates you, and, depending on where you are on your journey, you decide to either leave or give the situation the benefit of the doubt. Most of us stay, but the problem just gets worse. You keep speaking out, but you never succeed at achieving the clearing of the air or the peace of mind you’re seeking. And still, you stay. You remember how wonderful it was when it all started and cling to a belief that it can be that way again. You know the choices you made at the time, the sacrifices you made, in order to be with this person or in this job, or to become a member of this organisation/club. You vividly recall the excitement of that new beginning, and you stay, believing, despite all indications to the contrary, that somehow this is still right for you.

Over time, as your feeling of discord overwhelms your feeling that all’s well, you start to see things with greater clarity and you know that, by staying, you are settling for the consolation prize and that you owe it to yourself to make a clean break. When the situation is a marriage, it’s a lot more complex, because serious consideration has to be given to the impact on the children and to the financial ramifications of splitting up. Many women say they stayed in their marriages two years after they’d realised there wasn’t a bright future within the marriage. What do they do for those two years? Speaking from experience, I’d say they blame themselves and try everything they can, to make things better. Until they exhaust their possibilities and the ugly truth stares them in the face wherever they look. It’s over. Get the hell out, if you want to salvage your sanity and your happiness.   

At certain times of your life, cutting ties and walking away is harder. Some resign themselves to a life lived at half mast, a life of going through the motions, a life of unfulfilled expectations, potential and dreams. It makes me sad when I encounter people – usually women – who are in this state of hollowness, of dull eyes, of no spark, of abject alienation from their formerly vibrant and powerful selves. In a room full of people, loneliness is still their only companion.   

So, yes – I’ve been thinking about times in my life when I’ve stayed too long, as well as the times I’ve found the courage to leave.

                                                                      May 2021                                               

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The other thing I want to write about is freedom. More specifically, how I feel when I’m running.  Now that our winter’s here (technically still autumn for another 6 days), it’s dark by the time my fitness training session ends. Because I enjoy running, my coach lets me run on the field for the final part of the session. Others who don’t want to run can end their session doing other exercises. We also run earlier in the hour-long session, just after the warm-up. But my favourite feeling is running alone, in the cool evening air, on a rather dark field. There are other people on the field at the time and enough lights on the perimeter - including a clubhouse/restaurant that’s well-lit – for me to feel safe. Every South African, especially the women, would know what a rare thing this is, in our country. Women do not walk or run alone, especially at night. It’s just too dangerous. It breaks my heart to think of how women have been forced to shrink our lives, in order to stay alive. 

I don’t train every day, but am working towards a long-term, sustainable routine of thrice a week. This feels doable for me. The minute I try for daily sessions, life happens, I have to skip a session and then I feel frustrated. So, three times a week is a realistic goal for me.

But, back to the running. I am very much a beginner, after having stopped running more than ten years ago. In the hour-long sessions, in which we do a variety of strengthening and aerobic exercises, including boxing, I fit in anything from 1,2km (once around the field is 400m) to 3,2km. When I go to the field on my own, over a weekend, I do at least 4,4km. At this stage, there’s still some walking, as I’m steadily building up my running fitness. 

But, I digress. This is not about distance or time. I wanted to write about how I feel. So here goes: no matter how shit my day's been - no matter who’s pissed me off or undermined me, underestimated me, talked down to me, or taken credit for my ideas – when I run, everything’s right with my world. As I said, I’m a beginner, but I remember running for an hour at a time, when I was younger and fitter, and I understand those people who choose to start each day with a run. I get it. I totally get it.

When I run, I feel the freedom of childhood – that sense of running with joy, with arms and legs doing their own thing, without any thought of what you look like. Sometimes children make funny sounds when they run, as they uninhibitedly give in to their bodies. I feel the freedom every woman should feel, wherever she is, at any time of day. I feel the freedom that every human being has a right to feel, regardless of geographic location, "ethnicity", socio-economic situation, religion, sexual preference, etc.

When I run, I feel more switched on and alive than I do at any other time of my life. It's a beautiful meeting of the physical and the spiritual. It's a celebration of life and survival, and a delightful act of rebellion against everything that tries to box us in and cut off our oxygen. Fuck, it's an incredible feeling!

Today was not a training day for me, but tomorrow is. I look forward to running around that field more than anyone could ever understand.   

I cannot wait!

                                                    With coach Grant Cyster, in Jan 2021.