Reflecting on 2024

It's 10 days before the end of the year. I've been contemplating this reflection for a while, but once again, I don't know where to start. 2024 - Woah!! Shoo! 

There are a few big things that happened, to make 2024 stand out for me, but I think the most significant parts of this year happened internally - awarenesses gained, lessons learnt, patterns broken and new practices started. Would I call it a successful year? It depends on the criteria.  

So, here goes - my immediate thoughts about 2024.

1. EMPLOYMENT

I had full-time employment for the entire year, which was a blessing after what had happened in 2023. In case you don't know my story, I was employed by College of Cape Town for the first 6 months of 2023, but was not paid for that entire period. Every month we taught (adults doing matric), submitted our time sheets, and believed the matter was being addressed.  Why did we keep on teaching? Our students had paid, and we were preparing them for their mid-year matric exams, which would have significant consequences in their lives. Also, we were working through the desired channels to try to sort it out, not knowing we'd be stonewalled and still be waiting more than a year later. The ramifications of that situation informed the choices I made in 2024 (more about that later), and I'm sad to say that that matter has not yet been resolved: seven educators are still awaiting payment of tens of thousands of rand for teaching from January to June 2023.  

I've been thinking: surely College of Cape Town has to undergo an annual financial audit, to continue to function as a legitimate entity? How do you pass such an audit if you haven't paid your staff?  

Another BIG question, to which no-one at Head Office had the decency to reply, is this: If the programme we taught was self-funding, meaning our salaries came from fees paid by the students we taught, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MONEY THE +- 300 STUDENTS PAID? How can a college RUN a programme, and not be held ACCOUNTABLE for the rands and cents of that programme? The lack of morality shocks me. But, as long as the leadership does not have to answer for its actions, this corruption will continue. It will end, though. 

Anyway, I digress. The point was that I had full-time employment for the entire year, for which I am grateful. There is something honourable about delivering a service (in my case, teaching) and being paid for it, as per the contract. It's a dignified, honourable thing, giving you a sense of security, and enabling you to plan your life. It's an arrangement of mutual respect, and of integrity. HEAR THAT, COLLEGE OF CAPE TOWN? INTEGRITY! 

2. A FULL YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL

Being employed is one thing. Being back in the high school system is quite another!  I last taught at a high school in 2012! Looking back at the year, I can now see that I needed this year to orientate myself back into the ins and outs of high school teaching. A lot has changed, and a lot has not. The bottom line is that people are people. Teenagers who were born in the 2000s - some as recently as 2010 - are still teens, going through the same developmental stages we went through. I had the privilege of teaching English - my favourite subject - as well as Life Orientation, a subject I grew to enjoy.  

Teaching a total of ten classes, without having my own classroom, was a baptism of fire, but I survived. Proposed changes in the year ahead suggest that I will have a very different experience in 2025. Time will tell.

I am lucky to be teaching at a well-organised school, with principled, competent leadership providing the necessary structures and resources for the smooth functioning of the day-to-day activities.  The children are interesting, and I think I found a way to fit in on the staff (as one of the newbies). 

I could honestly write a book about this year at school, but the purpose of this blog post is to give a broad overview of the year. It was a challenging year, in some respects, and sometimes I doubted I would make it. I had to learn MANY lessons, in order to acclimate and pace myself.

3. FRIENDSHIPS

I am a loner, and I thrive when left to my own devices. I've always known that, but haven't always felt free to say it out loud. Now I know it's not a negative thing - it's just a personality type. But this year taught me (again) that I also have a need for good friends. In my personal life, I enjoyed my old and newish friendships, completely comfortable with the fact that my friends aren't necessarily each other's friends. It was the friendships I formed at school that were a pleasant surprise. When you see people every day, and go through various experiences (deadlines!!) with them, you're bound to form bonds. I found myself connecting with people I sat close to in the staffroom, as well as colleagues in the two departments in which I taught. But beyond that, I just found that there were really cool people at the school, most of whom encouraged and inspired me, answered my many questions, and were just nice to work with. I enjoyed doing little collaborative things with colleagues, whenever possible, because I inevitably got to know them better, which made school a really pleasant place to go to every day.  

In my personal life, friendships evolved, and I feel incredibly blessed to have a small, interesting circle of people in my life who add so much colour, texture and nuance to my sometimes-monochromatic world. 

3. MOVING HOUSE

(I'm tired, now, and losing focus. A few external distractions have pulled my attention from my writing, and I feel like the cloud of magic I need in order to write is evaporating.)

In June, I moved house - a life-altering step. My daughter had moved out in November, which left me living alone in a 3-bedroomed house. People suggested I share the space, but that was the last thing I wanted. My home is my sanctuary, and I wasn't ready to give up my privacy by sharing the house I'd lived in with my family for 27 years. I looked around for a two-bedroomed place to rent, but nothing I looked at fulfilled all my requirements. In the end, I moved into the granny flat on the same premises. It was a massive change, because my new space consisted of a bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom - no lounge, and no study/spare room for my many, many things related to my teaching, my music, my crafting and my tutoring (which I still do, part-time).  I did whatever was required (sold, gave away and stored stuff), and started my new life. 

Six months later, in fact two days ago, I reorganised my space which had just not been working for me, and NOW I finally feel comfortable. I still have things in storage, and I have to deal with what comes next - do I move again soon, or should I get rid of things?  So, how does all of this this relate to what happened with College of Cape Town? In the six months that I was not paid, I ran into debt, as I was not able to honour my commitments without an income. Moving into a much smaller place freed up some income, enabling me to get on top of my debt. Yup - and this is the sanitised version of how that experience messed up our lives.  The struggle continues. 

I'm tired. I'll write soon. 

The bottom line is that, in most respects, 2024 was better than 2023, and I firmly believe that 2025 will be even better.  

And life goes on.    

                                    With my children, at Clay Café in Hout Bay, in November. 

  

A seven-day patchwork quilt

Yesterday, I didn't know how to handle the end of October heat. Then last night, it stormed, and I needed another blanket on my bed. This is Cape Town - even though I've lived here most of my life, I'm still fascinated by the sudden changes in weather. Yesterday, I planned what I would wear to a gig today, and last night I realised that Plan B might be needed. 

I say 'sudden', but the truth is we have weather forecasts that give us adequate warning. We just find ourselves believing,  despite all the evidence to the contrary, that 'the weather man' may have got it wrong this time. Weird how we still say 'the weather 'man',  despite many women working in that field. Patriarchal language patterns.  

I read my previous post, a few minutes ago, and I'm glad I did. Something happened this week that was the equivalent of a slap in the face with a wet cloth, but when I zoom out of the particulars of that one tiny pocket of my life, all I'm left with is gratitude - deep, perspective-filled gratitude. Something no-one can take away from me. No matter what, I still have the capacity to step back from the minutiae, take a philosophical view of things, process my emotions through journalling, learn the lesson, and feel excited about life and what lies ahead, including the unknown. I think that's how I've got through the things I have. I'm irrepressible. I'm that cork that just won't sink to the bottom of the glass of water. You may press it down temporarily, but as soon as you release the pressure, it pops right up to the surface. I'm basically a child, but with 63 years of perspective.  

I know for a fact, though, that I would function more effectively, and feel less rushed, if I had a day to myself after each day. My life would consist of one day of normal life, followed by one day of me on my own, choosing to fill my hours with whatever made my soul do cartwheels of joy. Yes - I think that's my ideal. Of course, I'd like to have cartwheels of joy 24/7.... or, maybe not. Sameness of any kind soon bores me. What I would absolutely LOVE is 24/7 of choosing, though. Yes - it's the times of my life where I get to choose, and not simply follow orders, or try to convince my rainbow palette that monochrome is not that bad, that I feel my spirit glowing. Right now, the ratio of glow to no-glow is not good. But this has been my challenge for a long time. I don't even know if I want to believe in reincarnation, because the thought of coming back and struggling through another lifetime just wears me out. Maybe one life is enough, and the special assignment is to make it really count.    

This week was a seven-day patchwork quilt. On Sunday my son visited me, with lunch that he had cooked especially for us. We spent a few hours together, talking about lots of things, including my eventual retirement - at this stage, still a few years off. That was really wholesome, and I appreciated his maturity on the matter. Both my children are deep thinkers, gifted with many things, including acute perception, compassion, and the ability to communicate sensitively and appropriately. I was happy to have begun that important discussion, and I'm proud that this generation is comfortable with having the hard conversations, and approaching the less glamorous side of life with a practicality that cuts out the drama. When an older person's health changes suddenly, and you haven't prepared as a family, it can go horribly wrong, with misunderstandings and the blame game ruining relationships. 

Things at school are intense, as November exams start soon, so we're all finalising question papers and memos, and making sure all the relevant boxes are ticked.  That's the easy part. The people issues are the hard part - the part I often wish I could avoid. But this is life - unless you're a hermit, you're going to have to deal with the messiness of inter-personal relationships. If you're in a social setting, you can't avoid it. In my personal life, I have a small, carefully selected group of people with whom I sometimes spend my discretionary time. They know, and completely understand, that I often prefer solitude. They also know that when we do spend time together, it's good. We don't pressurise each other, we communicate with honesty, respect and integrity, and we know we can depend on each other 100%. I am DEEPLY grateful to have friends like them. I don't take them for granted. But that's in my personal life. Thank God I have a life outside of my job!      

On Thursday evening, I had a rehearsal with guitarist Rudy Burns, for a gig we're doing today. A 70th birthday party. Oh, wow! Playing and singing beautiful songs for hours.... let's just say it more than balanced out the unpleasant energies of the week. It reminded me who I was. Everything else becomes peripheral. After blogging, I'm going to start getting ready. I like to take my time and ease into the head and heart space of being a performer. As a child, I'd watch my mom get ready for her performances, and I loved how she'd let me play with her costume jewelry, some of which had belonged to her mother. I remember the smell of her skin lotion - Oil of Olay - as well as the hairspray. I loved watching her transformation, as she changed from Mummy to May Abrahamse, the opera singer.    

On Wednesday, after the ugly incident at work, I needed to do something physical to work through my emotions, so I washed my car! I hadn't washed it since I moved house, in June!!! It looked great, but the inside was a mess. I wasn't angry enough to be a martyr, though, so the next day I got someone to clean it for me. I now have a clean car, inside and out, and it feels good. (I couldn't find the new chamois I'd bought, on the day I washed my car, but I found it yesterday when looking for something else! )

On Friday, our Stitch Club at school (in existence since Term 2) had its final meeting for the year. We had a little party, which magically included some unexpected live music! Made my day! If I'm still at that school next year, I have some plans for the club. If not, I hope someone else keeps it going. The kids (and I) loved our weekly gatherings, where we could escape the frenzy of school life, and just quietly play with yarn, learning basic techniques, and creating little items. It was a particular highlight for me - Stitch Club. I'm super proud of the kids who turned out to be the regulars, pitching up with their good energy and their big, bright smiles, week after week.

I stayed late after school, on a few days, which impacted my evenings, but it's that time of year, as I said. On Friday, though, I came straight home, exhausted and in much need of solitude. I enjoyed a relaxing evening, which filled my tanks a bit. Yesterday was a day of housework, with schoolwork taking up my evening. I find it difficult to focus in the heat of the day, so evenings work better for me.   

Which brings me to today - the storm has abated, the sun's out, and I can see some patches of blue sky. It's not a warm day, though, and I suspect it might rain again, so I'll see what ye olde wardrobe yields. 

This afternoon, I will enjoy singing and playing my guitar, alongside one of the best guitarists I know - someone with loads of experience, a huge repertoire across genres, and a level of mastery that leaves me speechless. What a privilege to make music with him. I will appreciate the blessing of being able to add to the birthday celebration of someone who's reached the milestone of 70 years. This family has hired our duo twice before, so it's extra special; they know us, and they chose us again. It's a good feeling. I'm really excited. The demands of my day job have left me with very little time to immerse myself in music, like I used to before. But the tide seems to be turning. Next week, I have two events at which I'm doing a few items. Thank you, universe. 

I have so much to look forward to.  And yes, I sometimes end sentences with prepositions. It's how I  rebel. :-)  

                    I took this from the driveway at home, on 13 October 2024. I love moody skies. 
   

Gratitude - 26 Sept 2024

Right now, I want to write about how deeply grateful I am. Sometimes, because life often keeps one focussed on what's not going well, I need to remind myself to spend a few moments allowing feelings of gratitude to flood my being. A ritual I started, a few months ago, was setting a daily alarm for 11:11,  as a reminder to have a short gratitude session. 

It started when I realised that my attention was coincidentally being drawn to my phone at 11:11 for a few days in a row. I'd heard that it was a special number, so seeing it always made me smile. On days it didn't happen, I was really disappointed. I decided that, instead of hoping I'd see it, I would make sure I did, by setting an alarm. And this is what I do every day. Sometimes I'm teaching when it goes off. While I'm switching it off, I mentally go through  a few things I'm grateful for. I've told my students about it.    

I won't lie - at the start of this short school holiday, I was filled with the physical and psychological tension of the previous term, and feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. Bear in mind that I'm working in a system I last worked in twelve years ago. Since then, I've lectured in the college sector, worked in the corporate sector, done some research for an NPO, and taught matric English to adults. 

But here I am -  teaching at a high school once again.  

I am grateful that I have a job, and all that it makes possible. It's at a well-run school, close to where I live, it's in my field of qualification, and I'm teaching two subjects I thoroughly enjoy. I have some really cool colleagues, and I enjoy my time with the children - in both groups, I have encountered amazing people who've added something to my life, in one way or another. Unlike at some places where I've worked, this school's salary payment system is reliable, which gives me stability and peace of mind, enabling me to plan my budget and honour my commitments.   

I'm grateful for my family: my mom, my children and their partners, my sister and her family, and all my cousins and second cousins, near and far.  My children, now adults, are the most precious people in my life. I regard them as a blessing, and give thanks for them every day.  

I'm grateful for my friends - some I see often, many I don't. Some I'm in regular contact with, and others, not. I have a handful of close friends who know what's happening in my life, and who're there for me, in my corner. I love them and am very lucky to have them in my life. 

I'm grateful for my home. It's tiny, it's been my home for only three months, I couldn't fit all my things in here, but it's home. I can close my door and have the privacy and solitude I so enjoy. There's a garden outside, with trees, which gives me a sense of calm and peace.     

I'm grateful for my car, which I've had for eight years; it affords me my freedom and my independence.  

I'm grateful for so many things - being able to play a guitar and write and sing songs, being able to knit and crochet, creating all kinds of pretty and functional things. I'm extremely grateful for my health and the things it makes possible.

I'm grateful that I never give up. I'm grateful that meditation gives me a sense of perspective on my life, with the clarity and patience I need, when I need them most.  

I'm grateful that, when life sends me yet another difficult set of circumstances, I'm able to draw on my previous experiences and somehow manage to wade through the tough parts and survive.

I'm grateful that I've reached a level of maturity where I know for sure that life is not a competition, and that all I need to be is myself, regardless of who does or does not like me. I'm grateful that deep down I know I'll be okay, no matter what.  

I'm grateful for choices I've made, and for my current lifestyle, While it may be simple and frugal, without the trappings people might expect me to have,  I actually have everything I need. 

For all of the above, and so much more, I can only be absolutely and utterly grateful.  

  

The lull after the storm - Sept 2024

There is a period during every school term that is so stressful, I fear I might collapse from exhaustion – the weeks we spend marking the term’s assessments.  Fortunately, the term has ended and we're on a much-needed break. As usual, I have a list of what I want to achieve during this holiday, but, given that it's just ten days long, I'll keep an open mind.  

Stepping back and looking at my current lifestyle, I have to be honest - that much-desired balance, which I've sometimes come fairly close to attaining, is nowhere in sight. My job has taken over my life, and I've had to relegate what makes me happy to the sidelines. I seldom have the time or energy to pursue my hobbies. Only I know whether this is sustainable or not. Only I can decide on the nature of the changes I need. I'll use this short break to process things and commit to a course of action. One way or the other, something’s got to change.

Speaking of change, I've been living in my flatlet for three months, now.  Some things have worked out well, and others not. On the one hand, my landlord has made some changes, to make the space more efficient, which I really appreciate. On the other, my fibre company no longer offered my original package, so I'm paying more than I used to. For now, I’ll leave things as they are. When I get my next wave of energy to tackle non-urgent things, I’ll attend to that matter. 

I've realised that one of my coping mechanisms is to deal with urgent matters, and to keep lists of the other things, with a view to getting around to them when I can. And I find myself getting really annoyed with people who press me for things that are not urgent. I will get around to those when I can.  

I also find that my methodical way of doing things generally takes longer than the time allocated, and I’m constantly running out of time. I’m a process person, and not a rush-to-the-finish-line person, and the world shouts at me to be the latter. In order to cope, I constantly re-evaluate choices that don’t work out, and try new ways of doing things. Right now, I’m doing what feels like the most workable for me. I sometimes get criticised for my methods, but quite honestly, when I get advice from someone whose own methods don’t inspire me, I simply stick to my own.

At some stage, I had a work-play balance that satisfied me. Having personal time outside of my work time - to be with my family, to crochet, play music, dance, and occasionally see a friend socially – gave me a sense of “all’s right with my world”.  As a creative person, that fuels me. I need discretionary time, in which to make authentic choices. The more discretionary time I have, the higher my level of creative output. The more time I spend plodding through externally imposed responsibilities, the less creative I am, the less I feel like myself, and the less effective I am at everything I do.

So, as I spend the second day of my holiday catching up with housework, as well as finally getting down to crocheting (I’ve missed it!!!!), I already know that these ten days are going to fly by, and that I need to prioritise what’s important to me. I have a few unfinished craft projects to attend to, and I actually want to reorganise the furniture in my flatlet – something’s still not working. It’s only during a school break that I can do justice to this type of thing.

Music

I’ve done a few once-off performances, recently – at a panel discussion on our new government’s gender policies, and at a screening of a short documentary on forced removals in Cape Town, which was a District Six Museum initiative.  

The music season has started, and I have two definite gigs booked. I really miss being musically active. There were some years I did over 50 gigs.      

A few days ago, after all my marking was done, I got involved in a short-term music project which I was invited to. I’m not allowed to give details yet, but I will do in future. Really exciting. Stepping out of my comfort zone.

Nature

As our seasons change from the starkness of winter to the softness and colourfulness of spring, there’s so much to photograph. I’ll take pics whenever possible. Nature is, as usual, one of my biggest sources of inspiration.

The other day, someone sent me an article entitled, Nature is not God. I didn’t read it. I’m not interested in religious views that focus on the one-upmanship of who’s going to heaven and who’s not, by virtue of the randomness of the family you’re born into. In fact, I strongly reject that. I’m also sick of the inherent Islamophobia that is part of that package. If you don’t see yourself as part of humankind, but a privileged sub-sector destined for an after-life promised to a select few, we definitely don't have the same view of spirituality. Different WhatsApp group.   

When I think of how much of this blog post I ended up censoring, I can see I'm not the Trudy I want to be, right now.   

Time will tell. 

Downsizing

On Monday 17 June, the day after my last blog post, my daughter came over and helped me pack up my bedroom - in which I'd been sleeping for just over 27 years - leaving only my bed and a few items I'd need overnight. That night, I slept in my bedroom for the last time. The next day, with the help of someone else, I moved my bed to the granny flat on the same premises, which is my new home. I moved from a three-bedroom house to a flatlet with one bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom.  

Because I was moving to such a small space (hadn't found what I was looking for, within my budget), I'd planned to rent an Airbnb one weekend a month, so that I could still spend time with my mom, but shortly after I moved, my sister (who takes care of my mom) told me that my mom's days of sleeping away from home were over. It was a change that I had not seen coming, and it hit me hard. Driving home, after hearing the news, I bawled my eyes out. It felt unreal that my last weekend with my mom had in fact been my last weekend with her. No more weekends with my mom. 

Sometimes, the pain I experience from certain energies feels like it will literally break my heart, but I remind myself that I've overcome things before and that I will be okay. I have to focus on what's within my control. Compartmentalising has always helped me, so that's what I did, and will continue to do. It's a coping mechanism. We all have our ways.

I packed up most of the house on my own. On two days, I had different pairs of men help me move furniture and boxes. Unpacking cupboards, some of which I hadn't opened in years, was intense! I was proud of myself for finally getting rid of essays I'd done while at university, decades ago. Oh, and also my children's laminated kindergarten paintings and drawings!  And so much more!

My challenge now is to keep the place clutter-free. Right now, it's about 90% organised, and I'll keep doing little bits whenever I can, until it looks like I want it to.  Items in both the bedroom and the kitchen are taking up floor space, and I look forward to having them packed or given away. I got rid of some furniture and other items along the way, which was a relief. Still have a few more to sell or give away.

So now that I've been sleeping here for five weeks, how do I feel? I feel good. My daughter moved out in November last year, so I'd been living alone for eight months. While it was my familiar space, the longer I lived there on my own, the clearer it became that it was too big for me, and that the time to move had arrived.    

                                                                                                                 

My goals for moving were to downsize my life, including my expenditure. I'd also been thinking that, if I didn't get rid of all the unnecessary items, I'd be leaving that awful job for my children, when I died. 

During the move, which took me two weeks, I'd send updates - including photos - to my close friends. Those pics now tell the story of my move.

It was interesting how many people pointed out to me where moving home featured on the list of major life stressors for adults.  Believe me, I knew! I was living it!

Every now and then, I'd lose motivation and feel really sorry for myself. My adult children were working, and weren't able to be around as much as we'd thought, initially.  I'd feel so overwhelmed, that I couldn't think properly! I actually needed a second person around to help me think! I got tired of deciding on the fate of various items on my own. I wanted someone to help me decide - someone less emotionally attached to items in the house. One day I sent a message to my children, reaching out because it had all become too much. In the weeks preceding the move, I'd been dealing with work-related stress, and on some days moving felt like the last straw. The day I sent the message, my daughter-in-law called me and we had a good chat. I felt so much better afterwards - less overwhelmed. My daughter kept track of how the move was going, and I made sure I stayed in touch with both kids.

I also have a few close friends who messaged me regularly to find out how I was coping. One of my cousins, who lives abroad, also wanted regular updates. Their messages meant a lot to me. Moving house is not a one-person thing. You actually need a team. 

So here I am. I can feel a distinct energy shift. A good shift. Making a move this big is life-altering. I believe that, when you eventually make a change you've been postponing for ages, it becomes a catalyst for other changes. You perceive yourself differently, and you look at life differently.  I feel different. 

There are obvious adjustments, like having a lot less space in which to move around and put my things, but also a new awareness of habits and behaviours I need to adopt, to make small-space living work. The most important one is that I can't be untidy. Everything has to go into its designated place, or the place looks messy and I might actually trip over things. Ask me how I found this out! :-)

Generally, I'm settled in, but am still figuring out clever ways to maximise my space. A very interesting experience. Loads of ideas online. Right now, I'm going to stay here and call this home. I don't know what the future holds. Once my employment situation for 2025 is clear, I'll review. What I do know is that, as long as I'm teaching, I can move only during a school holiday, and preferably not a short one. Which means June or December. Moving during winter isn't good for me, I discovered. I don't feel at my best during the cold months, so I'd rather move during summer, given the choice.  We'll see. We'll see.     

We seem to be having one of the most severe winters ever, which is adding to my restlessness. I want warmth, I want sunshine, I want my laundry to get dry on the same day I hang it on the line! 

It's been a lot. Life moves so fast, that I often don't get to catch my breath between big energy impacts or shifts. I need that - more and more. I need life to slow down. 

I've resumed some of my daily habits that I'd started neglecting, around the time my marking load took over my life. That was in May. It's almost August. 

Waiting for that dull moment. 

                        The kitchen of my new place, with a guava tree right outside the window. //July 2024
  

A big change, during a school holiday

There's a special feeling that comes over me when I blog. If I think about it, it's the feeling I get whenever I'm not confined, not restricted to following rules I had no part in making. It's freedom. Freedom to be who I am, without having to qualify, justify, or apologise. It's a powerfully felt freedom set against the backdrop of apartheid and the patriarchy. In its much broader frame, it's freedom within the contexts of slavery and colonialism.  On a smaller scale, but entirely related to the other forms of oppression, it's freedom from the confines of the outdated, hierarchical system all around us, including the world of employment. 

The longer I live, and the more I open myself to new experiences, the more I observe and am able to draw conclusions. In various microcosms of society, I see the patterns. I see how people who are afraid to be who they are situate themselves in positions of power, for the security of having long-established rules to follow and - more importantly - to enforce on others. Depending on the integrity of the situation, the people in power may not even see the necessity of following the rules themselves.  

What I do see, in various contexts, is the skewed way in which society values individuals. Your title and  material possessions seem to win the day, in this topsy-turvy world, Not only that - your title, and the assumptions based on it, will put you in the running for similar or even better titles. And so your nebulous reputation, based solely on what you allege you are, and the extent to which others buy into that allegation, wins the day. At this stage of my life, I find it hard to imagine a single sector of society where this does not prevail. Am I cynical? Of course. I've seen too much not to be. You know what's even worse? It's when the people who can make a difference, by addressing the impropriety, choose not to. Many people in power prioritise being liked, which is a major flaw. 

I learnt long ago that being a leader entails some difficult aspects, which means you have to risk unpopularity. More than once, in different leadership roles, I have had to have uncomfortable conversations with people. In middle management positions, I have been tasked with imparting difficult information (e.g. verbal/written warnings) to staff, which have given rise to my being vilified, while protecting my superiors from the same.  In all instances, including those in which I have been involved in the decision to address an awkward matter, I have proceeded with diplomacy and directness, so as not to leave the other party confused as to the matter at hand. A lot depends on the recipient. If you're unprepared to self-reflect, any feedback, no matter how appropriately given, will be perceived as an attack, and refuted. My point of departure is to think about how I would like to receive such feedback, and to choose my words carefully. I also know that there are people who react so strongly, that if you're not a person of conviction, you might feel like you're at fault, and retract what you've said. I've been around long enough to see the red flags and stand my ground.  All I know is that, through feedback given to me in the correct way, I have learnt lessons I wouldn't otherwise have. And I'll always be grateful to those people for handling things the way they did. 

School broke up two days ago, bringing Term 2 to an end. Despite this almost-one-month-long break, I know it will be hard to get rid of the tension that the past term put into my body. I will try, though. High school teaching is unbelievably complex and stressful. I don't know how my colleagues have managed to sustain their decades-long careers. South Africa is still very much in the shadow of its apartheid past, so schools that were formerly for Whites only (now open to anyone who can afford them) have superior facilities and a much better pupil-teacher ratio. The poorer the community in which the school is, the harsher the conditions, for both the teachers and the students. And this is thirty years after apartheid ended.  If you teach fewer than twenty-five students in a class, you have a timetable that affords you enough time to do your non-teaching work, you have all the gadgets that money can buy, you have excellent admin and other support, you have beautifully manicured school grounds with trees under which students can sit during their breaks, you have extra-mural activities in which students may add to their skillsets and grow other aspects of their personalities. you earn a salary on which you can live comfortably, etc etc, that's very different to the experience of the majority of South African teachers. 

Anyway, I wanted to talk about this school holiday. I am moving house! I won't go into detail right now, but suffice it to say that I've been living in the same house for 27 years and 4 months, and I am about to pack up all these years of memories, and move. The intense emotions around this move have made me delay starting this big job. The other thing that delayed me was the amount of personal time my job takes up, which leaves me with energy for nothing else. For example, my last solo session was ten months ago!  Ouch! Music is my favourite thing in the world! 

So - unless the blogging bug bites sooner, the next time I'll blog will be from my new space. Once I'm there, I'll explain in more detail. It's possible, at this stage, that I'll move during this school break and again in three months' time. Like most things in my life, it's a long story.   

Yesterday, I got up earlier than I normally would on Day 1 of my school holiday, and  went for a walk by the ocean with a friend I've known since we were six years old. He's on a brief visit from Oz. The universe sent me a sign, while I was there, reassuring me that, despite my trepidation about the next two weeks, everything would be just fine: a pod of dolphins frolicking, not too far from where we were. The sighting was like a metaphor for how I tend to approach life - I saw the first fin, and said, "Oh my word, I think I've just seen a shark!" We looked more closely and I realised that, not only had it been a dolphin, but that there were quite a few of them - a total delight to the senses! 

May I proceed through the next chapter of my life trusting that the fins I see aren't (necessarily) those of sharks, but are probably those of dolphins, my favourite animals.  

I left my phone in the car, so no pics of yesterday, but here's one of a recent sunset from my current driveway. 

Thirty minutes of this 'n that

Timer set, and here I go. Random rantings.

I realised, recently, that I have a pattern of feeling shame for things that were not caused by me. The part that makes it so much harder is that I carry that shame for years, even after the source is no longer an aspect of my life. In some weird way, it remains with me. I suppose that's how shame works. And we don't realise how much of it we carry around. And, if we don't deal with it and shake it - or at least some of it - off, it will bleed into other parts of our lives. 

I know that one of my earliest experiences of this was my father's drinking. Because the effects were so visible (he was never aggressive or violent, though), there was no way to hide the issue. At some stage, when I reached the age of visiting school friends' homes, I know I felt some shame about our socio-economic status. Random comments made affected me profoundly. Interestingly, it didn't turn me into a highly materialistic person, but made me feel strong empathy towards people who don't have much. 

In my adult life, there were things about my longer-term partners that I took on as my shame. It took me a while, each time, to separate the issues and liberate myself.  Having had the ability to leave unhealthy situations in the past - even though I often stayed too long - gives me confidence that I can do so again, if necessary. What I've noticed is that, as I've got to know myself better, I've learnt to detect the warning signs much sooner, and often find myself making exit plans long before anyone's even aware that I'm unhappy. When you're young, you're far less able to spot the aberrations, because you actually need to live life, to know life. These days, when I experience an energy from younger adults which is about mocking older people, I think... just you wait; life is going to knock you so much harder than you think possible and when you open your eyes, you'll be 60, and younger people will be treating you like you're obsolete.

Bu back to my topic of feeling shame for things I didn't cause. In 2023, I worked, for the first six months of the year, without being paid by my employer, College of Cape Town. It seemed like it would be sorted out the next month, then the next month, etc. It seemed like an admin slip up, until it became clear it was so much bigger than that. Every month, I borrowed money to survive, and every month, I  carried on teaching adults doing their matric, and I religiously submitted my timesheets, but no payment was made. Skip to the present, where we (7 of us) have not been paid yet, and the college leadership has dug in its heels in a display of arrogance unbefitting an educational institution in a democratic South Africa. I've put my energy into surviving, and not into fighting the powers that be, although I know I can't delay that much longer. The financial complications that I'm living with make me want to scream, and again - I didn't cause this! I don't even think I'll write about my current reality. Suffice it to say that the non-payment of six months of my hard-earned income caused me serious harm. It affected so much more than just my finances. And to sort out the ramifications will take years. It angers me that I'm the one left feeling the shame for what my life's like, right now. It shouldn't be this way. 

I WILL sort this out, and I WILL keep working on shaking off the shame for things I didn't cause. 

Thirty minutes. 

                                       Taken in Sea Point, sometime last year. 

The significance of May

May Day. Labour Day. Now known, in post-apartheid South Africa, as Workers' Day - although the apostrophe is commonly placed before the 's', making it singular. Weird. Anyway, it ends up being a much-appreciated day off from school. I'm relaxing this morning, then seeing both of my kids today - a real treat! (I'll have to do some schoolwork at some stage.)  

May - the fifth month of the year, and the second in the second quarter.

May - a modal auxiliary verb, signifying permission: You may begin. 

May - a modal auxiliary verb, signifying possibility: It may rain tomorrow. 

May - My mother's birth month, as well as her name. She was the single biggest influence in my life and on who I am today. Our relationship has changed, since her Alzheimer's diagnosis, twelve years ago, and that's the saddest part of my life. My mom turns 94 on 6 May ("God sparing", as she would say) and I miss the way we used to laugh together and talk about everything under the sun. For most of my life, she was my go-to person, my role model, and my anchor.  She understood me like no-one else could. You miss that when you don't have it anymore. You're constantly having to justify yourself to others. So I keep my circle small, because she taught me that I was enough.

🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕    

Looking at my 2024 blogging history, it looks like I might just get around to blogging once a month. My March post is still in draft form, though. That means I either ran out of time or had second thoughts about posting on a particular topic. When a colleague in my current job heard that I blogged, she cautioned me about my content, alerting me to the fact that the broader school community, including the children (high school students) might access it. I think about it every now and then, and yes, I have become more circumspect - but the blogging I've done since 2009 stands as is. I've always written with the awareness that my blog would outlive me and that it could end up being the autobiography I'd never got around to writing. Society already censors me - the patriarchy tries to mute me 😂- and my natural discretion ensures I don't spill my guts on things that should ideally not be made public. But I do enjoy writing on this platform. Is it self-indulgent? Of course - unashamedly so! :-) It's my blog. In every other part of my life, I have to engage in some measure of restraint, colouring between the lines, so as not to be seen as too different, not standing out too much. 

Despite the self-censorship I referred to earlier, I give myself permission, in my blogging, to do the stream-of-consciousness stuff that my daily life squeezes out of me. Needless to say, I do so without  restraint in my personal journalling. I also draw flowers, in colour, on every journal page. In a previous post, I shared pics of my daily appointment diary, of how I'd started drawing flowers on every page there, as well. In essence, I operate in an often-monochromatic world that needs me to fill in numbers on Excel sheets, while my soul craves music and colour - so I insert the music and colour wherever and whenever I can.

CRAFTING - STARTING A CLUB AT SCHOOL

As you know, crocheting is one of my hobbies, and I'm always in the process of making something or other. In my previous post, written early in April, I mentioned wanting to teach children to crochet. Well, guess what? I got the opportunity to start a Stitch Club at our school, last month, and we're on our way! I have a colleague who's teaching the knitting, and I'm overseeing the crocheting. But the most exciting part is seeing the students who can already knit and crochet teaching the newbies. I want to make sure, though, that they also learn and grow in the group, and experience the satisfaction of making something they've never made before. So, yes - that's a new and exciting energy in my life, and I'm over the moon about it. I love the timing, because exams start in a few weeks, and children need as many creative outlets as possible, when studying. Taking a study break shouldn't be just scrolling through social media. It's good to stimulate your brain in different ways, with texture, colour and repetitive movement. I believe this club will grow in beautiful ways. I want to wear handmade items to school, to be a walking example of what's possible.

CRAFTING - KNIT AND NATTER

In our adult craft club, Knit and Natter, I'm almost done with the joining of granny squares of different sizes, as part of our current group project. I'm doing half a blanket, my cousin's doing the other half in the same style but with a different palette, and we'll be joining the two halves soon. This is the first time I've done this type of collaboration. Last year, our very first project was similar, but a lot less detailed - each one in the group made as many squares as possible, the same size, but different colours and patterns, and some were knitted and others crocheted. We stitched them together to make two cosy blankets, and donated them to the 67 Blankets for Mandela annual blanket drive. I've learnt a few new techniques, in the course of this project, which is always fun. I've also realised that everytime I learn a new technique in crocheting, that's all I want to do. It happened with the corner-to-corner blanket, as well as with the teddies. Now I'm hooked (so to speak) on granny squares.   

                             My half of the blanket for this year's 67 Blankets for Mandela. 
 

MUSIC

My public music life has had to take a backseat for a while, but this is how life goes. It ebbs and flows. One of the most important lessons I've learnt is to be mindful of my energy and how I expend it. Performing in public takes a lot of energy. And it's not just when you're on stage - it's for the rehearsal phase, as well. Ideally, performers should always be in rehearsal phase, in one form or another, and always as close to performance-ready as possible. When you're gigging regularly, you build up a gig-fitness that you take for granted. When you're performing infrequently,  as I am now, you need the discipline to stay well-rehearsed, or you lose your edge. I've been struggling with that, since I started this job (at the end of August last year). 

About two weeks ago, I set up my P.A. system, and whenever I have a few minutes (at least 30!), I plug in my guitar and sing a few songs. I try to do a combo of originals and covers, because a gig could crop up at short notice and I want to be ready. Besides the gig-readiness, it's my favourite thing to do - play my guitar and sing. I could lose myself in it for a long time, but with my current teaching workload, which consumes most of my private time, I'm constantly aware of how little time I can actually spend making music. One day the scales will tip again, and I'll restore the balance I crave.        

But for now ~ I'll do what I can, when I can, with what I have, and bear the bigger picture in mind. In many ways, I am very lucky. 

I still do the many affirmations that have got me through difficult times, at different stages of my life, including this one: When I live my truth, the universe supports me.

         

New energy

It's only when Cape Town gets its vicious wind that I remember just how much it freaks me out. Especially at night. Right now, that kind of wind is blowing, carrying the threat of a storm so big, the radio stations have been broadcasting warnings for at least two days.

And life goes on. 

I returned to school last Wednesday, after our 13-day school holiday. I must admit, the day before school reopened, I felt like I'd achieved nothing in the 13 days, which was ridiculous for many reasons. Not only had I done a lot of crocheting - for our craft group's current project - but I'd also spent days doing schoolwork, in preparation for the term ahead. What I hadn't realised, until I actually got to school and started the new term, was that I had undergone a significant change. It's not visible to anyone, but I feel it strongly. 

Without going into too much detail, I'll just say that the first term of this year was challenging for me. But it turned out to be yet another example of life teaching me, as it's done so many times before, that some lessons can only be learnt the hard way. Every day of my holiday, I spent time journalling: I used the time to process my emotions that seemed to be all over the place, to methodically plan how I could avoid a repeat of the first term, and to find my centre again. By the time I went to bed, the night before school reopened, I was 100% ready, and quite excited about going back. Bear in mind that this is the most stability I've had, job-wise, since my retrenchment from a private-sector job in 2021. Returning to school, to start the second of four terms, was a big deal. I got into bed feeling ready, excited and sleepy,

But, as tired as I was, I could not fall asleep.  I used to have that kind of experience often, in my 20s. And it usually coincided with the Full Moon! I've since heard about many others who experience the same thing. I lay awake, I tossed and turned, I meditated, I did Mind Power exercises, I did a visualisation exercise, but sleep would not come. The last time I looked at the clock was 02h30. I knew that when my alarm went off, the next morning at 05h15, I'd feel inside out. And I did. And that's how I went to school - prepared for all my lessons, as well as an after-school meeting, but oh so inside out. By 5pm, I could hardly keep my eyes open. 

What's really cool is that I realised, over the past three days at school, that I had in fact gone back with my balance restored. I had learnt the lessons I was meant to, I had reminded myself who I was and what I was capable of, and I felt a new spring in my step. Thank you, Universe, for the lessons learnt. 

I haven't done much in the line of music, for a while, because of the demands of my teaching job. There's no sugar-coating it - it's a highly stressful job that consumes your private time as well. Very different to my part-time adult education job and worlds away from my job in the corporate sector. Most days, I come home from school, relax for an hour, then start my next shift of schoolwork. I often sit up working till almost midnight. It's insane. I'm figuring out ways to be more efficient and to give myself space to do more of my Trudy things, like playing music, dancing and crafting.

Tomorrow our craft group, Knit & Natter, has its April meeting. I missed last month's one, because I was marking assessments, and I needed to minimise distractions. Anyway, I'm going to tomorrow's gathering. We split into groups and are busy making blankets to donate to the annual "67 Blankets for Mandela" campaign. I'm happy to say that thousands of hand-made blankets are donated to the needy, through this campaign, which now has international reach. I've made quite a few blankets on my own, but quite enjoy the collaborative approach, as well. I'm focussing on blues and greens, this time, which makes me very happy. Unlike the blankets I've made on my own, this one consists of squares, which will be stitched together. Tomorrow I'm learning the special technique of stitching squares together so that the stitching forms a decorative feature of the blanket. Cool!

                        One of the granny squares I've made for my group blanket.

I'd really like to teach kids at our school to crochet and create functional items, but time is so limited. Intervals are short, and there are already so many other activities going on. It would best happen after school, but that creates transport problems, as many of the kids travel by chartered buses.  Maybe I should check it out - see who'd be prepared to stay one afternoon after school per week, to learn to knit and crochet. Even if it's a small group, it could spark further interest. Yep, I'll give it a try. Wish me luck!

It's not even 10pm and I'm feeling very sleepy! I had a lovely day. 

That's such a good feeling.  

Tripped-switch reflections

The past day has pulled me right out of the peaceful space I try so hard, on a daily basis, to inhabit.

Despite the flowery words of our President in his latest State of the Nation Address (SONA), loadshedding not only continued, but was ramped up significantly the very next day! Yesterday, our area had loadshedding from 2pm, which meant we could reasonably expect to be using electricity again at about 4pm.  But 4pm came, 4:40pm came, 5pm came, and still no electricity. Accustomed to having NO faith in the powers that be, I deduced that the period had been extended to 4 hours. However, at about 6:20pm, I noticed that the street lights were on, so I called a neighbour to ask if she knew why our house lights were still off. It turned out, it was just my house - everyone else in the street had had their electricity back on since 4pm! 

I elicited the help of two other neighbours, and eventually reported the breakdown to the municipality. They logged my call, sent me a reference number, then confirmed that it had been assigned to a work team, and that it would be attended to within 24 hours. They indicated that the team might come out at night, too. Of course, I hoped they would, but they didn't. With my freezer contents safely in one neighbour's freezer and a lamp borrowed from another, I got through the night. Very ill at ease, I might add. This is South Africa - one house in total darkness can make you a target.

By this morning, I knew I wasn't going to make it to school - my first day absent since starting there in August last year - so I let the principal and my two HODs know. It wasn't exactly a morning of rest or productivity, because I had no electricity and I had to keep an eye out for the repair team. Eventually - just after I'd washed my body and hair in cold water - they called me to say they were outside. The house numbers in our road are a bit zigzaggy, so I popped my head outside to show them where my house actually was. Ten minutes later they left, having reset a switch in the electricity box in the street, which had tripped. That was just before midday.

Needless to say, being forced out your comfort zone like that makes you reflect on what it is you need for your daily survival.  In some parts of my life, I stopped setting lofty goals, because life just kept knocking the wind out of my sails. Instead, I save that dreamer part of myself for my creative endeavours, and strive for a baseline of comfort in the rest of my life. That's how much I've changed.  Yes, it's awesome to have nice things, to eat out, to buy new clothes, go to live shows, etc. but when you can't, you simply can't. That's a long story - a combination of choices I made, in my quest to rid myself of abusive people, and the trials that life sends us, in one form or another.  

On a lighter note, I'm preparing for a duo gig at a 5-star hotel. It's far - about one and a half hours away - but it's something I've chosen to say Yes to. I'm working with guitarist Rudy Burns, almost 2 years since we last gigged together. We've had one rehearsal so far and have scheduled our second one. I look forward to the adventure of it all. The music's the easy part. Wish I could stay over, and drive back the next day. 

                           Solo Session 6 - The Masque Theatre foyer. Photo: William Rose.

In true Virgo fashion, I have a written record of my music life since returning to performing, in March 2003. Yes - 21 years now! I was looking at the post-lockdown years, today: I did 29 gigs in 2022, and 17 in 2023. The cool thing is that, of the 17 in 2023, 15 were solo performances. That was a huge and intentional change in my life. No regrets. I'm still learning. 

                    Solo Session 6 - with musician friends who came to the show. Photo: William Rose

You know, if you don't shake things up, in different parts of your life, you stagnate. You don't grow. For those by the means, it's travelling to different countries and experiencing different cultures. For others, it's seeing as many live shows as possible. And for others, it's learning a new skill, or starting a new form of exercise. Wherever I have the freedom to do so, and when I stop getting in my own way, I set goals that take me in a new direction. Even if everything about me looks the same to the onlooker, I know that I'm breaking new ground, and that I'm adding chapters to my story.  

                     Solo Session 7: Seven Sisters Vineyards    Photo: Theresa Smith

 In a phone chat with my son, yesterday, I spoke about my solo sessions in the past tense, and he was alarmed, because he thought I meant I'd put them behind me. What I was actually doing was referring to the ones I'd already done, and how doing them had helped me stretch, as a self-managing musician. 

               Solo Session 7 - with friends, old and new.        Photo: Theresa Smith 

I've posted a few pics taken at some of my 2023 gigs throughout this article. Happy memories indeed. When my energy finally settles (new job), I will return to my solo sessions, armed with a few new songs, as well as the life experience gained since my last one (Aug 23).  

                                              Solo Session 8: Suzie's Coffee Shop

Sometimes, life needs you to put off what makes your soul sing for what pays the bills. Elizabeth Gilbert has a rather crude way of describing the jobs we do outside of our art forms. I won't write it here. I'm a teacher, after all. Heehee!  

Live your truth. 

Peace  

  

Boundaried Healing

Today is a stand-alone day. The past week has been a stand-alone week. On the home front, the past two months have been a stand-alone period. In my professional life, the past four months formed a stand-alone block of time. The entire year before that was a stand-alone period of time, in my working life, with the 6 months of unpaid work (still unresolved!) forming its own bizarre chapter. In fact, my entire life feels like a stand-alone 62-year period of time. On my good days, I lean towards believing in multiple lives, but on my bad days, I'm so glad we have just one life. 

This is my first post for the year, and it is my sincere intention to blog more frequently. We'll see. 

I've been thinking a lot about what my priorities for the year are, and all I can think of is that it is time to focus on healing. I don't think there's a person alive who isn't dealing with the impact of some past experience. I know that I have a tendency, despite my habit of processing things through writing, to fling myself into the next course-correcting chapter without sufficient attention to healing and gaining closure. I end up with a backlog of experiences from which to heal, and, unless I consciously set things in place to start the healing process, that backlog will keep growing. 

What I love about this time of year is that I have space to think more broadly, to step back and look at my life with more objectivity, and to analyse where and how I can proceed with greater clarity and authenticity. With the school year restarting in six days, this is the perfect time to set some plans in place for the year ahead.

So why call it "boundaried healing"?

A pattern I've observed in myself is how easily I go off-course, on my quest to honour myself. Yes, I can look back and find multiple occasions in my adult life where I have honoured myself, where I've left relationships and jobs where there was a clash of values. I can even think of small-group and one-on-one everyday encounters where I've implemented good boundaries, refusing to fall into traps set by manipulative people. But the truth is, my default mode shows the success story of childhood moulding - you know, that idea of bending a tree while it's young. Like many others, I was raised by a mother who prioritised considering others to the point where considering oneself was deemed selfish. Throw in a bit of good-old-fashioned Anglican guilt, and you get automatic compliance out of fear of going to Hell!  

In short, despite my mother showing fierce courage for a woman born in 1930, she could not shake the "nice-people-don't-do-that" legacy she had inherited, so she raised us the same way. As a result, in my adult life, I had to knock my head many times before learning that boundaries were not only healthy, but essential, if you don't want people to keep taking advantage of you.  What I've also noticed is that many people talk the talk, when it comes to boundaries, but have innately manipulative ways of dealing with those around them. With every single person I encounter, I get to a point where I ask myself, "What is his/her WHY?" Once I establish what someone's WHY is, I see the patterns more clearly and start to understand what's happening. I think that each person's WHY is basically the gap or need we're trying to fill. I've even heard people show remarkable clarity as to why they operate the way they do, but the phrasing of it is almost as though they're discussing another person, and not themselves - which is itself an interesting way to talk about one's insecurities.  

So - back to boundaried healing. I know that I have, in recent months, taken decisions that did not honour me and my needs, but that prioritised someone else's agenda. That's not always a bad thing - in fact, it's even admirable, at times. However, when I've stepped back and looked at the messy issues around the decision(s), I've had to admit that there was, at the very least, subtle manipulation, playing on my sense of kindness, justice, and not wanting someone else to be inconvenienced. 

That pattern needs to finally stop. You know why? Not something I learnt as a child, but it's actually okay to say a clear and unequivocal NO! It's not my job to save everyone in the world. If you ask me to do X, and I say No, you can simply ask another person, who might say an enthusiastic Yes. In fact, if we all answered honestly, we'd all be a lot happier, because we'd be living our truths. At age 62, despite having championed living one's truth, I feel like I've wasted a lot of years pandering to the whims of others - being a good girl, smiling despite the inconvenience, and delaying my own journey and progress. That was modelled to me throughout my childhood. People openly admire and compliment those who are martyrs, so that behaviour ends up being perpetuated, because we all want the strokes, don't we? 

But back to the topic. I keep thinking about the analogy of the airplane oxygen masks - in an emergency, you can't help another passenger unless you've secured your own mask. And that's as simple as it is: I can function effectively only when I am taking care of myself. And that, in short, is my focus for 2024. I will be taking care of myself. I will be healing and being extremely boundaried about it. In every part of my life. I will immerse myself in my creative pursuits, because they energise me and bring me joy and fulfillment. They are essential to who I am, and no-one can take them away from me. I've come to see the link between my strong need for independence and people taking advantage of me, using my kindness as a way to advance their own aims.       

I want to briefly mention two more things that are extremely significant to me, for the year ahead. The first may seem like an unusual aspect of being boundaried, but it's definitely part of honouring oneself  and one's gifts: it's not only okay, but extremely practical and handy to turn one's creativity into income-generating pursuits. Here, again, throughout my childhood I'd hear my mom say that she felt bad charging for her singing, because it was a gift from God. (Note how much self-sabotaging happens as a result of trying to follow religious teachings of humility, modesty, etc.) I know someone who makes jewelry - I would never expect her to give me things without charging me. I know someone who's a designer - same story. There are two hobbies that I love immersing myself in, and I have absolutely no qualms about charging for them: my wool crafting and my music. Not that I need to justify my stance, but both require me to spend money and time and pour my creativity into them. I get to decide when I do things without charging, and when I charge. I'm glad to say I've found a happy balance. 

In a sense, the next point relates to the need to earn extra money (from my hobbies), but it's also an entirely separate topic.  My younger child moved out two months ago, to live an independent adult life, something I'd always wanted her to do, but that had to be put on hold because of my employment issues. As I now live alone in a house more suitable for a family, I have taken the practical decision to downsize, which entails moving - after 27 years! I last lived on my own 33 years ago, and am surprised at how I've adjusted to solo living. However, moving house, after so many years, is a VERY BIG issue for me, for 2024. 

And finally: for many years, I've used an A5-sized appointment diary, and I always choose a specific page layout that works perfectly for me. This year, I'm using one I got as a gift, with the same page layout I like. What I love to do, at the beginning of the year, is draw tiny, colourful flowers on every page, with a different flower for each new week. No matter what my deadlines and pressures are, throughout the year, I will always see little flowers when I open my diary. 

It gives me a deep sense of peace and clarity to know that, even when life gives me a blank page, I'll somehow fill it with colour and life.