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.