Profound goodbyes

I'm always astounded at how much time I let pass between blog posts. As I've written many times before, I think about blogging all the time. There's so much of life that I want to put down in writing, but I just don't. As I've also written many times before, it's in my daily journalling that I express my raw feelings about life and its beauty and strangeness.

Since I last wrote, four people in my circle have passed away: in March, it was Harriet Enus, the mom of my dear friend, Anton (whom I met at age six, in Durban). In June, it was a friend, Trevor Roberts, who died a few months after being diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. Trevor was also a friend I'd met in Durban, at age six. In July, it was Margaret Schultz, the mom of another dear friend, Sandi. My thoughts are with those families, as they grieve for their loved ones.  

The fourth one, the one that changed my world fundamentally, was on 5 May, when my mom died, the day before her 95th birthday. 

I could probably spend many years blogging about my mom and what she meant to me, and I hope to put as much as possible in writing, over time. At this stage, two and a half months after her passing, my thoughts turn to her every day. A friend asked recently how I was coping, and I replied that I thought about her in categories.  I think about my mom as she was during my childhood, when she was my whole world. I think about her during my teenage years, when I'd started making choices that conflicted with my upbringing  - like joining different churches, and getting baptised in a 'born-again' church. I think about her when I was a young adult, teaching, living on my own, my life filled with the drama of tempestuous relationships. I think about her when I was married and became a mom, how her love for her children automatically spilled over to her grandchildren. (My sister had her two children in the 1980s, and I had mine in the 1990s.)   

I think about my mother in her senior years, before she was struck down by Alzheimer's.  She was independent, taking public transport to Claremont on pension day, taking herself for a modest meal at Wimpy (sometimes taking a grandchild along), kept putting on and performing in concerts in her early 80s, and was a solid source of love and support for her family. No-one in my life has ever loved and supported me that much. She was unique to me. She loved us unconditionally. 

When she became ill (diagnosed with Amnestic Syndrome in 2012, and Alzheimer's Disease, a year later), and needed to live in a place where she could be cared for 24/7, I had to be honest that I was not by the means - financially and emotionally - to take on that responsibility. My sister opened her home to my mom, which is where she lived for the next thirteen years, until her death, at home. My sister cared for her, with love, humour, and the expertise gained from her nursing career, and involved her in family events. I am acutely aware of what a huge undertaking that was and will always be grateful for that immense outpouring of love over all those years. It takes a kind of superhero to do such prolonged caregiving. 

For the first seven years of my mother's illness, she spent every second weekend with me. During the Covid lockdown, she couldn't leave the house, and that lack of relief placed a huge burden on my sister. Around that same time, I was having online therapy sessions to deal with some long-standing issues, and one of the outcomes was that I needed to reduce the frequency of my weekends with my mom, in order to take better care of myself. When lockdown was over, I then had my mom with me one weekend a month. It meant a lot to me to be able to spend that time with her, while it saddened me to watch her condition worsening over time. 

One year ago, when I downsized my living space, in order to cope financially (and work away the debt incurred by College of Cape Town not paying my salary for 6 months), I moved into an affordable place just big enough for one person. I budgeted to spend our monthly weekends together at suitable Airbnbs, which I thought we could turn into little adventures. At that time, my sister informed me that our mom's condition was such that it was no longer advisable for her to sleep out of the house.   

I think about my mother when, despite having Alzheimer's, she could still sight-read, and play the  piano. I think about her sense of humour that was evident until about a month before she died. I think about how, in that last month of her life, she lost her ability to walk, and all the ramifications of that loss. I think about how she could no longer swallow properly, and my sister had to feed her soft things like soup, yoghurt, and Ensure. 

I think about the Sunday night my sister messaged me to say that Mom wasn't doing well, and that she had had the priest around to anoint her.  I realised that things were very serious, and went there the next day, to spend time with my mom and my sister. From the morning, already, Mom was displaying the death rattle, which was unnerving to hear. I won't go into any of the details of that day (although I think about them a lot), except to say that she died at 22h15 that night. 

There were quite a few things related to what happens after someone dies that made me feel alienated, but that's personal stuff I have to process over time. 

Mom died on Monday 5 May, her funeral was on Friday 9 May, and her ashes were interred on Sunday 29 June.  

And now, life goes on. But differently. I could never be my mother - she was unique, anyway - but I think both her children and her four grandchildren bear elements of her, which is a beautiful legacy. I will honour her by living as authentically as I can, opening myself to life and its energies, being loving and supportive to the people I hold dear, and always having music in my life.  

                        Mom, a few years ago, playing the piano she bought in Durban, +- 1970

Dreams and dreams

Today is the final day of a three-day-long weekend, and the final day before the last week of the first school term.  I am about to spend my third consecutive day marking. I could spend this entire post complaining, analysing, coming up with suggestions for how the system could be improved, but there's something futile about it. Isn't that just an awful feeling? Having so much to say, so many ideas that are implementable, but feeling a sense of  overwhelming futility?

I had the strangest dream, last night. Sometimes I remember my dreams in detail, and at other times, I wake up knowing I've had a busy dream, but not recalling a thing.  I was in a plane with a friend - a normal passenger plane that seats hundreds of people. It's someone I seldom see, but whom I saw a few days ago, Oh, in fact it's her birthday today! We were seated next to each other, and I decided I wanted to relax on the roof of the plane. Yes. I took my relaxing things with me, climbed some stairs, and went to lie down on a deck on the top of the aeroplane - outside. Nothing wrong with that, right? :-) I was awoken by a phone call from my daughter, who was angry that I hadn't wished her for her birthday. I felt the plane start to descend, so I told her I had to get back inside because it had started its descent. I went back inside, and the dream continued for quite long after that, with me inevitably looking for something I'd misplaced, and everyone realising that a woman seated one row from us was the wife of Jonah Lomu, the late great All Blacks rugby superstar. Random, Trudes!!! I don't even like rugby!    

So, before I launch into the serious stuff of the day, what can I write about?

A different kind of dream. A dream of a lifestyle completely different to the one I have. In this dream,  I live so close to the ocean, that part of my daily routine is a leisurely walk on the beach. I walk in the shallow water, and I feel an incredible sense of oneness with nature. The sensation of the water and sand on my skin, and the sounds of the waves and the seagulls, as well as the fresh smell of the ocean, fill my soul with such deep peace and joy, that I feel like a child again. I have always loved the sea, and it still feels like my place of innocence and joy, before life showed me the things I wasn't raised to expect.

I remember, in my childhood, being given the nickname "Water" (in Afrikaans - spelt the same as in English), because wherever we went, I was always the first to get into the water, and was happiest when I could stay there for most of the outing.  I watch my daughter in the sea, now, and know that she's the same. Water is her element. Interesting - she's a fire sign and I'm an earth sign. I suppose both need water for something or the other.  Come to think of it, my son swims practically every day, so I suppose it's in all of us, that love for water. And their dad was a competitive swimmer, at high school. So they get it from both of us. Yup.

I have to fight through the layers of adult awareness to remember the sheer delight of my experiences in the sea. They continued into my adult life, actually. In my twenties, I hung out with a group of  lifesavers, where the ocean and the beach were what life was all about. Oh, they also swam competitively (a very competitive bunch, come to think of it), and played water polo as well. I spent a lot of time at the beach back then. My car was always full of sand, but I remember the good feeling of having spent a day swimming in the sea and relaxing on the sand - that luxurious tiredness, the eyes stinging from the salt, the skin warm from the sun, and the pleasurable sensation of a soft t-shirt touching your skin before you drove home. Oh, and the hunger!!! The sea gives one such an appetite!

I also enjoyed the beach for just soaking up the sun. My cousin, Tracy, and I loved going to Saunders Rock, in Sea Point, to just lie in the sun! We'd read, talk, or just lie on our towels in silence, lathered in sunblock (or was it suntan lotion, at the time?), working on our tans. I don't think we were even aware of the benefits of the sun, nor of the possible dangers of over-exposure. We were just enjoying ourselves. I even got into the habit of timing myself, spending equal amounts of time lying on my tummy and on my back. :-)          

But, back to my dream. (Can you imagine how I struggle to meditate without a guided soundtrack?!) I would complete my walk, then go back to my cosy, comfortable cottage, which has all the creature comforts - including wifi - and proceed with the rest of my day.  After my shower, I'd have a tasty breakfast, while watching the sea. Then I'd switch on my laptop, and do some work. My work entails writing, proofreading and editing. I get paid by individuals and companies, but I also allocate time to doing pro bono work for NPOs. Besides that, I spend time creating crocheted and knitted items, which I sell. I do my creative stuff at a pace that suits me. I also sell recordings of my original songs, performing only when all the elements appeal to me. 

Another of my passions I obviously pursue is my love for radio. I have a weekly programme on radio, where I interview interesting people, and play music in between the chatting. Just like I did in 2014. I love being back on radio. 

One of my main activities, in my cosy cottage by the sea, where I inhale fresh air, allow myself to be be mesmerised and humbled by the sunrises and sunsets, and live life at my own pace, is writing. Did I mention that I am a published author, in my dream? Yes, I am. Most people don't know that my love for writing often supercedes my love for making music. I can go for days without playing my guitar, but not without writing. My widely-read books take me to interesting places, where I engage with school children and adults, discussing topics I've explored.   

(I have just deleted an entire paragraph, which I can't seem to retrieve!) 

 At the end of the day, just before sunset, I take another walk on the beach. I reflect on my day and allow nature to inspire me. 

I come back, enjoy my supper while watching the sunset, then have another shower - ooh, or a leisurely bath, because my cosy cottage by the sea will of course have a bath - before settling down to do whatever pleases me.    

The paragraph I deleted had something about scheduling time with family and friends, and enjoying hanging out with them, sometimes going to new places and having new experiences - all without feeling pressured or rushed. I think that's what I'm yearning for. Not just autonomy, but a slower, less frenzied, pace of life that feels manageable, but also varied and enjoyable. I have to have something to look forward to. 

I'm 63 and a half years old. How feasible is my dream? I think I should simply start introducing bits of it at a time, like one creates a granny-square blanket. In the end, after quite a bit of chaos - and doubt - it all comes together beautifully. I think that's a great metaphor. Maybe that's why I felt compelled to write today. I seldom know where the writing will take me. I quite like that feeling. 

                            2024 - assembling squares of a blanket made with my cousin, Theresa.

I owe it to myself

I moved into my flatlet (my "tiny house") in the middle of last year. It was one of the biggest changes I'd voluntarily undertaken in a long time.  I must admit, I find change exciting, and I get restless when things stay the same for too long. Not that they do, because, within the apparent sameness, there's a lot of volatility. After I'd settled in, I thought I'd embark on a big new adventure every six months, but life kept me so busy and distracted, that I think I'm probably looking at a new adventure every 12 months.  

So what's the big 'adventure' I want this year? Well, I'll keep the details private for now. Working on it. I tend to procrastinate, but when my restlessness reaches boiling point, I spring into action, somewhat impatient to arrive at my new destination. We'll see.   

I caught part of a video, recently, where Jane Fonda (US actress, with a long history of  human rights activism) was interviewed. She said that, as she got older (she's 87), she decided that, to experience life fully, she would go about her life more intentionally. It really resonated with me. You know what I hate? I hate looking back at a period of time, and feeling like all I've actually focussed on is survival. I hate that! And I won't feel guilty for wanting more. There has to be more to life.  

There's so much more I could be filling my life with, so much I could be creating, so many songs I could be learning, writing, or singing, but here I am, plodding through day after day of what's expected of me, thinking and saying what's expected of me, and wondering when I'll find the time to do what makes my soul soar - what I expect of myself.  

I know, having been through this many times before, that restlessness is a necessary precursor to change. My life, starting from my childhood, has been a developing story with many, quite distinct, chapters.  It's time to work on a suitable ending for this one, and write the next.  Nature does it all the time - as the seasons change, different trees take their turns to bear their unique fruits.  

   I took this pic of the guava tree outside my kitchen on 2 March. 

Yes - I'll write that new chapter intentionally. 

I owe it to myself.    

Reflecting on Week 1 of the new school year

It's the first weekend of the first school term, and I have two whole days to myself.

Ever since I can remember, I've been aware of myself operating on two planes - doing, and observing. Because we live and work within communities, our smooth functioning is closely linked to the people within those communities. I can honestly say that all the structure and smooth functioning that I experienced at school this week was a result of the efficiency of others there. I am deeply grateful to be teaching at a school with such a high level of structure. I firmly believe that, in any context, the leadership sets the tone for others to follow. I noticed this last year, already - the level of preparation of  senior management had a knock-on effect on the rest of the staff. Similarly, I believe that, in the classroom, the teacher sets the tone for what happens there and how it happens. Yes, we're dealing with about 35 different personalities in every class we teach, but we, as teachers, determine the atmosphere in our classes. 

Last year, I was so aware of myself as new at the school, learning as I went along, that I wasn't as on top of things as I prefer to be. It was a year of intense learning. I feel a lot more settled, after teaching there for a full school year, and I have a better grasp of how much of myself I can put into my job. I think last year also taught me how little time there was to get through the syllabus. It comes right back to what I wrote in a previous post - I learnt to pace myself. And I will continue to learn. The day I stop learning is the day life stops being interesting. 

I'm teaching two subjects, across four grades. I have supportive colleagues, so I have no doubt it's going to be a good year. This time of the year, our school does athletics, so from next week that will form part of every day. It's a short burst for most of us, because, from February, we're no longer involved. That's when our sports specialists train the top athletes for the inter-school event and beyond. 

I love having my own classroom!  After just three days of teaching, I can feel the distinct advantages. The walking around, last year, entailed a layer of stress I no longer have. Now, between classes, I just put one file, one textbook and set of notes away, and take out the next. I clean the board, wait IN MY ROOM for the children to arrive, let them in, and teach.  I love it! And I have a beautiful view from my upstairs classroom, so when I do have a few minutes, I can simply take in the view. These are blessings for which I am grateful.  

                                            View from my classroom - January 2025

As I settle in to the academic year, I'm also excited about decorating my classroom with a combination of things. Yes, it's still exciting, even 41 years after I started my teaching career. I've got some nice ideas I'll start implementing next week.   

With Week 1 of 11 behind me, I am aware that, in a job like mine, even my weekends need structure, as a lot of schoolwork is done in one's private time. In fact, I think it's time to start accepting that the concept of private time is more linked to corporate-sector work, and that teachers get very little of it during term time. Ooh, why does that feel so wrong for me?! It's a challenge I will keep working on. Balance is very important, so I need to find a way to make sure my weekends have both school prep time, as well as relaxation and personal fulfilment. It gets tricky when I have social commitments over weekends. What really stresses me is having commitments on both days of a weekend. Anyway.... this is just me writing as I think things through. In the end, I always come up with a plan, and I somehow manage to get everything done. One thing I need to guard against is getting into a pattern of having too little sleep, doing schoolwork till well after midnight. Been there, done that. It's neither healthy nor sustainable. And life's too short.  

All things considered, Week 1 was a great start.  Now for the next ten. :-)

True Peace

It's 2025. A whole new year! 

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, it's pitch dark outside, and I've got practically every window and external door open, to cool the place down. Earlier, I was posting on Facebook, and I put on a YouTube video of calming rain sounds - something I often do when I want to focus, but my mind wanders too much. I actually do it before I fall asleep sometimes. But now, the rain sounds feel intrusive, so I'll switch off the video and type in silence. I think the action of typing  calms me down enough, and focuses me. I write, therefore I am.    

I have three days left of my glorious four-week summer holiday, and I feel a huge sense of satisfaction, because I got through almost everything on my list, and I managed to do fun things that fed my soul. I also feel good, because I managed to pace myself, alternating busy/people days with being alone. Being alone fuels me. Being single means I don't need to justify that anymore - I can simply be who I am. It may sound selfish, but I think I've spent most of my life putting everyone else's needs before my own, and now it's time for me. I think a lot of women in their sixties feel this way. 

There are three more friends I was hoping to see before going back to school, and I'll probably get to see only one. The others I'll arrange to see over a weekend, once school has resumed.

It sounds like it's actually started to rain! That should cool things down nicely. 

I popped in at school today, to see the classroom I'd been allocated for the year. Last year, I didn't have a classroom, so I was a 'roaming' teacher, walking from class to class. I'm excited for the school year ahead, and want to keep learning, to add value to the kids and to the school. 

As I contemplate the year ahead, I'm more aware than ever that life can take one by surprise. You can start the year thinking you're going to achieve X, Y and Z, but  things crop up that shift your attention and energy completely. 

Here are some of the most important lessons I learnt (or re-learnt) last year:

- When someone shows you their true colours, believe what you're seeing. 

- In most situations in life, I have a choice. 

- No matter what life throws at me, there's always some way in which I can be true to myself.  I may not be able to walk away from the situation, but I can refuse to compromise my principles.     

- The cliché that's absolutely true: When you fail to plan, you plan to fail.  

- The universe will always send me kindred spirits, wherever I am. 

-The universe will always send me music, which is the magic I need every single day. (One of the music rooms at school is adjacent to the staffroom, and it's the most wonderful feeling to be sitting there during a free period, listening to the kids/teachers playing anything from classical to jazz.)  

- And lastly: the person I can rely on 100% is myself.  

This holiday has reminded me about something else, which my children also pointed out: when I'm left to my own devices, and am in control of my own time, I am capable of achieving everything I say I will. These four weeks came after  one of the most intense years I've had in a while. But more than that, the year itself came after an extensive period of struggling financially. So the four-week holiday felt like the first proper holiday I'd had in a while. 

                                                   Some of my sweet Christmas presents. 

Yes. I'm really happy that I was able to spend time with my family and some friends, and also enjoy solo time. I'm happy that I got to do things that will make 2025 easier. Rearranging my living space will impact positively on my workflow, this year. I bring a lot of schoolwork home, and my space just wasn't working for me.  This year will be different.  

To anyone reading this, I wish you a very good 2025. 

May the horrors taking place around the world come to an end, and may peace prevail. True peace.    

                              The half moon, seen from outside my flatlet, on 8 January 2025.

More 2024 reflection

It's Monday, 30 December, and today has been a rainy day. I was going to do a forest walk with a friend, but decided against it when the weather became wet and unpleasant. As a dog owner who walks her dog twice daily, she wasn't letting the weather deter her, though.

I'm just over halfway into my 4-week school holiday, and it's been a really good break, thus far. Around the "Big Days", I spent quality time with family and a few friends. I do have a list, though, so there are still a few more I plan to hang out with before the school year starts. I am not a big-group person, so seeing my friends in small gatherings is what I prefer - we get to talk and really listen, catching up with each other's lives. For teachers at public schools, school reopens on Monday 13 January, which is in two weeks' time. All I can do to quell the niggling sadness about the dwindling holiday is be true to myself, away from my job responsibilities. That means finding the right balance between alone time and seeing people. 

I bought a set of my favourite guitar strings, so I do actually need to restring my guitar. There are a few domestic chores I still want to do before returning to school, and I know I will. Getting certain tasks done during the school term is just too unrealistic. If I've learnt anything this year, it's that Time and Energy, two of my most valuable resources, have to be expended judiciously. The alternative is weeks and weeks of feeling out of sync with myself, which negatively impacts on every part of my life.

I keep coming back to trying to focus on what the biggest deals were for me, in 2024. Everytime I think there were three, then I think of a fourth, etc. 

I may have written this in my previous post, but I think the most radical changes in my life in 2024 happened on the inside. Yes, I do believe that "our inner and outer worlds are connected" (one of the Six Laws of the Mind, according to Mind Power), but I've also discovered that some of our biggest victories aren't always seen by anyone else - we're often the only ones aware of that victory.  I've also come to appreciate that some of our inner changes start to manifest outwardly only after a period of time, when circumstances elicit them.  For example, you're in a situation of conflict, and you take a bold step that you've never taken before. You know that, but the others involved don't necessarily know that you've stepped up in a big way, breaking a previous pattern. Another example is someone suggesting something which you think is unrealistic, but, for all the right reasons, you go out of your way to make it happen. To the observer, you're seen as just that type of person, but you know what it cost you, personally, to achieve that end result. 

My biggest change, this year, was a very visible one - I moved house during the June school holidays. I've written about this extensively, I think. For six months, covering two hectic school terms, I stumbled around in limited space, banging my knees, tripping over boxes, and feeling a general sense of 'disgruntledness' in my new space, knowing things couldn't go on that way. And then the December school holidays started, all external pressure was off, and I redesigned my space, making it MUCH more pleasant to be in. In the first few days of the holiday, I  got rid of things, packed others away, organised my cupboards, and gave myself another new beginning - an improvement on the one I'd given myself in June.  Maybe I'll give my life a bit of a shake-up every six months? Now there's a thought.   

Another important change in my life, this year, was paying my final installment on my car, after years and years!  That enabled me to reallocate resources, which made a big difference to the path that I'm on towards being debt-free. I achieved it before, and I'll do so again. 

While my music life took a bit of a backseat, I managed to do a coupe of performances every now and then, write a few monthly songs for my niece's baby, in the first year of his life, and be interviewed on radio recently.  Soon I'll be interviewed on someone's podcast, which I'm very excited about. She's a wonderful, vibrant loose cannon, so I have no idea what to expect! :-)  Tucked in between all the things in my life that I plan, structure and customise, that podcast is exactly what I need! Watch this space! 

I think this year showed me how quickly a year can go by. The four school terms, roughly eleven weeks each, whizzed by like lightning. You teach for a few weeks, do a few small assessments, and then suddenly you're setting the quarterly exam. That's followed by exam time  (and invigilating, which is very hard for a busy bee like me) and my least favourite part of teaching: marking! Oh my word! I wish I could outsource that! I love teaching, I love engaging with the students, but the marking.....! Hours and hours of sitting still and marking similar responses to the same questions, over and over and over again. I have an unapologetically creative brain, which craves - and thrives on - change and newness. Marking is like the universe punishing me for all the things I've ever done wrong in my 63 years on this earth.  The only thing that gets me through marking, besides listening to music I love, and eating loads of  snacks, is the knowledge that if I just KEEP marking, it WILL come to an end! It's insane! I seriously don't understand why, in 2024, we're not marking electronically. The wheels of change move very slowly. 

This year reminded me that there's always something to learn, including about myself. 

This year taught me, all over again, the importance of friends. 

This year brought me full circle to the truth that when I rely on myself, I get things done.

This year showed me that not everyone operates with integrity, but that that's their journey; I simply need to remain anchored in truth. 

This year brought beautiful new friends into my orbit, and I cherish these friendships.  

Mostly, this year has taught me to pace myself. When I think about returning to my high school job in 2025, I feel much more prepared, because I now know what a year at school feels like, in the mid-2020s.  Some people say, especially to busy, creative and ambitious women, "You can't do/have it all". I disagree. You can. You just have to pace yourself  and work judiciously with your time and energy. Sometimes it does mean putting something you love aside, for a while. But it doesn't mean that you can't return to it once the immediate pressure's off. Occasionally it means rallying a team, to achieve things as part of a collective, which is not a bad lesson at all. 

Yep - that's what 2024 taught me, more than anything else: to pace myself.

  

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.