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.