You’ve Got A Friend

Picture: a cropped version of one of Gregory Franz's photos taken at my recent concert.

Sunday 6 November 2011

One of those days where there’s so much on my mind (this is always true), that I don’t know where to start.

The pleasure of being able to start my day relaxing in bed and typing a blog post, is something I haven’t had for a while. Thanks to the assistance of a very generous friend, I was recently able to sort out quite a few loose ends, including my laptop problems. I might not believe in angels with wings and harps, but I certainly have encountered, in the course of my life thus far, people who possess the qualities ascribed to angels. This friend is one of them.

The profound changes I’ve experienced, over the past fourteen months, and particularly in the last two, have altered the direction of my life irreversibly. The best part is, I’m at peace with it all. When you’re in the middle of a big, life-altering event (being retrenched, for example), it’s easy to feel like you’re the victim of an arbitrary act of unfairness, and it’s even easier to wallow in self-pity. As trite as this may sound, the longer you remain in that state of woe-is-me, the longer you’re likely to take to restore the equilibrium in your life. Some people, for whatever reason, never move beyond the anger-and-blame stage, after an extremely unpleasant or challenging experience, and live the rest of their lives bogged down by the weight of it. I’ve encountered people in their senior years whose every utterance spews out the venom of past injustices, hurts and disappointments. It saddens me that they’ve not been able to deal with, work through and move past their pain; their lack of joy and excitement about anything makes me wonder what daily life must be like for them – I can’t imagine living life like there’s nothing to look forward to. In fact, I’ve promised myself something, especially after my most recent “extremely challenging experience”: if any part of my life feels like a drag, like it’s going nowhere and it’s sapping my joy, rather than fuelling it, and if it feels like there’s nothing to look forward to, it’s time to be true to myself and walk away. I’ve been severely tested, recently, but I’m going through all the emotions that I have to, immersing myself in the different facets of closure, and moving on. Just give me time - I’ll be more than ok.

The beautiful symmetry of life’s energy flow has again become apparent to me, in the past few weeks: the same day I discovered something toxic in my close circle and decisively extricated myself from it, I received a phone call about a possible job opportunity. I went for an interview a few days later, was accepted for the position a few days after that, and am now working in a part-time position, till the end of the school year. I’m lecturing at one of the big FET (Further Education and Training) colleges in our city. Yes! Beaming with excitement and loving every minute of it! I lecture four subjects in the old matric syllabus, to adults: English First Language, English Second Language, Afrikaans Second Language, and Criminology. I love the old building, I’m enjoying the students, and the staff has been welcoming, friendly and helpful. I drive to town every day, leaving home earlier than ever before, and it all works out beautifully. When the children are with me, I leave even earlier! We managed four out of five seamless mornings this week, which was not bad at all! I leave college at 3:30pm, so I miss the evening traffic craziness. I take De Waal Drive (a winding road on the lower slopes of Table Mountain) twice a day, which gives me a sensory feast of ocean and mountain, filling my songwriter tanks, making my spirits soar.

I am alive, so I might as well be very alive!

I have chosen to continue with all my other activities, despite having a day job, which means I still tutor a little boy in the afternoons and teach all my guitar lessons (13 a week, including groups) in the evenings and the whole of Saturday. Besides that, I’ve done a few gigs, as well! Of course, this translates into a hectic schedule, but I’ve chosen to seize opportunities when they arise and to cut the clutter as much as possible. Prioritising and being realistic about how much I can and can’t do, are important under these circumstances. The job ends on 6 December, after which I go back to being a self-employed musician, which was why I didn’t want a break in the guitar lessons. As it is, I’m probably going to be faced with a sudden drop in income in December, if most or all of the students take a break. Here’s sending out a message to the universe – send me lots of fun, well-paid gigs, please!

Speaking of which, yesterday I did a one-hour gig with my friend, Keith Tabisher, at a wheelchair race organised by the Western Cape Rehabilitation Association (I might have the actual name wrong). It was in Mitchells Plain, on the premises of Lenteguer Psychiatric Hospital, where the Rehab building is situated. We sat under a huge Nomad tent and the sound was done for us. We played a selection of well-known instrumentals and songs, and people enjoyed the music. Keith played his acoustic guitar and the two guitars sounded more beautiful than I can describe. Performing music is not just about instruments, techniques and item selection – it’s so much about the energies of the people. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, and have played in more gigs together than I have with anyone else, and all that history comes together when we play.

Every gig I do is like a chapter in the story of my life, and there’s inevitably something funny that happens. Yesterday we faced the challenge of announcements blaring while we were performing, with the same speakers emitting both. At first, we were thrown by the interruptions, and stopped playing till the announcement was over, then started the song again. This wasn’t very successful, because a few seconds later there’d be another announcement, and we’d have to start again. In the end, we found a compromise, continuing to play the chords and just stopping the vocals until he’d finished the announcement, so you’d have the unbelievable combination of something like: “When you’re down and troubled, and you need some love and care/All the contestants for the 800m wheelchair race please come to the Start/Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I will be there/ Don’t forget you can take a raffle for just R5 to win a fabulous… /You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running/ We’d like to thank our sponsors, …, for making this event possible /You’ve got a friend!

J