Moonlines

Written on Tuesday, 7 Feb. 2012

Tonight, breaking my usual week-night routine, I went down to the beach and swam. No words could adequately describe the beauty of the night. Even though we got there while it was still light, I could see the full moon as it rose in the sky, its whiteness barely discernable against the bright sky. As the time wore on, however, and the sky dressed itself for the occasion, the moon became more and more prominent, glowing brilliantly against the sunset hues.

Just sitting on the beach was magical, but getting into the water and swimming in the tidal pool with the full moon’s reflection shimmering on the surface, was like an out-of-body experience. I swam up and down a few times, then just frolicked, because tonight wasn’t about counting lengths or even having a workout – tonight was a night for giving thanks. It’s easier for me to give thanks while I’m doing something physical – I feel better when both my mind and body are in on the action.

I gave thanks for my mother, sitting on the beach, soaking up the sunset and the fresh sea air, quietly appreciating the surprise beach picnic. I gave thanks for my son, missing out on the beach because of an after-school programme. I gave thanks for my daughter, another water baby, also in the tidal pool (with her little friend). I gave thanks for my friends and how they’ve stood by me through some of my darkest times, how they’ve motivated me, said things to keep me going, given me bits of practical advice, listened to my rantings, and made me laugh when I thought I’d lost my ability to do so.

But most of all, tonight was about giving thanks for my job. Last Monday I started an 8-week teaching contract at College of Cape Town’s city campus. It’s wonderful to be back there. I don’t know where to start, when it comes to describing what I like about working there. Firstly, when you’ve been unemployed for a while, it feels SO good to be working, period! But there’s so much more that I like about working there. I love working in town, with its City Bowl heat, its hustle and bustle, and the convenience of all the shops. I love the old building, full of character, situated in a precinct of historic buildings, like the City Hall, the Drill Hall (now our city’s Central Library), the District Six Museum and the old Sacks Futeran Building, which now houses the District Six Homecoming Centre and the fascinating Fugard Theatre.

I enjoy the students I teach – their ages anything from 18 to the 30’s – and really enjoy my time there, with one class after the other coming into my room for lessons. This time round, I’m lecturing five different subjects to six different classes. We have to teach 30 lessons a week. That’s a lot of talking!

The staff, a group of people I first worked with for 6 weeks last year, were friendly and welcoming, and I feel relaxed around them. As I hang out with them during the breaks, I’m reminded once more that people are people. In every staff situation, you find similar dynamics. I know that, whether I get involved or not, whether I form friendships or not, whether I chat up a storm or remain silent, life will go on - for them, and for me. I suppose this is another example of how one’s perspective changes as one gets older. And maybe, because I’ve worked at a few different places now, my expectations have changed, and I’m less invested in certain things than I was before. In fact, because I spend my whole day talking, it’s wonderful to just keep quiet during breaks, and sip my green tea.

So the beach visit was a wonderful way to achieve a lot in one go – I hate the phrase “kill two birds with one stone” – and while it did throw us out of our evening routine, we’d all had fun, and got into bed feeling warm and happy, with that wonderful after-the-beach feeling of having reconnected with nature and having restored some sense of balance to our lives.

It was interesting to me that each one of us, at ages 13, 50 and 81, said the same thing, at various stages of the evening: “We should really do this more often.” Considering we live no more than a fifteen-minute drive from the beach, there’s no reason why it can’t become a weekly thing. Having said as much, I have to add, “weather-permitting” – this is Cape Town, after all!

About 11 years ago, I challenged myself (a moongazer, ever since I can remember) to write a song with the word, “ moon” in every line. I did, and called it “Moonlines”. I haven’t sung - or even thought about - it for years.