In the Wee, Small Hours of the Morning

Written at 00h45, on Friday 20 April 2012

Just back from a gig. Wide awake, full of adrenalin that just won’t subside. I’m actually very tired, but I have to wait for the water to heat up. We limit our usage of the hot water geyser, switching it on just before we need to shower/bath, so I’m waiting for the water to get hot enough to shower, and then I’m going to bed.

When my most recent relationship ended, after 8 and a half years, I made a promise to myself: I would give myself exactly six months to dwell on things, feel bad about the specifics of the break-up, mourn the loss of a soul connection, and beat myself up about some bad choices; after that, I would move on, open my heart, mind and soul to possibilities, and walk with peace, joy and confidence into my future.

Well, six months have now passed, and I consciously open my eyes to everything around me, taking it all in.
Now I’ve entered a brand new phase of my life, as I decisively walk away from certain aspects of my past.
Already, in just 2 days, I’ve felt the relief and excitement of honouring myself in this way. My new, non-negotiable approach to all relationships is this: if anyone does not respect me and honour what’s important to me, I’m not interested in pursuing that friendship. I’ve had to learn this the long, hard way, but believe me, I have now learnt the importance of being true to myself and of making my boundaries and expectations clear to the people I interact with. If I live my life in a self-respecting, self-honouring way, I set the standard for how others treat me. Everyone needs to be very clear about their limits. In the past, I second-guessed myself so much, that I stopped heeding my own limits, stopped listening to that little warning voice.

But no more. For the rest of my life, I will operate differently.

It’s 10:55 now, and I’m waiting for my son to finish a physio session. On-going knee recovery stuff.

Last night’s gig definitely is one for the records, or the autobiography, which, I suppose, I’m actually writing as a series of blog articles. I got to the venue later than planned, but judging by the absence of cars outside, I gathered that there wasn’t exactly a crowd. Once inside, I was told that I would be doing two sets, and not just one, as the other band had had a family tragedy. I had two simultaneous reactions: the first, quite by habit, was to panic, because I hadn’t brought all my song files, so I felt under-equipped. The second, in the spirit of “anything’s possible”, was to take a chance and call up a guitarist I enjoyed working with and see if he was prepared, at very short notice, to join me for the second set. To my utter delight, this shot-in-the-dark request yielded a positive response! I did the first set alone, and was joined by Keith Tabisher for the second set. It worked out beautifully. Keith and I have been performing as a duo since 2003, so we slip into a mode when we perform, that smoothness that comes after years of collaboration. He recently bought a new jazz guitar, and when he plays it, you can hear how satisfying it is for him to play; wow, he played so beautifully! For one or two songs, I put my guitar down and let him do the playing, while I sang - sheer bliss.

Even though there were fewer than 10 people in the audience (ouch!), I enjoyed both sets immensely, and the people who were there responded warmly. You win some, and you win others in different ways. 