Woman Zone - Finding Herself - Podcast Interview - Part 3 of 4

 TRANSCRIPT OF WOMAN ZONE INTERVIEW WITH TRUDY RUSHIN, PART OF ‘FINDING HERSELF’ PODCAST SERIES (DEC. 2020)

INTERVIEWER: THERESA SMITH

·         I was going to ask you this question about would you give a shoutout to anyone who has helped you along the way, so let’s talk about that. 

TRUDY:  Ok, so I would definitely say the biggest influence in my life was my mother. She is now 90 years old and has Alzheimer’s, so our relationship has changed, because she doesn’t communicate like she used to, etc. but watching her, when I was growing up – at home, she was just Mommy and she wore like huisklere and cleaned the floors herself and cooked and did everything, but when she went on stage, she transformed, you know – she dressed  and she wore jewelry and I remember always being blown away by her singing. Whether it was in a community concert or in an opera, but she was always this like unbelievable goddess. And... then at home she was Mommy – warm, loving, nurturing. Ja, you know, just such a strange combination and yet I think that ended up paving the way for sort of how I live my life – not that I’m a goddess! (giggles) Ja! I hope I’m raising one!

                                           My daughter, my mom and I - 29 Dec 2020

I have one sibling and that’s my sister, Wendy, and she’s always had my back, so shoutout to her. I have family members – cousins – who are fairly close and we, at different stages of my life, we lived with different family members, so my mother, my sister and I, we lived at different … with family… and then, in the music part of my world: Eddie Petersen, Keith Tabisher, Wayne Bosch.

The late Errol Dyers – I met him only in 2011, but in the short time that I knew him, until his death, he made a huge impact on me. I loved the fact that he seemed devoid of ego – in terms of “I’m the great Errol Dyers” – he was very humble and it showed in how he made space for me, when we made music together. And I just liked him a lot - his value system, his no-nonsense approach. He refused to play cover versions. And I regret to say that at one gig, I mean I got him to play a wedding with me, where we did cover versions. But, you know, it was a job and, at different stages of musicians’ lives, they do that kind of thing. But in general, he didn’t like playing cover versions – he liked playing either his originals or the originals of the person he was playing with, so he liked my songs. Or he wanted to play South African music.

                                         Errol Dyers and I, 2014 // Photo: Gregory Franz

And then, more recently, a musician I’ve worked with is Rudy Burns. He’s more than ten years my senior, also a guitarist, beautiful musician and I really … I’m very lucky to have these accomplished musicians who are happy to play my music and play along with me, you know.

                                                            Rudy Burns and I, 2018

And then, three people I want to mention who are in the music world but not musicians, who’ve really made a difference to me: two of them are Chantel Erfort and her husband, André Manuel, who have Dala Flat Music. 

And in 2004 they came to a gig where Keith and I were playing, and Chantel heard some of my originals and gave me an opportunity to perform my originals to a poetry audience.  At that time, she was organising  monthly poetry nights at this restaurant in Adderley Street, called Off Moroka, which is no longer there.  And that was the first time I’d played in that kind of setting, where people were just sitting in a fairly intimate space and I think for thirty minutes I just played my original songs. And it really felt like baring my soul and it felt like such a  … it was such a difficult thing for me, for many reasons.

I just want to take a step back. I had been married for six years, and even though I married a musician, it was not a harmonious marriage, most of the time. And one of the things he said to me, that informed me for a while, until I broke free of that, was “Don’t sing your songs in public – they’re too personal. “ And the first night that I played at Chantel’s poetry evening, when I sang my originals… only originals … just myself, nobody else playing with me – at the end of that set, women came up to me and said, “You’ve sung my story. You’ve put into words, into songs, what I could never turn into a piece of art – but you’ve sung my story.“ And that … that was a big, big change in my life. And another interesting part of the Chantel-André dynamic is that I taught Chantel when she was in Sub A! (Giggles) So that was amazing - that someone on whose life I had impacted, when she was so young, then impacted on mine, all those years later.  

And then another person who has done a lot for me, musically, is Lisba Vosloo. She is a documentary filmmaker and I met her when she was filming my mom for a documentary on the Eoan Group. And she then came to one of my gigs and filmed me and then it turned into filming two videos that are now on YouTube. So, Lisba has done a whole lot for me and … ja… and we continue to be in each other’s lives, all these people, so it’s… and there are many others … I just … you know, there are so many people who impact on one, in small and big ways,  and we really are who we are because of other people – what they bring out in us and what they see in us.

Oh, and then lastly, how can I forget! I want to do a shoutout to my children. My son, Nick, is 25 and my daughter, Summer, is 21. And they really know and understand me better than anybody else and they are so supportive. Ja, they just…. I’m really in a very, very good space with my children and it’s wonderful to see how they have internalised some of the messages that I’ve tried to live my life with… you know, like authenticity and speaking your truth, etc. So, big shoutout to them as well.  

                                            
                                                                     Nick & Summer, March 2020

 

Woman Zone - Finding Herself - Podcast interview - Part 2 of 4

TRANSCRIPT OF WOMAN ZONE INTERVIEW WITH TRUDY RUSHIN, PART OF ‘FINDING HERSELF’ PODCAST SERIES (DEC. 2020)

INTERVIEWER: THERESA SMITH

·         So – who or what has stood in your way, on this journey?

TRUDY: You know, I’m hesitant to blame anybody. I would say the things that hold me back, typically, are linked to my socialisation.  So I would say it’s myself – it’s all inside of me. Where… we weren’t raised to shine, as weird as that sounds – even though your parents always wanted the best for you. You sort of got the idea that other people excelled and you did what you had to do. And there was a bit of “hou jouself plat” … you know…. “hou vir jou plat”, in the socialisation. And I’m not saying this to blame, you know, parents. Parents do they best that they can. Those messages, man, of like, “Who do you think you are? “ You know? Which was completely different to how my mother lived her life, you know, as this opera singer on stage. 

So, who stood in my way? I would say a lot of those messages of “be a good girl”, “follow the rules”, “do the right thing”, made me focus so much on being compliant. Ja, I often didn’t see the bigger picture that other people may have seen. And I … I would say I plodded along and I also think things that stood in my way, along the same lines, like my socialisation, made me blind to the darker side of life. So I was often quite unsuspecting when weird people came into my life.  Er… I wasn’t prepared for people who were not ... like… nice and wanting the best for everyone one else, you know.

 ·         I have to wonder, though, how much of that is broader society and like kind of, you know, how our world works and how much of that is family, because we are related, so I know that a lot of  that is how our family actually works. We have these people who are talented and amazing, and yet the general feeling and way of behaving in the family is to sort of like, you know, “hou jouself in”. This thing of us shining or trying to overshine  someone is like, No, that’s rude!

TRUDY: And in fact the converse ends up happening. And I think – and I don’t know if it’s because you and I are both Virgo – but I find that a lot of what I do in my life is provide a platform for others … to shine.  And somehow that brings me joy – enabling people to reach their potential.

·         Well, that explains why there are so many teachers in our family.

TRUDY: Ja! (Laughs) Exactly!  And really, it’s… it is a calling and it is something that, whether you are in a classroom or not, that ability or that love for showing people the way, showing them how to maximise what’s inside of them, I think it’s … it’s a gift. And it’s a calling… you know you can’t run away from it; you can’t switch it off.

 ·         So, then conversely – who opened doors for you? What opened those doors for you?

TRUDY:  So there’s a theme, a thread throughout all of this, which is: I often don’t see – and maybe again it’s a universal thing, and maybe it’s very much a woman thing – I often don’t see what other people see in me. And you know that, when you asked me about the interview, my first thought was like, “Whaaaat?” Like, you know, maybe I should recommend somebody else. But it’s always that kind of… we don’t see it ... you know, we don’t see ourselves the way others do, so who or what opened doors for me -  it was always someone else giving me an opportunity. When I taught at primary school, I was given an opportunity to become Head of Department.  I would never have gone for that, because I didn’t see myself in that way. When I moved out of teaching in the state system, I taught TEFL – Teaching English As A Foreign Language. The owner of one of the schools I taught at gave me so many opportunities, you know, so that I could go up in the ranks and move into management. They spotted leadership qualities in me which I just took for granted. You know, you always think that everyone is capable in the way that you are, but more so.

And then I would say, musically - definitely the musicians I’ve worked with. Ja, the first person I worked with professionally in music was Eddie Petersen.  He now lives abroad, in Australia, I think, or New Zealand.  We worked together for… I don’t know if it was two years… but that was the first time I actually played on a regular basis with someone, went to rehearsals, etc. And we got gigs where we got paid and were hired for a long stint at different places … and that was fun, it was new, it was interesting. And at that stage, I wasn’t playing my guitar at the gigs. I was the vocalist, so I was the … you know how these typical band things are, where the men play the instruments and the woman stands in front and sings. (Theresa: The eye candy, ja!)

At that stage, I was … I fitted into that category. And then later on, I …. I took a break from gigging when I got married. And when I came back into performing, I decided that I needed to do it on my own terms. I think I’d grown up a bit. And when I came back into performing, I wanted to be part of a duo, and I formed a duo with Keith Tabisher, a friend of mine from high school. And that was in 2003 and we still play together – we still work together. And Keith comes from a classical music background, as well as jazz. And he is extremely versatile - he’s an educator, he’s a youth developer in his community. I’ve learnt so much from him. I love making music with him, and we hope that’s going to carry on for a long time.

                                 Keith Tabisher and I, at a wedding in 2013/ Photo: Shireen Louw 

A few years later, I met another guitarist who made a big impression on me, and that was Wayne Bosch. But Eddie, Keith Tabisher, Wayne Bosch – ja, those are three of the main people who opened doors for me, musically. And I will talk about others later.

                                             Wayne Bosch & I at St George's Cathedral, 2018

                                                                 Photo: Gregory Franz              

  

Woman Zone - Finding Herself - Podcast Interview - Part 1 of 4

 TRANSCRIPT OF WOMAN ZONE INTERVIEW WITH TRUDY RUSHIN, PART OF ‘FINDING HERSELF’ PODCAST SERIES (DEC. 2020)

INTERVIEWER: THERESA SMITH

GENERAL INTRODUCTION BY NANCY RICHARDS:

Finding Herself- sharing the journey. With music by Trudy Rushin and technical support by Wayne Van de Bergh.  This episode has been kindly sponsored by Cape Midwife Natural Birth – believe in yourself.

INTRODUCTION OF GUEST, BY THERESA SMITH

That lovely voice you just heard, that provides the introduction to this Woman Zone Finding Herself series, is that of Trudy Rushin – singer, songwriter, philanthropist, teacher, feminist.  The daughter of Eoan Group opera singer, May Abrahamse, never set out to follow in her mother’s footsteps, but as relationships, children and basically life happened, she learnt to love the process and became more confident in her own musical abilities.

·         I am Theresa Smith of Woman Zone and I asked Trudy what is the difference between how she defines who she is and what she does.

TRUDY: There’s definitely a difference, because I think who you are is always true – is true for all time – but what you do is … circumstantial? Or it can be related to a job you have at a particular time.  So, how I define who I am – I would say I’m a South African woman, a feminist, a mother, a musician, a writer, an educator and a communicator. And if I were to place myself anywhere politically, I would say I’m a socialist.

What I do, as I said that … that’s often linked to one’s job. Ja, so that changes. So who I am is sort of like the foundation of everything that I do, you know?

 ·         What did you hope or plan to be when people first started asking you that question? You know - like, “What you gonna be when you grow up?”

TRUDY: My mother says that when I was a little child and they asked me that, I would say I wanted to be a mother – or a “mommy”- and a teacher. And I suppose you could say I have achieved my goal (giggles) – goals.

You know, I actually, I’ve been looking through … you, know, thinking about these things, and so on – I don’t think I’m ambitious, in the normal use of the word. It’s partly my personality – mainly my personality – and partly circumstantial. Having said as much, I definitely am a goal setter: I set goals, but I think I’m one of those people who love the process as much as I love achieving the goal, so … but I’m not ambitious in a way where I can say, “I plotted my career.” It was more like, I was open to what life sent my way.   

 ·         But you … you had this idea of becoming a teacher, which I know you did end up doing, but you never ever set the goal for yourself: I’m going to be a musician, like my mother. And yet you are a musician now.

TRUDY: Ja ….. that is one of the ways in which that like being open to what life sent my way manifested. When I look back now, music has been my parallel career, no matter what I’ve done. You know it… the music has always been there. And I’ve tended to not see myself as a musician, because people define you according to your day job, but that’s been the constant, you know.

 ·         How did that journey - that musical journey – how did that actually start?

TRUDY: Well when I was six years old, apparently I loved singing then already, because my teacher made me stand on a table and sing for the School Inspectress.  I was at Laerskool Heideveld, for the first six months of my primary school life, and the song was “Ek Doen Dit Als Vir Jesus”. Singing, at age six, standing on the table, for this teacher who wanted to show you off to the Inspectress, and then singing in Afrikaans, which was not my mother tongue – it must’ve been cute, but I think I was terrified.

You know, as children, we took piano lessons, like most people - you know … from our community -  did, but in my teens I started playing the guitar and that started the real journey for me. Ja, the guitar is my instrument of choice and that’s been my… like my baby, all these years. 

 

Nassau Hall, Newlands, Cape Town

Photo: Gregory Franz

Staying alive - Lockdown Day 329

Having taken to crocheting as a way of getting through the Covid-19 pandemic, I’ve consumed a lot more media than before, because I watch online media while I crochet. It passes the time, entertains me and sometimes – depending on what I watch - educates and inspires me.

Last week, I watched a Brené Brown documentary on Netflix, called The Call to Courage.  One of the things she said was, “I get so busy, sometimes, chasing the extraordinary moments that I don’t pay attention to the ordinary moments – the moments that, if taken away, I would miss more than anything.”

Firstly, you should know that when I watch a documentary, I have my journal and pen at hand, to jot down things that make an impression on me. This was one of those things.

I started nodding and thinking about the ways in which this topic had been presenting, recently. On a personal level, it’s when my children - now in their 20s - talk about their childhood memories: the things they remember with love (and often laughter) are the everyday things - the family routines, the skew fringe cuts I gave them, the delicious chocolate cakes at every birthday that were made with a ready-made cake-mix, the songs we sang at bedtime, the music we played in the car, the way they fought over who’d sit in the front passenger seat until we came up with a system…. The best memories are of the ordinary moments. Yes, the extraordinary moments do form part of our memories, but without them we wouldn’t remember our lives any less richly.

If I think about my own childhood, I remember my mom sitting in bed, memorising arias for a stage performance, or sing-alongs around the family piano, when we lived in Durban. I remember, at age six, going to my first day of primary school, feeling bereft when my sister had to go to her class, and being shocked that my teacher had a huge, maroon manila envelope with my name on it. How did she know my name?! :-) Other Durban memories (age 6 and a half to 11) include going to our church’s youth club and making tie-dye T-shirts with a young, vibey youth leader, picking green mangoes and eating them with a mixture of curry powder and salt, and regularly walking to the local swimming pool, about one and a half kilometres away, with a bunch of neighbourhood kids. I remember attention being given to my accent when we were new in Durban and again when we returned to Cape Town, four and a half years later.

Yes, I could probably write a whole blog about the extraordinary moments, but the point is they fall into a different category for a reason: they are rare and we often only became aware of them as extraordinary in hindsight.

Another thing that was triggered for me about ordinary moments was the way in which people acknowledge deceased loved ones. During this pandemic, we have all experienced more deaths than at any other time – whether people we knew directly or the loved ones of people we know. On a daily basis, we read messages on social media of yet another person who has succumbed to the virus. (In fact, over the festive season, I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I went off Facebook for a while.) And yes, sometimes people do indeed write about the extraordinary accomplishments of their deceased relatives, but most of the time the memories shared are of the ways in which the person touched others’ lives through everyday acts of kindness, words of wisdom or just their general capacity to include and accept everyone. Sometimes it’s about the food the person cooked, or their favourite flowers.  

One of the things I’ve been working on, probably for more years than I’d like to admit, is to stop comparing myself with others. I am unique. You are unique. We don’t have to look like each other, be interested in the same things or be good at the same things. I hate it when my uniqueness is found unacceptable because I don’t subscribe to a certain assumed norm. Imagine how peaceful, courageous, creative and happy we’d be if we accepted ourselves fully, without focussing on the bits we’re told should be more this or less that? Oprah once said something like this: “Why are women always shoulding all over themselves?” Funny, but true. There’s a context, of course - men don’t have half the prescriptions placed on them that women do, both in the workplace and in broader society.

I am unique, and perfectly acceptable with all my flaws. I know the theory so well. But we live in a world that bombards us with messages that equate success with being not just “better than”, but “the best”. If we’re not running our own companies and employing loads of people by a certain age, or haven’t written a book, or haven’t appeared in a magazine, or are actually showing visible signs of ageing after being alive almost 60 years, we’re somehow lacking. But you know what? Sometimes success is a lot less glamorous than what we’re encouraged to believe. Sometimes it’s choosing to stay alive and keep living your truth, despite successive traumatic experiences. Or staying in your not-dream job, because you have a family to support. Or being able to pay your rent for an entire year, without defaulting once. Or being a loyal friend, in a world where trust is easily broken and deception has become the norm. For some people, plagued by depression and anxiety, success can be just getting out of bed, taking a shower and facing another day.     

And so, on Lockdown Day 329 (in South Africa) of this unusual and devastating time in our lives, I’m going to continue following the safety regulations and trying to avoid contracting the virus. At the same time, I will continue trying to function optimally in the different parts of my life. But I can assure you that, whenever I’m not “on duty”, as either an employee or someone who runs a home, with all that that entails, I will most probably be sitting somewhere, on my own, either playing my guitar or crocheting and watching something. Keeping it simple. Keeping it real. Keeping it creative. Staying alive and sane, during a pandemic.

Right now, more than ever, it's the ordinary things that are keeping me going - one day at a time, one song at a time, one crocheted row at a time, one blanket at a time. This makes sense to me. This brings me joy. 

As long as you do no harm to yourself, to anyone else, or to Mother Nature, do whatever makes sense to you. 

It’s not a competition.     

Recovering - Lockdown Day 318

I'm recovering from a bout of illness that started on the evening of Friday 29 January. It became so severe, with a series of symptoms that looked so much like Covid-19, that a week later I ended up going for a test. Fortunately, about 25 hours later, I got a negative test result. Still taking meds to address the symptoms, some of which have abated, I can only conclude that I had stomach flu, which progressed to normal flu.

The thing is - I can't remember ever feeling that sick. Either my memory's failing me, or I really have just experienced the harshest bout of flu I've ever had. I was so weak, that I just lay in bed for days. In the first few days, I didn't even have energy to crochet, or play my guitar - things I would typically do if I was bedridden for any reason. I basically watched movies and journalled. When I was dealing with the stomach flu, I ate such a restricted diet, that I lost about two kilos in 4 days - which was alarming and extremely draining. I had been watching my diet before, and had been losing about 400g a week, which was fine. Losing weight rapidly when you're sick is not fine, by any means. You feel wrong. 

The thing is that, almost a year after Covid-19 hit our shores, and now that we've just had a very scary and tragic second wave, when you suspect you've contracted the virus, you have very dark thoughts. No matter how high the recovery rate in our country may be (currently, 89%), I still kept thinking about the people I knew who had died from the disease and how shocked their families had been at the speed at which the disease had taken their loved ones. 

My daughter remarked how differently I'd handled this test to the one I'd had in June/July last year. Then, I'd been sharing every thought in my head on Facebook, and I'd basically announced on Fb that I'd had the test, they all knew it took ten days for the results to reach me and all received the announcement that the test had been negative.  This time, I told my immediate family and a few close friends and colleagues that I was sick and kept them informed about the test and the results.  

I had a lot of time to think, last week. A lot of time to re-evaluate my choices and to challenge myself to live the rest of my life unapologetically, with a greater sense of the value I add wherever I am. I came across some inspiring quotes, on the internet, and took them to heart. Movies I watched filled me with a deep sense of the power of women to step out into the world and make a significant difference, doing what brings them joy.

Today, I'm still taking meds, but I can feel my symptoms receding, in response. I'm grateful to my close friends who gave me advice and basically buoyed me, when I was feeling extremely sick and low in spirit. I'm grateful to my children, one of whom lives with me. They are incredibly supportive and compassionate beings who fill my soul with a sense of pride and accomplishment - because of the adults they've  grown into.

Interestingly, one of my greatest worries, when I thought I had Covid, was how it would impact on my daughter. She's in her final year at college and for most of last year had to do her courses remotely. The nett effect was that she feels like she missed a year. I can see how important this year is to her and I hated the thought of my sickness causing her to isolate and miss more college time. Anyway, for now that's not necessary. 

Another weird thing about when I got sick was that that day I'd had a one-on-one training session with my fitness coach (I usually train in a small group) and had done a particularly hard workout, which had made me feel ecstatic about my steadily increasing fitness. I journalled that night about my running goals and how I could see myself getting there, with regular training, a goal-oriented mindset and a sensible diet. And then, later that night, my stomach turned inside out and my world upside down. 

Anyway ...... I'm well on the road to recovery. Tomorrow I'll resume work - from my lounge, at home - and start wrapping my head around whatever I missed out on last week. 

Oh, another very interesting thing, which I can only attribute to a healthier state of mind than before (or maybe just the clearer perspective of a 59-year-old): I did NOT feel guilty about taking sick leave. In the corporate world, there's a tacit understanding that, when you're off sick, you'll be checking and replying to work emails, and maintaining some kind of involvement in your work tasks. I was literally too sick to think about anything other than taking my next meds, forcing myself to eat the next bland meal, drinking enough fluids and getting well again.  That was progress, for me. You don't need to apologise when you get sick and have to miss work. You are human. Humans get sick. Employment contracts make allowance for that. Stop feeling guilty about everything. (Me talking to myself.)    

Today I have a whole day alone at home. I'm about to take meds and get back into bed. I am now busy crocheting a blanket which I will donate to the 67 Blankets for Mandela Project. The idea was to use leftover wool, but I love symmetry so much, I can see myself going to buy a few more balls of the colours I've started with. This is the 6th blanket I've done since lockdown started, and I'm very happy to have reconnected with this side of myself.  I suppose you could say I'm hooked. 😉     

                   An original drawing given to me by my friend, Sass Schultz, many years ago. ❤ 

Highest daily COVID-19 stats in South Africa (7Jan21)

The latest update on daily COVID-19 statistics in South Africa shows an increase of 21,832 positive cases and 844 deaths!!! I can't even begin to express how I feel - I have a heavy heart - a deep, deep sadness. Hospitals are so full of COVID patients, that they're postponing non-urgent admissions. All I know is we have to move to a stricter lockdown level, as a matter of urgency, in order to stop the alarming rate of infection. This is the highest ever set of daily figures, since COVID hit our shores, in March 2020. I think that the only reasons the government has delayed the inevitable are that it was the festive season (and there's sentimentality around Christmas and families being together, which includes travelling between provinces and to neighbouring countries) and that the economy had taken such a hit, during the first wave, that they were giving companies more time to try to recover, before re-imposing a higher level of lockdown. I seriously hope the latest statistics show that this alarming loss of life merits Level 5 lockdown. I am painfully aware that it could mean further job losses, and that very few people who are mere employees are safe - including me. 

My daughter and I were doing diaries, earlier, where we share our plans for the next week or two and record the details in our respective diaries. At this stage, I'm still the only driver, we have only one car, so I'm always involved in her trips outside of the house. With my job starting up again in 4 days and my daughter due to start her final year at college about two weeks later, I can't help wondering what we're really going to be facing, this year. So much uncertainty.

I was appalled at what happened in the US, yesterday - pro-Trump protesters stormed Capitol Hill, entering the building and causing havoc, as they tried to stop the final signing of the acceptance of Joe Biden as the new President. Four deaths resulted. Fortunately, the politicians involved got together and signed the document at a subsequent sitting, but what happened last night surely has to be the all-time low of Trump's presidency. Consistently inappropriate to the end, in his televised address to the protesters, he gave oxygen to the fake news that there had been huge irregularities in the recent elections and that he had in fact been cheated out of a landslide victory. Instead of admonishing them sternly and letting them know they'd broken the law, he told them that he loved them and that they were special. At least we agree on that - they are, indeed, special.  

I think I'll stick to playing my guitar and crocheting blankets.    

Thoughts of gratitude, on New Year's Day / Lockdown Day 281

We all talk about how challenging this year has been, owing to the COVID-19 pandemic, and we're generally aware that some people have suffered much more than others, either because of their socio-economic circumstances (i.e. historically and politically disadvantaged, predominantly based on 'race'), because they incurred hardship as a result of loss of income, or because their families were affected by illness or death.

As I type this post, my thoughts are with a dear friend who lost her beloved husband to COVID, in the early hours of this morning. No words can adequately express the feelings one has when this happens. Earlier this year, another dear friend of many years also lost her husband, after a heart attack. In both cases, these were happy couples - people who loved each other deeply and celebrated being together. My heart breaks at the thought of their loss and sadness. 

Gratitude

Today I am grateful that my entire family survived 2020. My mom turned 90 in May and we couldn't have the planned family gathering, because of lockdown. But she's fine - despite having Alzheimer's, she's quite well, physically. 

I am grateful that my children continued to work towards their goals. My daughter completed her third year at college and has one year to go and my son changed his original plans entirely and seems to be on an exciting path of his choice.  

I am grateful that I remained employed throughout 2020, at a time when many companies were forced to retrench staff or even shut down, owing to the pandemic. I've had two periods of unemployment, in my life, and know the havoc it can wreak, including the psychological impact. 

Along the same vein, I am grateful that I have had a safe and comfortable place in which to live, for another year. I've been renting this house for almost 24 years, the longest I've lived in one place, and it's my safe space. This is home. I understand that change is a big part of life, especially when you're renting, but I'll deal with that when it's time. For now - thank you, Landlord, and thank you, Universe.

I am grateful that working from home was not only possible, for me, but that it made my whole life work more smoothly. I am definitely one of those people who discovered the joy of working from home.  I found that, as someone who runs a home, working from home meant I could manage my time in such a way that I fitted both my job and home commitments in, throughout the day, completing both without stress. It was such a difference to what I'd done before - getting up at some ungodly hour, going through a whole morning routine, before leaving the house to sit in peak traffic for at least an hour, to drive to my job 20km away, sitting in an air-conditioned office for at least 8 hours, and then sitting in peak traffic for at least another hour. After all of that, I'd get home, exhausted, and have to start cooking the evening meal, as well as fit in any other housework I could manage and try to squeeze in any personal things, like journalling, or playing my guitar. At the start of lockdown, I think I'd just heard people mentioning Zoom, but had no idea what it was. Now, I'm comfortable on a few virtual meeting platforms.

I'm grateful that in the many free hours at home, when we couldn't leave our homes, outside of working hours, I rediscovered my love for crocheting and knitting, and completed quite a few items during the year. I also rediscovered my love for gardening and have been planting small flowering plants,  lovingly nurturing them and enjoying watching them thrive.

There's so much more I could write, but I'm watching the time, as my daughter and I have today all nicely planned, so that we can fit in a few important things. Two items on today's agenda are some driving practice for her and an exercise workout for us both. Today we'll dance and do yoga. Two days ago, we did an outdoor training session with our fitness trainer. Ooh, that's another thing I'm grateful for - despite how low I felt, a lot of the time, I kept exercising. I didn't quite reach my goal of 120 workouts for the year, but I think 109 isn't bad at all, right?! Early in October, we started working out with a trainer, which has been wonderful. We train on a big, open field, with beautiful trees along the perimeter. When we don't train there, we do workouts at home. I love dancing, and in 2020 I started doing yoga, as well. 

I have ten more days of annual leave, so I'm sure I'll be doing more writing.

In South Africa, we've moved back to Level 3 of Lockdown, as the second wave has hit us much harder than the first. It's been declared a criminal offence to be in public without a mask, so please make sure you mask up. And don't forget the other two - wash/sanitise your hands and maintain social distance.     

Stay safe!