An Ode to MaLange (My Mother)

My mother is the first person I met. She held me against her chest after hours of painful labour. I was confused by all the noise and the latex covered hands that poked and prodded at me, but her touch must have felt familiar in the midst of the chaos. She taught me that the burning in my belly was hunger and she knew exactly how to ease and nourish the yearning.

My mother taught me intimacy as she held me to her breast and gazed lovingly into my eyes. I must have reached up my hand because I knew even then that she adored me and I wanted to touch the love that seemed to emmerse me.

My mother taught me how to be brave. How could I not be when she stood at the other end of the room arms stretched out and joy in her eyes as she waited for me to take my first steps?

Mom taught me to be responsible. She sent me back to school to find my lost school jersey once. It was a while before I lost my belongings after that!

My mother gently cleaned my skinned knees even though she told me a thousand times not to run around without my shoes on.

My mother taught me about Jesus. She nudged me in His direction every single Sunday, evening devotions were a non-negotiable and conversations with Him were a must.

My mom told me that no matter what I decided to be when I grew up, she would support and encourage me. She cried rivers of tears for me as she brought my life before Jesus... Come to think of it, every day to this day, she brings me to the feet of Jesus in prayer.

My mom is my biggest fan. She cries when I cry, laughs when I laugh and forever invades my space so that I never forget how deeply I am loved by her.

I thank you, Lord Jesus for the beautiful women that You helped to bring us into the world. I thank you that you compel them to stay on their knees for us and for the unexplainable, unconditional and immovable love they have for us. Happy Mother's Day.

Morning Has Broken

Every morning without fail I wake up in the early hours. My mind takes a look at its surroundings; it dawns on me. I'm yearning and my thirst has not been satisfied.

I fumble around for the tv remote. I know sleep will not return until I have to get up and face the day. If I'm honest with myself, I chose to be here. I chose a life where I measure myself with the back of a teaspoon. I didn't mean to. I wish we could see further down the road before we make a decision. I'd like to think we would choose differently if we foresaw what lay ahead. I think I would not have chosen you. I would've run away. I can't say being here was worth it, I mean, what have I achieved and how have I grown? I'm Benjamin Buttoning. I don't feel. I keep 2 arms lengths away;  from everyone.

But you're here too. Was the road you chose worth it? Do you look at where you are and desperately laqaza for an exit? Why did you stay here as long as you have? Did you imagine you would walk with me as long as you have? Did you plan to reduce me to this? Would you have chosen differently if you knew I would become this? Why did you even come? Nevermind, I know why you came.

I miss feeling, though. I want to feel again. I want to be free of you but I fear that even if I break away, I will look longingly over my shoulder and I will come back. Do you look over yours at me? Do you wish you were here and not there?

I long for the day when I can sleep all night and spend my whole day with no thought of you, but you linger everywhere; not just the corners of my mind but the nooks of my heart too. I didn't choose you. I didn't decide to put you there, but you drifted in subtly. You have made your home here. You are the furniture in the room. You are solid. I should redecorate my heart but I love the furniture... Stay because I want you to. Stay because you want to. Stay for both of us. Stay...

Up the scale

The moment he walked into my matchbox house, it hit me. "Please will you open this container of home stewed peaches. It's really tight!" single girl problems- we see men for one thing only; opening tightly closed things and lifting heavy objects if there's nothing broken to fix in the house. But that is a blog for another day.

While I made myself lunch before we headed out, he mused over my 3 guitars, "Do you play these?" he asked. "No, they're just decorations", I roll my eyes in response. Why do they always ask such silly questions, I wonder. He picked up my red steel string, sat down and began to pick. "Oh yeah, you used to play base!" I said. "Yup", he responded as he picked the A major scale.  SCALES!! I NEED TO LEARN SCALES!!! I told him that he had to teach me how to play that because I needed to grow musically.

"Each finger stays in a specific fret", he said. The penny finally dropped. I have been yearningly watching people play scales for years and not being able to do it myself and he finally taught me!

I have a new fire in me now. I've been practising for 10 minutes every day -30 minutes is too long ok! - Of course my fingers look like awkward claws on the fret, but practise makes permanance and already I can see some improvement. I'm trying my hand on Nina Simone's My Baby Just Cares For Me and it's actually quite doable! Yay, me!

I'm so glad I'm out of my rut! I was starting to worry that I'd lost my love for the 6 string...

The Circus

As I feel the last of my period ooze out of me, here are some thoughts on some things  I hate most about the red robot....

I can handle most of the period hassles. I can handle the stains, the suprise visits, the heavy flow, the blood clots and the beloved cramps. What I can't handle, what I really can't handle, is the emotional rollercoaster that happens about a week before the circus comes to town. I hate that with a thousand hates!

I cry and scream all day every day of that week! I cry because he doesn't answer my text back fast enough. I scream because that learner  had the nerve to ask me a question I was about to answer at that very moment. I question my purpose in life when that guy behind me honked at me at the green light when I was about to pull off and I seriously consider packing my bags and starting a new life in another country because people refuse to leave me alone! Don't get me started on the coitus. All I want is coitus from anyone or anything that will give me the time of day! I also feast on chocolate like it's the only food source on the planet.

PMS is really the pits and no amount of painkillers, hanky panky or strange snacks makes that week before better. All you can do is curl up into a fetal position and wait it out.

Friends Forever!

There are different types of people that come in and out of our lives. There are those that leave because you outgrow each other and those that stay usually do so because you choose each other.

And then there  are those that walk in and stay by accident. Karolien is that friend. We played in bands together at university. We never really moved in the same circles, but we always got along relatively well. When university days came to an end, she was the last person I expected to still have in my life 5 years later. It started with daily google chat conversations when we both hated our jobs and lived for our google translate conversations that varied from French to German! In retrospect she really got me through those 15 months. We had an opportunity to catch up today; see each other again for the first time in years.

I walk away now so grateful to have her as a friend and grateful for such flukes in life. We don't always know who is best to have in our lives. It's nice to have certain people that we have no choice in having.

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

"Drink from that wishing well but may it never quench your thirst."

 I hate this concept because it encourages us to keep desiring more from our lives. But when you want more it's usually out of dissatisfaction with how your life is in the moment. It's the dissatisfaction that I hate. On the seventh day, God looked at everything he had made and said that is was good.He was satisfied. Sure, it was really the beginning of huge disasters that He knew were coming, but in that moment, He was satisfied. I don't want to be God (obviously) but I want to be able to look over my life and say the same thing. I want to be satisfied with the way things are in all the different aspects of my life and to make changes based on a desire to tweak what is already there. I am nowhere near this point because I feel there are too many big changes that I still need to make. I'd like my thirst to be quenched in that sense and the continued thirst to be about smaller things; things that will not leave me anxious because  I haven't changed them.

I hate discomfort. I hate constant change. I hate that I have not yet arrived where I'd like to be. I hate that I am constantly restless. Take that away and I think I will function better and enjoy my life a bit more than I am right now. I'm rambling again...

Sleep

I wrote this last year in an attempt to romanticise what has now become my nemesis. Every day I wake up in the wee hours of the morning - wide awake.

Sleep deprives me.
Thoughts crowding my head.
So many hours lay ahead.

Ahead. I thought I was moving ahead.
Now I'm five steps lagging.
Ahead is now actually behind...

What lays behind me, I'll one day say out loud.
Alternatively, I'll always hold it inside in hope that someday, I'll forget...

Forget. It's easy to forget what I mean to you.
Have I forgotten or have you just not told me yet?

Yet through it all, He sees it all, knows it all and will take me through it all
It's all for my deer feet.

An Open Letter

Dear Married Gym Instructer

I'm sorry I didn't respond positively to you rubbing my chin, smiling and winking at me flirtatiously. You may have chalked it down to me being too serious but hey, that's me.

Just because I am "too serious" though does not give you permission to ignore me in your classes. Please understand that I'm not trying to flirt with you to make up for the awkwardness you caused with your gesture.

Believe it or not, I go to gym so that I can tone my body and have a little fun. Yes, there is a rather fetching young man in my Monday spinning class but I promise I don't attend this class for him. In fact, in the last two weeks he has not been to that class and I still attend.

Because I rejected you that one time many months ago, I feel that your bruised ego could not and cannot handle my continuous attandance of your classes. That is not my problem. I don't attend for your amusement. Yes, you may look at my bum as I do your squats. I have no control over that and there are usually ten other women doing the same thing so I grin and bare it.

You being able to look and not touch is not my problem either. I hate that you can look and you hate that you can't touch so I guess we're even.

Do me a favour, though. When I have a problem during your class, it is your job to help me, not shrug your shoulders and watch the rest of the class in disregard. That will make me angry!

I have many things in my life that make me angry.  Sometimes it's plain and simple PMS but please do not make yourself one of them. I go to gym to let off a bit of steam, not to be sexually harrassed.

Yours sincerely
Disgruntled Gym Member

Me, Not New Girl

I wish my life was a serries. It takes 40 minutes to solve life's  problems and  it is done one problem at a time. I often feel like I'm swimming in many problems at once or rather one problem spills into another ( because my problems are in compartments, of course) and contaminates it. I watched an episode of New Girl this morning and that Jessica Day made a life changing decision in just 20 minutes and in the very next episode solved a sibling problem she had had in just one deep and meaningful conversation!

Serries have a nice way of tying sections of one's life up with a neat little bow while I, in real life,  go back and reopen that little box within a bigger box called my past and feast on its toxins all over again.

It's official. I need to spend less of my leisure time watching television because  it makes me set very unrealist expectations for myself and let's be honest, no teacher is as strange as Jessica Day!

How to Go to Gym

After I was rebuked for my complaints about living alone, I decided to join the gym if only to get out of the house. The plan wasn't to get skinny but to be able to walk into my jeans not to negotiate my jiggly bits in there.

I was lucky to bump into an ex neighbour who showed me the ropes. Rule 1: get a gym buddy! When you slack, they pull you back into gear, ask you where you are and even make suggestions about things to try once there. What I love about gym is that whether you enjoy working out alone or in a group,  you're covered. At first, I just went onto the treadmill followed by a variety of machines that have a kind of gym by pictures so you can't do it wrong, but I love group activities and hearing someone grunting next to me reassuring me that they too feel my anguish.  There's no greater motivation than a fifty something year-old woman doing the same workout as you and not breaking a sweat. You keep going just to maintain your dignity!

The workers are also very friendly and eager to help or suggest exciting classes you can join. Rule 2: Gym was designed for fat, unhealthy people. You are in good company so don't worry about how you look!

Thanks to my gym buddy I found some classes I really enjoyed and soon I wasn't going to gym because I was paying for it or because it's the right thing to do. I actually looked forward to all my classes and felt really good after every single one. Rule 3: find something you really love over there whether it's just a machine or a hectic spin class. That one thing will really keep you coming back!

So after a few months and skipping sometimes a whole week at a time, I decided to broaden my horizons and found myself one class every day of the week that I comitted to trying out. In 2 weeks I was going to gym a minimum of 4 times a week. For just a one hour class. I tricked myself into thinking that it wasn't too much work or commitment but doing what I enjoyed every day.

I also discovered the steam room. Sometimes on a Sunday, I pack a gym bag with a swimsuit and shower kit. I reward myself with a half hour lounge in there. The serenity in that room is priceless and probably the best way to start the week. Rule 4: gym isn't all about hard work but can also be a place to unwind. Take advantage of that. You are paying for it, after all!

All in all I believe that a gym contract has been money well spent and the best part is seeing the results of my labour. So what are you waiting for? Give it a try!

How to Live Alone

Finally, after over a year of wishing to live alone, here I am. I finally got what I wanted and all of a sudden, it seemed like I had all this time on my hands and nothing to do with that time but wonder if I made the right decision. What if I choke on my dinner and die? How long will it take for them to find my body? Which brings me to rule number 1; do NOT overthink it! Your mind will go to very strange places!

There I was, at Joburg Zoo thinking out loud to two married-with-kids colleagues and one of them finally cuts me short and says, "You singles irritate me! You're young. You have no responsibilities but yourselves but what do you do on  Friday nights? Sit at home doing absolutely nothing! Go out! Have a little fun, for goodness sake! You're gonna want these days back when they're gone!" This brings me to rule number 2; don't stay cooped up at home. Going out -  even if it's just to gym  or staying a bit longer at work - makes you appreciate coming home to the serenity of an empty house.

I spent one Sunday  afternoon waiting for my brother to fetch his couch. I nearly burst into tears when he didn't show up. Who was I gonna talk to? My hard drive provides the illusion of interaction, but those people are interacting with each other, not me! Rule number 3; when you are home, don't be too idle. There is plenty to do.Your dishes (I'm sure you have them in the sink!), do your laundry. It wasn't just piling up with ex housemate's clothes, you know! Clean your floor! Whites are not the only ones who shed hair! And cook for yourself for crying out loud! There's no harm in learning to cook smaller portions.

Speaking of watching others interact, rule number 4 - sometimes the silence is good. It's an opportunity to read a book, write and think about your life. You'd really be surprised how much there is to think about and plan for. True story!

So far, these  rules have helped me through the first month of single living. It was hard at first and I still have days when I throw them out the window, curl into  a ball and feel sorry for myself, but slowly the silence doesn't seem so loud anymore and I've realised that this living alone business, it's not bad and it can only get better from here.