Proudly South African mum to a bright and gorgeous young human. Employee. Life Coach in the making. Blogger. Fascinated with and passionate about people and helping them grow.
Gratitude is like food for the soul. I am celebrating 2023 by spending each day in December reflecting on and, being grateful for, my blessings this year. Join me. Perhaps you will be inspired to do the same.
Wow, here we are again. Day 1 of the final month of the year. I have so much to reflect on and lots to be grateful for.
2023 has been a journey like no other. A few dreams have come true. Some are on their way there. The losses have been learnings and the near misses have been eye openers. I mean where do I even begin?
Let’s start at the beginning. Reaching 50 has been a wonderful blessing. I said that my 50’s are going to be my best decade yet at the beginning of this year and it has definitely started well! I feel like this year I really came into myself. I still have lots of work to do but I have never been as comfortable in my own skin or as happy to be as I have been this year.
Image: Canva
The reality is that not much has changed materially in my world but I have changed and that has made all the difference.
I have walked this earth for 50 years. So many major historical events have taken place over this time.
Let me start back in 1981. The Royal Wedding. I was in grade 3 and we were so excited. My teacher had brought a TV to school so that we could watch. It was like watching a fairytale come to life,
I remember the newspaper reports detailing the sheer euphoria of the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. It blew everyone’s minds!
In February 1990, it was South Africa’s turn! Nelson Mandela was released from prison. I was in matric (grade 12) and suddenly the world was my oyster. I remember my friend and I going to Wimpy (a family restaurant chain) as often as possible because now we could actually sit inside the restaurant and eat. The following year, I was able to attend what was traditionally a white’s only tertiary institution. It was fascinating to go to class with people of different races all of I sudden.
I remember standing in the queue with my mother to cast my vote on the 27th April 1994. It was a sunny day. I voted at the voting station in the suburb where I grew up. It was so exciting to be a part of history! I remember seeing the long winding queues at voting stations around the country on TV that day. . It was an amazing day. Democracy had officially arrived in South Africa. I have voted in every election since because I treasure this very precious right to vote that so many fought and died for.
Do you remember where you were on September 11 2001? I was at work. It was after 3pm and my boyfriend called to tell me that a plan had hit the towers. Then he called to say a second plan had hit. He was at home sitting mesmerised in front of the tv. I got home before the towers collapsed. We, like the rest of the world, were in shock. We were horrified at what had just happened. I think the horror of that event is seared in our collective memories.
I’ll end with that truly sad day on the 31st August 1997 when the news broke that Princess Diana had died. It was a cold, wet Sunday morning. Our hearts were broken. The beautiful fairytale princess of my childhood was no more.
This is just a taste of those historical events that are imprinted in my memory. No doubt there will be lots more to come. What events have been imprinted on your memory?
I had been feeling out of sorts for the past 3-4 weeks. I wasn’t sure why. This past weekend it suddenly hit me what the problem was or at least I thought I did.
As it turns out, a person came in to my life a few months ago and, unintentionally, reminded me of a space I found myself in at one point. I felt so guilty at the time but things worked out brilliantly (largely) so I thought I was done with that period in my life. Suddenly, here it was, gnawing away at my conscience a little at a time. About 2 weeks ago I found myself in a situation which really set my alarm bells off and made me stop and think about what was really going on.
I spent a day or two just contemplating it all. I sat and spoke it through with a very good friend and in the process, the real issue, came to the surface. I had buried it so deep and overlaid it with a story that worked for me. I told myself I felt guilty about it but that wasn’t true . That belief in my guilt, that story that I told myself, has kept me trapped in the past and living in fear of consequences that are never going to happen for so long.
I cried as spoke to my friend. I cried because I realised that the thing that was really bugging me was that the one person I thought would be the last to judge me, was the only one who did. We were in it together. We chose to act together in a moment of time and then suddenly I was the bad person for taking the action with them but they were not. They refused to accept responsibility for their actions and laid the blame at my door. Not only did they blame me but they hurled the most devastating insults at me. Their insults made me question my worth as a human being and they made sure they insulted me every chance they got. Even though I knew that their behaviour was coming from a place of pain within themselves and, that I shouldn’t let it bother me, I clearly internalised it anyway. I was devastated then and it still hurts when I think of it now to be honest but at least now I know where the issue lies and I feel liberated.
Image: Canva
The reality is that the person that unintentionally acted as the trigger (let’s call them Lex), is also someone who has brought so much positivity in my life. I love the person that I get to see through their eyes. She is pretty awesome! 🙂 Perhaps that’s what really freaked me out, I have finally met another human being who I really respect, admire and enjoy and I treasure the connection that I have with them. I used to treasure my connection with the person who turned on me too which is why their harsh judgement of me hurt so much. I don’t want Lex to turn around and judge me in the same way one day.
I guess the moral of the story is that I need to accept that for every action I take, there will be consequences. Some good, some bad and some will be really bad. Every choice I make must be made with an acceptance that I will not have control over those consequences but I will have control over how I react and what I take from the experience. At the end of the day, even though it felt like that whole episode broke me at the time, the reality is that it didn’t. I am stronger and, now that I am actually working through it, a little wiser. 🙂
During our conversation, my friend taught me about the word Tawakkul which essentially speaks to putting your trust and faith in God in Arabic. She reminded me that it is not for me to question but rather to accept and surrender to the situations I find myself in. Everything is working out for my good all the time even when it looks like it may not. I might just make the word Tawakkul my next tattoo as a reminder to do whats in my control but leave the rest to God’s grace.
Grounded African 