Being in a new country with a foreign language, far removed
from my well-established peeps who know me well and require no introduction,
those loved ones who remind you of who you are and why you’re lovable...
becoming a new mommy and experiencing chronic sleep deprivation and the
indescribable loneliness that comes with baby-tending in their first 100%
dependent year... I have kind of lost touch with my essence. I remember vaguely
that I used to have some features that made me unique and/or special (well, in
the eyes of those that love me back or employed me!) but I cannot for the life
of me remember what they were/are! DJ and JJ, who bestowed the privilege of
motherhood on me, leave me feeling rather ineffective at the best of times,
bless their hearts!
So... its time to do what I know is good for me... write and
read more. In today’s blog I solemnly swear to myself to FIND and MAKE time to
blog every other day, even if it is just a few words, in the hopes of finding
my crux again, what makes me tick, to find order in my thoughts, and to
reconstruct my dreams in my new setting.
I don’t know how long my life is going to be, and I want DJ and JJ to
also be able to read about me, their mother and their greatest fan forever, who
is also a human being having her own imitable experience and response to it.
Just last night, I accidentally washed a disposable nappy
with the laundry load in the washing machine. Last night I wanted to go to bed
early as the night before was decidedly sleepless due to JJ being soaked and DJ
being restless.
So, I did an evening load, possible thanks to a tumble dryer
in the attic, which is an essential for at least half of the year here in
Hamburg. When the load was done, I was just going to transfer it to the dryer
and hit that pillow... but nay, trillions of gel beads from an exploded nappy
had to be rinsed from the clothes; cleaned from the washing machine and removed
from the kitchen floor. I did consult Professor Google, and despite the bad
rap, I thank God for Professor Google... because not only did I get tips on how
to clean up this mess and save the equipment, I also realized that I am not the
only mommy who has done this. I am not alone. I am not an idiot. Well, I am not
the only idiot. I am talented in making extra work for myself, somehow, thanks
to an innate clumsiness that has followed me through life.
Which brings me to my next crossed thought for today...
whilst realizing how my blogging subject scope has expanded thanks to my
broadening life experience... my mind was cast back to Cape Town where I was a
new graduate and struggling to find a job. I did some soul searching and
aptitude tests to see where my strengths and interests lay in the hopes that I
would find work channels best suited to me. One thing I have always been
renowned for, in my friendships and the workplace, is that I am an uplifter (and
I don’t even think this word exists). I have a bubbly personality in my natural
state, and I like to make people feel good. I definitely carry a childlike
innocence with me, even at the ripe old age of 44. It becomes clear when I am
reminded of my prudishness... when I see an upsetting image or scene on social
media or telly or Netflix, which these days remains far too explicit for me...
and how it distresses me to the core! I
like people to be happy. I don’t like anyone to be sad or hurting. Perhaps
stemming from bullying at school (the innocents always get picked on), I
vehemently defend the underdog and remain an ardent advocate for the fragile
psyche. I like to remind people of what’s good in them, because I see it so
easily and why not bring it to the fore? Would the world not be a better place?
Back to Cape Town, fresh out of university and job-seeking... I came across a
company who provided motivational speaking services. I considered this and
together with my public speaking skills I figured it would be an excellent fit
for me, and I would love it and the meaningfulness it promised. I went to speak to someone and they asked me
a few questions: like, had I been abused or raped? Involved in violent crime?
Am I disfigured or handicapped in any way? If not, then I don’t fit the bill of
a motivational speaker. I needed to have had something really horrible happen
to me to be an inspiration to others. Read that again! At that time, I found
this hard to understand. Now, decades later, I can sort of grasp what they were
getting at... that a more mature person with more life behind them, and
experiences that would set most off course, would be more credible, relational,
and perhaps effective as a motivational speaker. But still, I don’t believe we
only get called-to-action by shock therapy, so to speak – by odious comparisons
and that some people are far worse off than us, and thriving and making the
best of life despite and in spite of it. This could well put us all on a
subconscious guilt trip, and we all know what guilt makes us do. I think we
actually need to shake this habit of comparing, because it’s an addiction. We
shall need to compare perpetually to keep calibrating our compasses, and just
as our fingerprints, no one is the same and no self-perceived trauma or problem
is better or worse or more or less important than another’s. In Dr Suess’ words, ‘Today you are You, and
that’s Truer than True, and there’s no one alive who’s more Youer than You!”
Now, read that again! Why are good friendships more important than anything in
this world? Because true friends are uplifters. They remind you that you are
just perfectly human as you, and you are lovable and important to them, and
that... above all else, gives purpose and meaning to your life.
So... all the tangents of this post aside (and I don’t have
the luxury of time to be a perfectionist here, so it’s slap down and post!), I
just want shout out to my friends, familial, old and new, present, occasionally
present and less occasionally present but pick-up-where-we-left-off present...
thank you for uplifting me. Loving you IS the true purpose and meaning of my
Life. The rest is livelihood; system entrenching, day-to-day, also-a-number,
mortal to-do stuff; but you are the beat in my heart muscle and the spike in my
ECG.
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