The Last letter...

Thought I wouldn’t write you anything, as I it has been clear that what we once shared is gone. I think I tried desperately trying to find out what I did to you to be so cold towards my effort of trying to talk to you. I think in ‘that “process I pushed you further and further away from me.

Maybe you’re not crazy, you’re hurting…

I am not one of those people who like reading between the lines; I would rather be told if there were changes. Nevertheless, in our situation I think I was left with no choice but to take that decision and read between the lines. I have many a times taken the blame of our decomposing   “thing”. It was good while it was good. However, when the time came for one of us to fall out of the wagon it was sad. It was even sadder that you could not own up and be honest that you had fallen out. I on the other side irritated you by trying to help you back on the wagon. Meanwhile you knew that you didn’t want get on it again. I felt bad about trying hard, about giving us a chance and saving what we had. Maybe I seemed unbalanced to you and that scared you, because you thought I was too much in you.

It felt like I was invading your privacy. Moreover, I ended up looking rather stupid or too desperate. Wish time could have warned me about the end, and then I would have kept my foolishness all to myself. I wish I could have listened harder to the dying music, and didn’t keeping on dancing.

Feelings follow Behaviour

Feelings follow Behaviour.

For a while I got puzzled by the thought of which follows the other. At first I thought it would make sense for one to take an action, then react by showing their feelings. Another look at the topic again, put some clarity on how I could look at this interesting topic.

However I thought of my own situation, trying to change behaviour came from the bad feelings I had. Without confusing myself, because I couldn’t control the feeling of talking on the phone, it led me to the compulsive behaviour of wanting to talk on the phone 24/7. I’ll share my Behaviour Modification story of three years ago.

I spoke to my husband about this change I so wanted to make and he agreed to assist and help me with my reinforcements and punishments. So for the next five weeks I’ll keep a journal of my everyday activities regarding my usage of my mobile phone. I explained to my husband about the reinforcements and punishments that had to be in place while I closely watch my change in behaviour. So on a daily bases we decided that the reinforcement might change. But since I do not enjoy travelling by public transport to school, we decided that, if I kept my end of the bargain I would get a lift to school or drive to school. And if not my punishment would be to take a public transport to school, and that would be on a daily bases. I also needed to come up with a substitute for what to do when I got bored. And that was to get an interesting book to read. So instead of wanting to talk on the phone I would read a book, I like the idea.  My weekly reinforcement would be all my efforts during the week and I would receive it on a Sunday. And that might be going out for lunch with my family, instead of cooking lunch or going to the movies on Sunday with a friend or my husband. My weekly punishment if I really didn’t do well overall for that week would be washing the dishes for the following week, every night after my classes.

Feelings and behaviour go hand in hand really.

It is a poor idea to lie to yourself

It is better to practice a little than talk a lot.

When I read this one, first people that came to mind were our dear politicians. How I wish they would rather practice a little and not make all those “lip services”.

I have come to realise one thing, whether we like politics or not, they affect us. Our lives are ran by politicians, oh yes we would all like to believe that we make the ultimate decisions with regards to our lives. I have news for you, your life is run by a politicians. From the day a baby is born government (which by the way is a politician) wants to know the time, date, race and all the itty gritty stuff about you. So that is where it all starts, at some stage your education was decided for you.

What is amazing me in my adulthood is realising just how much they talk and talk and talk. At times I change channels because I get lost in their words, wondering where what they are talking about is. When do they implement what they so love talking about.  To make matter even worse, they become the most creative and poetic people around election time. We are about to take on to the voting poles for our local elections. Our television sets are decorated with ridiculous adverts; our poles of frilled pictures of whom we must vote for. Oh they’ve tapped into the social media sites, and yep we found their promises there as well.

Is it so difficult to talk less and practice more, what they say is good, but now we end up waiting for the implementation of what was loudly say, before we could cast our votes. Yes, yes we agree not all can be granted, but at least let us see what can be granted. It gets tiring see the vast difference is our education system. I can forgive the fact that social hierarchy will always be there but human dignity should never be compromised under any circumstances.

I would rather have politicians talk less and deliver bit by bit.

True Story

Motherhood, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Waking up to the news that you are pregnant for the first time sure changes your life forever. The shock, the excitement the doubts all mixed emotions in one person. Well let me talk about my motherhood, my blessings, and my world. 

At 23 years of age my doctor told me I was pregnant and that it was way too early for him to estimate. I can’t remember an emotion that didn’t go through my mind that very instant. My boyfriend then (husband now) was out of town when I felt ill. So I called him to share my new revelation. I can’t say he wasn’t as shocked as I was as this little life inside of me, would be our first.

Ok let me go back to my story not our story, I gave birth to my first harvest, the apple of my eye, the same year in December. That day is still as clear as day light until this day. I went in because I was way over due, so they had to force the little lazy champ out. It was drizzling outside, the type of warm rain and the afternoon was calm (don’t get me wrong the pains were there) but I was calm. I did as I was told, pushed and stopped when told to, and hey everything went smooth. I remember seeing my (not so clean baby, covered in all the baby covering stuff) but one look at him and I was hooked. It was true love at first sight. My husband was fortunate enough to hold him before me, but I know that first suck he took from me, was a bond no one alive could break. The pains disappeared for a while, because my mind was occupied with such wonder.  I was a mother; I had been given an opportunity to guide another life.

Four years went by and I watched him grow and I still pinch myself in wonder of this life that was trusted in my care. Yet again beginning of the year, I felt sick and this time, a bit wiser thought we should try a home pregnancy test, before going to the doctor, and it was to be confirmed by  two doctors that I’m pregnant once again. I can’t say I shared the same emotions and adrenaline. This time reality check was more intense, were we financially ready for a second child? Would we have to take this one to a cheaper day-care, so to accommodate the second one? Sad because all we thought about was money (which was a reality, but could never prepare us for being wonderful parents), so we decided to let the life live and he/she would just have to adjust to the existing family structure.

Another lazy child, but this time they had to cut me up, so yes half dead I could see, but could not feel the pain. In fact I could not see my opened tummy (that would have been fatal), they had to turn him around as he was not positioned for a C-section. When they pulled him up, I was drained tired and emotional that they had to cut me, after I had been so adamant that I would do it naturally. I looked at my baby, and something was different about him, his hair was ginger colour. The look in the doctors’ eyes and my husband’s eyes told me something was different with this baby. I held my baby before my husband this time, as they had to put him staring to my chest for the bonding session. Yes you guessed right they do it, since he didn’t go through the tunnel of life, but rather chose the easy way out.  It was love at first sight, mainly because I was shaking from the epidural, But when I woke up from all the shaking. I looked at him and cried and kissed him so much. I couldn’t let him go from my sight. I felt like God had sent me my very own angel, he was peaceful and by far the sweetest baby.   

Don’t Hold Back

What happened to my generation is that we never grew up.

The problem isn’t that we’re lost or apathetic, narcissistic or materialistic.

The problem is we are terrified.

A lot of us know we have what it takes, the look, the education, the talent, the credentials.

But in certain areas, we’re paralyzed.

We’re not being stopped by something on the outside, but by something on the inside.

Our oppression is internal. The government isn’t holding us back, or hunger or poverty.

We’re not afraid we’ll get sent to Siberia.
We are just afraid, period. Our fear is free floating.

We’re afraid this isn’t the right relationship or we’re afraid it is.

We are afraid they won’t like us or we are afraid they will.

We’re afraid of dying young or afraid of growing old.

We’re more afraid of life than we are of death.

This is a quote from Marianne Williamson, and it might seem strange that I am fascinated by fear. Maybe it’s because I know of its rippling effects, How to leads to a place of hiding without us being aware of it. It is said that we are not born with fear; however we learn fear along as we grow up. The words, no, don’t soon become more glorified than, yes, don’t be afraid, go for it, you can do it, and so forth.

We spend our lives trying to find our purpose in life, are we that afraid to join a group of people that are helping somewhere. It’s about sharing one’s time, making a difference in the world, in turn enriches your life.

Wedding cake-in-the-middle-of-the road

He asked for her hand in marriage, she said yes. Theirs would be would be a story filled with love, but as we all know love can get lost in the middle of all the happenings around us.

The young lovers agreed on their wedding date, they chose everything together. He was as active in the planning as she was, as he wanted to spend as much time besides her as he could. They went to an old bakery in their home town. This bakery had a History of their wedding cakes, and the old lady made each cake to tell a story of the couple.

The couple shared their love story and the old woman listened to music as she carved the frame of the cake, and her hands spoke of words, unspoken. It was as if she was not listening to the young couple, as they went ahead sharing their love story and laughing in-between. For she was wise she could read between the lines.

The wedding day came and the cake was perfect, as each layer of the cake represented something the couple had shared with the old lady. They exchanged their vows and everyone celebrated with them. It was their dream day, everything went according to plan. The cake was going to be enjoyed by everyone after a year on their first year anniversary.

Months went by and the couple were approaching their first year anniversary and they had to take their and go to a venue they had hired out to share the cake with the rest of their family and friends. On their way to the venue their car had a problem and strange enough, they could not get help, because they has lost network. They were stuck in the middle of the road; the panic started taking its tow on the couple. The husband suggested they make the most of it, and take out their cake in the middle of the road and have their own celebration.

So it was, the played their wedding songs and started dancing and eating the cake. They decided to turn their bad situation into a funny one. They took pictures of each other and their cake right in the middle of the road, where they took turns to remove it when cars approached. It was an anniversary made from heaven on earth. Their love proved that even in the middle of the road, where its far forward and equally far backwards, we still have choices. Love is not only found in perfection ,love is where the hearts are.

It is a poor idea to lie to yourself

Many a time we have fooled ourselves by lying about how we feel. It is often easier to lie than show how you really feel. Often this has led to instability and self-distraction. Lying to yourself makes life unbearable, since one has to have a double identity.
We often get stuck in toxic relationships and convince ourselves that all is well, and that people can’t really see you’re one’s thoughts. This has led to severe depression to many people as they are not living how they are feeling. They suppress their true feeling, lying to themselves than to the world. People don’t really care what you feel, but they take what you give them, what you show them. In the end you are left with bruises of internal pain and confusion.
We find ourselves unhappy, but wearing this happy mask, so not to bother the world. It is not healthy, because inside one is slowly dying and no amount of laughter can make them feel better.
I found this interesting quote:
"Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love."
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky (The Brothers Karamazov)

What happens to the manicure?

What happens to the manicure
Wedding ceremonies are different and so are the marriages. They are influenced by our cultures, religions and societies in which we stay in. It is true though these marriages have common goals, to unite and to build families.
Xhosa wedding, usually the first day we have what we call a “white wedding”. Well for now the bride wears her beautiful wedding gown, and the groom looking handsome. It is the day when your entire guests are dressed to kill (dressed to kill is a common term used, when someone is dressed in their best). The wedding can be a community wedding (this is an economical wedding done in the local school hall, or community hall); at this wedding you’ll have your local ladies who will prepare the food. There’s usually a whole lot of singing and the vibe is alive and the white flag at both the homes is put outside the couple’s homes, so that neighbours can see there’s a wedding that is about to take place.
White wedding can also be performed in fancy venues for those who can afford to do so, limiting your guest list (usually the parents have to put on a fight with their kids, to have all their friends at the wedding). Weddings at these venues are well calculated, since these venues cater per head. But there are always those random guests who did not RSVP, so they don’t have a table, but they come anyway. The organisers have to go up and down, finding open tables; with the hope no extra expenses can occur.
The following day is the Traditional wedding; and this is my personal favourite day of the two days. I think it’s mainly the singing and the freer spirited occasion it becomes.
The new bride and her family and friends (uduli) are welcomed to the groom’s family home in song and jubilation. Funny songs are sung at the beginning, sort of like the two groups challenging each other in song and dance. After the singing and dancing, the elders hand over the bride to her new family. When she come outside wearing her new outfit (Makoti outfit), both the bride and the groom’s Uduli sing uniting songs, because they are one now.
Most probably you’re thinking, and now what happens to the manicure and the expensive hairstyle. As for the manicure, you’ll have to work and impress your new family and cover that fancy hairstyle. Hey it’s not as bad as I made it sounds, but it’s the truth.
As for the honeymoon immediately after the ceremony, most families don’t grant that. Couples can choose another time for that.