There are no Saints amongst us. How Blessed we Are.

💙💚💛💜💖

We need to learn to "Let Go and Let God" Fr Sibonelo at Ngome reminded us a few months ago on our weekend retreat.  It sounded like a great plan.  There, all rejuvenated and revived and spiritually excited I agreed that I would try.  

So here I am. A few months later. Thinking about Let Go and Let God.  Wondering if my motto should not rather be something more forceful.  And please do not ask me WWJD. 

I am under an unusual amount of pressure presently.  Mentally I sometimes find myself floundering in a newly changed situation, as so many areas of my life are currently altering and shifting and realigning themselves.  I am like a child in a learn to swim programme who has moved into the big pool.  I am familiar with the environment but still want the safety of the rail while I settle.  

I have been surprised to find that some people that I thought were the rail are actually those taking the screws out of it and shoving me under the water.  I have been reminded repeatedly recently of how easily we all forget about our own shortcomings, faults and stupid behaviours when we are busy focusing on these in others. There are no Saints .....

Let Go and Let God.  I spoke at great length to Fr Sibonelo about this in a quiet half hour on the one day.  It sounds so lovely ..... no matter what happens or what you do to me or anyone else or how you treat me or anyone else, I must just smile and wave, let it go and leave it up to God to deal with you.  Can you do that?  I mean you, the one reading this? Do you like to deal the cards?  Do you allow others to do the same?

We react.  That is what we do.  Yes including you, the one currently shaking their head thinking "not me".  We react.  It is so much easier to point outwards than inwards.  To say "you are" instead of "I am".  It is easier to point out faults than to deal with our own.  When this becomes largely one-sided, resentment breeds. 

I find myself questioning, challenging, studying, discerning, resisting, inviting and immersing myself in change. I find myself rebelling against those who neglect the messiness of their own lives, or refuse me the right to comment, when they however highlight messiness in mine.  I am however, more than happy and enthusiastic to engage with those who allow there to be some quid pro quo.

I have now decided that giving love does not necessarily mean getting it, giving friendship does not always mean you receive it, loyalty unfortunately does not beget loyalty, nor does trust beget trust.  Giving 100% does not automatically mean you receive 100% in return from people or situations. This does not make me a victim of some delusional vision of how life should be, it makes me a strong person, who can realise this truth. 

So I shall focus on Fr Sibonelo.  Let Live and Let God.  I will allow other people's behaviours, habits, idiosyncrasies, messiness, lies, judgements and other be theirs.  People must each live their own way, God will take care of the reprimands.  

But for heavens sake, allow me to have some messiness, just like you do.  Let Live and Let God applies to me as well.  God will reprimand me as He sees fit.  And I shall speak up if I do not agree. 

There are no Saints. Is that not wonderful!

till soon 
c'est la vie xxx

label me, label you

Labels.  You find them everywhere.  On all kinds of things.  Even people. 

Tins, Bottles, Boxes, Containers and much more - all have labels telling you what is in there - descriptions that usually match the contents quite well. 

The same cannot be said about human labels.  They are very often given to us by others, and very often do not accurately describe the person behind it.  

What labels would you give yourself?  Beautiful? Talkative? Passionate? Warm? or do you fall into the trap of giving yourself negative labels - Fat, Incompetent, Tiring, Boring .... the list is endless. Why do we find it so easy to believe the negative labels others give us, yet so hard to accept the positive ones which we know to be true?

One of the most soul destroying things I experience is those who label me, incorrectly, and in the process make me believe the labels to be true. 

How is it that we are less inclined to believe the positive labels than we are the negative ones?  I think that if we receive them in a balanced way we would, but human nature is such that negative labels are easier to give out. 

Situations often arise in life where we find ourselves in a circle, like a hamster wheel, when repeated negativity comes our way.  If you tell someone constantly that they are too this and too that and reinforce this daily, over a plethera of traits of theirs, they will gradually start to believe you.  And if they believe you they will constantly be trying to change something, which in your mind is unacceptable.  The same is true for many people.  

Strong personalities excel at this - by focusing continually on others, they ensure that their own shortcomings and faults are never highlighted or addressed.  Very often their own lives are far messier than the lives of those they criticise. 

So labels - you will always receive them.  Discern about what you should accept and what not.  Hold onto the labels that fit and gently slide aside those that do not. Yes, some will be true, some will be ones that you need to face, however do not get caught up in a situation where you start to believe every fault highlighted.  There is no person so perfect that they can be entitled to criticise others without allowing that person the same liberty in return. 

So as annoying, loud, overreacting, self-absorbed, inefficient, self-pitying, depressed, hysterical, crazy and behaving as if I am always wronged I am ..... (there are many more labels, but word count is limited) ... I am also kind, caring, warm, ridiculously loyal and protective, dedicated, funny and so much more.  

I will try and remind myself daily that I am actually quite ok. 

Stay true to yourself. 

much love 

c'est la vie 

xxxx 

the journey. myself. musing. karin is here.

Every time I travel 1600 km to visit Jess, the same thing happens.  It happened now and it happened last September and it happened the September before that. 

I find Karin.  It seems that she hides here in CT, in these beautiful little streets, the old houses, the shadow of the mountain, the streets that you can walk down and find dozens of quaint little coffee shops, laundries, Internet shops, vintage clothing shops and much more.  Every corner has a little eatery of sorts and if you are living where we currently are, we can just as easily cross the road to a Centre that is beautiful, not huge and has every store, including a delightful French Bistro, as we can meander down the hill and find a plethora of little coffee shops and other.  

I have fallen in love with a little wooden gate, a door with a brass doorknob and the view from my bedroom window.  This gate is a small, white, well worn, wooden garden gate, painted in semi-peeling white paint, thigh high and the entry to our little apartment/townhouse whatever this is called in the Cape.  I get a thrill every time I open it.  It is not a motorised gate like at home, surrounded by 6ft palisade fencing.  From the gate it is 5 steps to a beautiful old house door, with a brass doorknob, old fashioned, and every time I open that door I know that the beautifully restored wooden floors, high ceilings, old fashioned desk, old balcony and that view will be here. The two owners have done restorations yes, but they did so while keeping the very essence of this jewel.  Many think the mountain is overrated, but from every window of every room in this gem, we see it and it is a beautiful sight.  I find myself looking every morning to see if it is boldly facing the blue skies, or lying under the white tablecloth.  

I have a lot of time every September to read.  To muse.  To write  To journal.  To colour.  To spend with Nic and whenever she can be off, Jess.  This time she is ill, so we have to do many things without her on her days off, whilst she is bundled up on the couch, resting.  We never do the September visit without a visit to her beloved Pot Luck Club and tonight that wonderful experience lies ahead as we visit her work environment and the kitchen she gives most of her life to.  It is a taste experience and we wait all year for it.  We are blessed to also include a dear friend in our visit tonight. 

In this down time, I get to find me .... the one that gets swept up in the pace at work, the demands of being a wife, a mom, a friend, a confidante, a counsellor, a secretary, an ear to listen, a blogger, a person who sleeps very little, a coffeeholic. Sometimes making me be completely consumed by it all. 

It is like my "reset" button waits here for me each year.  And funnily enough I do not find that during the December break when our offices close, or during any other little break in the year.  I only find it here.  I people watch, and in doing so I realise once again, how I battle when I am not in an environment where other people are present on a regular basis.  Not necessarily talking to me, but physically present - being alone for long periods, when not by choice, is a challenge for me.  Deezer has not ever been played so much in my life.  

My family thus get the "chatty me" when I am around them, every detail of every moment of my day and anything else that I saw or heard or observed that I want to share with them, unless it is confidential.  I babble on.  

I am not afraid of being alone, but only at times that I choose it to be so.  I am known to go to the Art movies on my afternoon off, happily alone with my popcorn and my slush puppy.  Yesterday morning the kids slept late and I went off to the French Bistro down the road, had a glorious croissant and 2 cups of the good stuff and read, and people watched and reflected.  I even spoke via DM to the author of the brilliant book I just finished (The Fifth Mrs Brink).  I attended her book launch and was mesmerised by her beautiful marriage and love for Andre P Brink.  It was by choice I was alone.  In that way too I happily have breakfast by myself on Monday mornings at my regular coffee hangout in Pretoria.  I do my crosswords (I am addicted to newspaper crosswords) and again people watch. 

Back to my musing about CT - here I find that I have a voice, that I sleep well, I do not mull over every opinion I and others have, 22 times, I speak up, or not.  I do not seem to be apologising as much. I slow down.  I breathe.  And whilst I am on holiday yes, and should feel relaxed yes, this is not that kind of relax your shoulders and take it easy kind of relaxed.  It is just a reset my mind, don't make excuses for who I am kind of relax. 

Imagine if Jess never moved to CT and I never came here every year.  

So just like I do every year, I will try and make sure that this Karin comes home with me next week.  That she be bold, that she flaunt the fact that she cares too much about everything, that she demands the same in return, that she stops letting people who take her for granted, do so, and that she remembers every day to breathe. To pause. To muse.  

At least I know if I lose her along the way, she will be waiting here for me next September. 

Much love to you all ..... try be you. 
c'est la vie 
xxxx

The grip of addictions, rehab and a simple bench

Do you know someone who suffers from an addiction?

No?

Then you are not paying attention. 

Addicts do not all move through life with huge illuminated signs in front of them, declaring their addiction.  Addictions and addicts are around us, amongst us, known and unknown at different times. 

Yesterday I had reason to visit someone in a Rehab Centre.  Not a family member, perhaps not even a friend, more of an acquaintance.  I think I have spoken to him face to face only once, the rest of the time the interaction is by phone as he calls me just, I think, to have me listen to him for a few minutes.  A reaching out.  I don't actually know. 

This is not his first visit to Rehab, nor do I know if it will be his last, but he is there, being visited by his family, but no-one else from his life.  It is sad to think that there is not a colleague from his office who will visit, not even a friend.  I wonder how you get to that point. I don't know if he has used up his last, last, last chance with everyone, or whether they don't know how to deal with it.  I think everyone reaches the former sooner or later, and tough love sets in. 

So armed with some biscuits, chips, chocolates, some reading material and a Bible, I set off for the Centre yesterday afternoon.  It is not my first experience at visiting someone in Rehab but it has been almost 20 years since I have.  By the time I turned into the gate, I found my heart beating a little quicker and felt a slight nervousness.  What would I say? What would we talk about?  Would he be lucid?  Would he talk to me? What if he hates biscuits? I managed to mentally race through 27 questions in under a minute.  

You are not allowed to park inside, so having got out, I walked down the path to the reception.  The setting is pretty.  Lovely lawns with benches, little streams, fountains and beautiful tall trees of all types.  The buildings are neat but still gave me a little sense of old-school hospital meets boarding school.  Nothing indicates the severity of why people are there. The guard walked me all the way and just as I was hoping that I would recognize the guy, he saw me, jumped up with a shout and bounded his way over.  We are not talking about a teenager but a man in his 30's.  

I was starting to feel that it was going to be ok. 

Once the nursing sister had checked all the items that I had brought him, he suggested we go and sit on a bench in the gardens.  It was sweet how concerned he was that we should not sit on a dirty bench as he did not want my clothes to get dusty.  

I had intended to stay for about 30 minutes.  We ended up sitting there for over an hour and a half, almost till sunset.

Having found out how he was feeling, who he shared a room with, how the schedule worked, what therapy sessions he was attending, all about the art classes, about the specialists, how the food is, how the medicines are controlled, how their religious needs are catered for, how many people are currently there, what he does during the day .... I felt that all those "administration" questions I had, had been answered.  

So I did what I think I know how to do well in such situations (thank you LifeLine for 14 weeks of training, 3 years ago, it has stood me in good stead time and time again).... I said nothing ......I waited.  The lull in conversation would decide which direction we would take now. 

He started talking ........ and in the 90 minutes I found myself probably talking for 20 of them in total.  

It was, all in all, a sad story.  One that can probably happen to any of us, any of our family, our kids, our colleagues.  He told it in depth and with great honesty.  Every now and then he said "this may really shock you".  No.  I work with people every day in my job.  Happy people, hurting people, sad people, joyful people ...... I know a 1000 stories from a lot of people.  This is life. 

I thought about the many addictions in life.  There are all the serious ones like alcohol, drugs and pills that lead to Centres like this one.  But there are others - social media, pornography, sexual selfies, caffeine, food, smoking, promiscuity .... go and Google, you will be amazed at the lists. Some of those addictions, whilst not putting you in Rehab, also start to rule your life, affect your family and friends and even hurt you.  These do not make you a bad person, they don't make you an "addict", they simply show us all (including me) how easy it is to have something in your life that you think you cannot live without.  

When my daughter was between 1 and 3 years old, my hubby and I fostered 4 young unmarried girls (at different times) who had been in Fatima House for unwed mothers. Once the baby is born, the girl has to move out and this is where temporary fostering comes in, whilst a place is found for them.  All the girls we fostered has elected to keep their babies and not have them adopted.  Most of them were between 17 and 21.  They knew nothing about babies and had nothing and we ended up having to teach them the most arbitrary things we take for granted and supply their needs, personally and for the newborn.  These babies were usually a week old when they arrived at us.  One of these girls, who lived with us for 5 months, had a boyfriend who was in rehab and she herself was a recovering addict, clean for a year, who had a relapse whilst in our care because caring for a baby was just beyond her emotional ability.  Her parents lived close to us, but refused to have anything to do with her and so that was one of our additional tastes of rehab and her uncontrolled, non-reasonable behaviour and stealing to feed her habit. After trying everything, we too had to eventually apply Tough Love. 

So driving home yesterday I had a lot of time to reflect on the visit, I even shed a few tears. It was emotional, it was sad, it was an eye-opener to how easily certain things are available through both official and unofficial channels.  But I was glad I had gone.  He needs to know that God has not forgotten him, that although he has been to Rehab a few times, he always checks himself in, which although not great, means he realises what he is doing wrong. 

I cannot imagine what it must be like to deal with this in your own family. I have seen and heard of families destroyed by people whose addictions turn them into unrecognisable, violent people who will do anything to feed their addiction. 

I will pray for him.  I will pray for all others too. 

The only thing I can do, is simply sit on that bench, and listen. 

till soon 
c'est la vie xx

depression - "just get over it" - and other stupidities

Do you have a friend who suffers from depression?

Not?

Then you are not paying attention.

Research is stating more and more often that in every one of our friendship / family circles there is at least one person who does. 

Either it is openly known or seen, or carefully hidden by that person.  

Depression is an illness.  It is not a choice like what movie to see, what day to go to the dentist, what colour top to put on or whether or not to have a 2nd cup of coffee.  

Depression does not jump up and wave a large flag in your face when it is about to swoop. It is either there all the time, or sidles up to you every now and then, usually without warning, visits for a while and then slithers off.  You do not get to choose, it is not like a hotel booking where you say "five nights please". 

When diagnosed with any other serious illness, people would normally find themselves treated with great sympathy and genuine caring.  The person who has the sickness did not ask for it, and has to live through / with it, sometimes without a solution, sometimes being made well by meds and sometimes not.  It can be sporadic or a fight every day. But society is kind and sympathetic. Sadly this is not always the case with depression, which causes the same situation as above. 

Depression (and I spoke to a lot of people before I wrote this article) is very often seen as the sufferers' fault - are any of these familliar to you - either because you have to hear them or because you say them to others - Pull yourself together, Don't worry it will be better tomorrow, Think positive thoughts, Don't worry we all have sad days, Find a hobby, Remember there are people with worse illnesses etc etc. 

Depression seems to give some other people a very strange opportunity when it comes to dealing with depression sufferers - the opportunity to always blame everything on that person. 

We had an argument?  I was unkind to you?  I treated you badly?  I treated you disrespectfully?  I hurt you?  I do not have to apologise because YOU suffer from depression and thus are oversensitive, over ridiculous, over reactive, weepy and annoying.  Some people find this weak spot and utilise it to the full.  It gives them the opportunity to treat you however they wish, when they wish to, because they never have to apologise or rectify what they did - they can simply blame you and your depression. 

The question is - the person with depression is fighting an illness - what is your excuse?

Yes it can be hard to deal with someone like this, no denying that, but before you judge them, ask yourself what about your mood swings, your bad days, your irritability - are these acceptable because "you are just human" and why does this not apply the other way around? 

Many depression sufferers have the situation well under control, usually with medication, sometimes combined with therapy.  Yes they have "all fall down days", but so do all people in the world.  Yet the depression sufferer is judged for it. 

The stigma associated with depression, especially in more serious forms, often leads people to hide their condition so they do not have to hear the stereotypical comments when it does not go well in their lives.  Believe it or not - when a depression sufferer has a real shitty day at the office - it can be just that - a real shitty day - it does not have to be linked to their health.  It is just a normal healthy real shitty day. 

So if you are a depression sufferer, pick those you tell with great care, because that is how you buffer yourself against it being used against you. Sadly society has a long way to go.  If you are having a depressive bad day, week, month, please remind yourself that this is an illness, not a choice.  If you are having a normal bad day, week, month simply because it is just that, then revel in it. 

And next time someone blames your depression on your reaction to the way they treat you, just quietly remind yourself in your head "what the hell is their excuse". 

So I wish you love and laughter and light, especially on the dark days.  

And remember ..... you are perfectly normal ...... maybe a little crazy sometimes .... but perfectly normal. 

see you soon 
c'est la vie xxx

professional purpose - so what is your daily work mantra?

When someone asks you what you do, what do you say?

Do you give them your official job title, do you give them an informal reference to what your job is, do you describe your tasks and leave your job title open or do you simply shrug and mutter something about your job, making yourself sound as irrelevant as possible?

I read an interesting article recently, via Twitter and that got me thinking about the above. 

How do YOU see you, in your job.  Because how we see ourselves can either be better or worse, or sometimes exactly like others see us. 

That brings me to the point of professional purpose.  S Poswolsky says that in work we should learn our purpose, instead of just trying to find it.  Your job may have general definitions of what you are supposed to do.  And you could spend years trying to find your purpose in the what and why of your job and those definitions.  He has a strong point in saying that you should learn your purpose .... in your more defined tasks, ask yourself, "whose life do I affect when I do this task efficiently, how do I make the company look better when I do x, y or z".  

Somewhere in there you may find that you swing from "do I have any real purpose here", to "this is the great impact I make simply by what I do and the way I do it". 

Let me tell you something I know for sure, simply because I struggle with it - more people recognize and appreciate what you do than you generally give yourself credit for.  Yes, there will always be those who work in a situation where you are one of hundreds and no matter how much dedication you show, you slip under the radar. But generally, we short sell ourselves. 

I am still at work right now.  Because I was told to be? No.  Because I was asked to be? No. Because I wanted to be.  I simply cannot bear anymore driving today so having 4 hours to kill (mother of an 18 year old) I have come to work to pass that time.  With the buzzer at the gate not ringing and the phone not ringing etc, I got through a serious pile of work.  And then decided to clean up my office of all the little stuff I have - my candles, little cactus plants, my stationery all over the desk, my little that and little this.  My office just screamed Karin, those who know me will confirm.  Boom - colourful, out there, one candle always burning. It now screams Secretary and first person you meet as you walk through the door.  Perhaps a change in professional purpose.  You can't be lightening covered in glitter forever.  

So maybe you need to give this a think - and then ask yourself what your mantra is?  And if you do not have one, what would you want it to be?  I had a week to think about this, before writing this blog. 

Mine is simple.  Do all things with kindness. 

I am going to stick it on my computer so that I see it all day. 

And remember - wherever you are - your feet are not cast in concrete .....

till soon
c'est la vie 

Gentle words, kindness, niceness and other challenges

So this thing about being nice, or as our Priest so sweetly reminded us a few weeks ago - being gentle with our words. 

Pfffft.  So easy to say. Let he or she who manages this all the time, please stand.  Oh look, we are all sitting. 

So I am driving from school to work and on the single lane road that crosses the bridge en route, a road that is choc-a-block, the taxis do their usual thing of riding on the side of the lane and then shoving themselves in front (I have ridden this route for 4 years now) .... I do not mean one or two taxis, I mean ten or fifteen taxis driving bumper to bumper.  I used to get supremely heated, even now and then moving my car slightly into that lane to prevent them from doing so.  It does not bother them, only me, so I have been practicing to simply, when the road narrows, allow the taxi that is at that moment 2 cm ahead of me, but on my left, to slide in in front of me.  I even flash my lights and say come across.  Because I support simply breaking the rules of the road?  No, because I support staying sane and trying not to swear like a sailor at 715 am in the morning.  So he is happy because he can race ahead, and I am calm - gentle with my words. 

Now particularly over the last 3 weeks, and starting with a discussion with someone I know, I have realised that being nice (and loyal and having some people's backs), is maybe equal to just being stupid.  Simply because when you are like that you get ridden over roughshod and often find that you make most of the effort in some relationships. A sort of well you are nice to have and very convenient to have around, but hey, you do all the work in the relationship Karin, I will just be present.  Use your words!  Now I have found myself, as I said, in the last 3 weeks becoming increasingly irritable about this issue and despite having addressed some issues head on, the result was a 4 day improvement and then the status quo resumed.  So - do I play nicely, speak nicely, doormat nicely, or do I say (in a gentle and loving tone, using nice gentle words) - if you want me in your life, best you step up.  Nothing worse than watching someone lavish attention on some, but not on those who deserve it. Use your words please!! 

No - actually I cannot address it - nice words fail me.  This one will require more work. 

What about in your office?  Being gentle can fail us there.  We get tested and tried and all too often it is easy to lash out at those who cross our doorstep, sigh and roll eyes in certain instances, when we could actually practice the pause and answer in a more gentle manner. To those we work with, work for and in serving others.  We need to lead by example in our words.  All of us. In all fields of work. 

And so it goes with friends, family, colleagues, associates, acquaintances and so on and so on.  

I have realised that I, like most, have to continue to practice the pause, the 1 2 3, before we answer, retaliate or react.  It is so easy to take our moods out, not on the person who caused the mood in the first place, but on the persons who least deserve it. 

Pause, pause and more pause. 

Oh was it simply to easy. 

Chat soon again .... be gentle on yourselves and others 

c'est la vie 
xxx