Imagine if you didn’t have to try..

 

Imagine being unapologetically YOU.

Imagine expressing yourself the way you choose to

Imagine a life where the noise of society falls away like a drop in the ocean

Cavalierly walking the streets, barefeet

Imagine.

 

Imagine not having to prove yourself to be better than..

faster than…

prettier than..

smarter than…

A life without comparison, just imagine

 

Imagine being taught this song as a child, have it melodically impressed in your mind

Imagine the freedom and power bolting through your veins every single day

Stress free, worry free, make up free… HAPPY

One can only imagine

 

Imagine being influenced by what or who is in you..

Not having to try anything to make others like or accept you

Imagine being your own leader, creating your own norms

No jurisdiction, no laws, no chains, no saws

 

Stop imagining.

Be.

Conversations at the Carwash

I never think of a petrol station and carwash combination as a place to have metamorphic and paradigm shifting conversations, as I have just recently encountered.

I either read a magazine if the sun’s glare allows, whip my phone out to start chatting and catching up or I haul out my tablet and read crass articles of celebrity gossip. I’m sure you were expecting me to say that I salvage my time to do something smart or mentally beneficial, but alas, the carwash is neither comfortable nor conducive for such things.

Anyway, an elderly man calls for my attention. I automatically have my guard up and nose in the air, just in case the married timer is trying to get my number. We can no longer assume that the way we were brought up, of greeting our elders and acknowledging their presence is viable, as these father figures prefer to be “daddy” figures nowadays (if you know what I mean).

He tells me I resemble his daughter. My style of dress, my hair, the way I walk.. everything. He then said he wanted to take a picture, but that would be illegal. You can imagine what’s going through my mind at this point… Yes the word CREEP.

I respond and say she sounds like she’s out of town.”Do you miss her?” I ask. It must be my emotional intelligence or strong sixth sense LOL but that guess was spot on.

He continued to tell me her story about how she left home to go study an expensive course at some “international” college only to get a qualification in something she didn’t really like. She had to find her feet by struggling her way through short learning programmes and get a job in a totally different field. He then spoke about the importance of innovation and lateral thinking in young minds, jumped to comparing the public sector versus private sector environments and touched on leadership. This brought about a debate on race and classicism and the wisdom of knowing the interrelationship of the two. He touched on lobola negotiations and the wisdom of always choosing the right people to represent you, within your family. “Elders might not respect your choices, but always stick to what you believe in. As hard as it may be, sometimes it’s best to forget the blood relation element and treat family as they treat you.” He spoke about the uselessness of luxury cars instead of necessity buying, mentioned investments and the perks of financial education.

This guy became cooler by the second. Only mid-conversation did we introduce ourselves, he called me Samido I stuck with Uncle M. (Respect factor you know) He reenacted so many characters, accents, stereotypes, I couldn’t stop laughing. He mentioned his wife alot. He loves her. *wipes sweat*

“Mam, your car is ready,” says the Carwasher.

I was kind of bummed. I might not ever see Uncle M again, but I am so grateful for his insight and sense of humour.

I usually dread the carwash, but after this encounter it might just be my new hang out spot. Gosh, I might even find my other whole..

I’m so glad my car is clean, they didn’t polish my tyres though.

The Parable of the Boiled Frog

In my journey of life I often always meet women who are constantly in some kind of relationship trouble. It never occurs to them that they have a choice on how to react or whether or not it is still worth it to be in the relationship. But I shouldn’t include matters of the heart; too much of a knotted helix, which I am not qualified to unstitch. Also, as I am always on the receiving end, at my heightened view, I can be too critical or sound emotionless, forgetting that I’m dealing with someone new who knows not of the several case studies I have just encountered.

So as these women saunter in their labyrinths of love, they meet “Jerks of all trades” who completely confuse their well-beings and identities and unconsciously teach them how they should be treated. They accept these behaviours in hopes of things changing (by a strike of lightening from the heavens that will turn the leopard’s spots into stripes) and going back to the sweet honeymoon phase of being pursued and wanted again.

These women are so great, filled with potential and wit. Their hands are full of gold and purpose. They are beautiful. But they risk nemesis by inviting such rejection, complacency, abuse into their hearts. It’s scarring. These women are our mothers, aunts, neighbours and friends, culturally taught to withstand all adversity at the sake of their distant families.  What a curse!

And so the example of the frog is brought up.

“If you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will immediately scramble out. However, if you put the frog in a pot of cold water and gradually turn up the heat, the frog will become groggier and groggier, until it is unable to climb out the pot. Although there is nothing restraining it, the frog will sit there and boil. Why? Because the frog’s internal apparatus for sensing threats to survival is geared to sudden changes in the environment-not slow, incremental changes.”

The signs are always there.

We as women only react to dramatic changes whereas ignoring the gradual signs and processes lead to bigger threats that cost our souls more.

Don’t wait too long.

How far will you have to go before you learn the lesson?

I can’t see another macabre headline of murder, torture, abuse, suffering and the like.

When you know you’re enough, you’ll know when you’ve had the same.