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When you love someone, you wanna be there for them. You wanna be that rock they lean on. You want it to be you they think about when they get up in the morning, and when they go to sleep at night. You want to look up and see their face all the time. You find out what it means when Elton John sang about one heart beating in two separate lives. You never want to say goodbye. You never want to do anything else. You never want to see anyone else. You ask yourself what things you can do to make the time between you longer. You try to be things you've never been just so they can think of you as Superman. You do crazy things like get a fridge so you've got a place to stick all those photos of both of you. You rearrange your entire house. You stay up all night listening to Katie Melua sing about piano keys being a million colors in your mind. You learn to love the music they love. You change every little thing about you that you promised yourself you'd never change just to be a better partner to them. You compromise. You learn a new language.
When you love someone, they're a part of you. They become who you are.
And sometimes when you're the luckiest person in the world, you get all of that back from them. Or you hit a brick wall. Sometimes you hear not now. Sometimes there's not that perfect meeting of minds. Sometimes it's the spring of hope, sometimes it's the winter of despair. Sometimes you want more than they can give. Sometimes you're in paradise, sometimes you're hurtling down Dante's Inferno. Sometimes you stare at a bottle of Panadol wondering how much it would take to overdose. Somtimes you don't want to go to sleep, because reality feels so much better than a dream. Sometimes you wish you could live forever just so you'd always feel the way you do, sometimes you wish forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life. Sometimes you stand in the rain and let it wash down you to see if it will wash away the pain with it.
But it's the most bittersweet pain. Because it's during those, the bleakest moments, that you realise just how great love is. When you're blasting through the sad songs, when you don't have words to describe how broken up you are, you remember the day you two met. And you remember the first time you knew you were meant to be. And you think about that time you skipped home like a baby, happy. It's when the person drives you nuts, and when you can't stand to be around them, or when you're so hurt so bad you don't think you'll ever come back from it, that you realise just how worth all of it they are. Tolstoy said you get gold not by growing it but by washing away from it all that is not gold. These moments show you everything that's not love, and in so doing, enable you to appreciate even more, cherish even further, love even deeper. You realise just how right Shakespeare was:
Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds.
It is an ever fixed mark, that looks on tempests,
and is never shaken.
Love alters not with Time's brief hours, or weeks
but bears it out, even to the edge of doom.
And so you write them a little message telling them you'll love them for a thousand more years, and then you go to sleep and wait to see what tomorrow will bring. Hoping that whatever it be, there'll be two of you, facing it together.
END
Albert Camus once wrote, "You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you continue looking for the meaning of life."
So then how are we supposed to know we're happy if we don't know what happy looks like? And how are we supposed to know that if we don't look for the meaning of happiness? Or maybe this is what they meant when they said ignorance is bliss, that not knowing IS what happiness is? Anyway.
My life's changed so massively in the last three months, I can't even begin to explain. Some awesome, some not so much. I went from a place in my job where I was beginning to get uncertain what exactly I was going to show for all my work at the end of the year, coz my company is all about tangible results not really effort, to now actually having a few projects I can talk about. I went from being that guy in the department everyone was glad to have around because of my smart mouth to that guy who was always the scapegoat whenever anything went wrong because of my smart mouth (this was more coz of one person, but it's one of those things like that tiny hole in the bottom that sank the Titanic). I went from not knowing what to do with my Saturdays to now wishing there was three extra hours everyday because I just can't cram everything within the current time. I went from being that guy who was so fanatical about fitness I'd go to the gym at 9PM to being the guy who wouldn't even go on half-day weekdays because I think life's already tough enough. I went from being the guy who'd read a book a week to being the guy who's started 5 different books and not finished one of them because I don't seem to put as much stock in reading any more. I went from just getting by to being the happiest person in the world to being the saddest person in the world, and then did it all again the following week. And yes, as with all things of this nature, it all started with a girl.
I've learned that living takes so much more effort than we think it does, or should. And that if we don't exert that effort now, we're going to wake up when we're forty and wonder where the last 20 years went. I've learned that with someone to lean on, it's not that hard to get back up every single time you fall. I've learned that music and time really can make everything look better again. I've learned that fatherhood doesn't come naturally; not everyone's cut out to be one. I've learned that women are strong, stronger than us, I think. They can survive anything, they can face down life's hardest storms better than we can, but before they decide what color belt they'd like to buy, a whole bunch of kids have usually cleared high school. I've learned that taking the high road's not always the easiest thing, and, besides motherhood, may be the most thankless job in the world.
And I've learned that happiness really only does happen one day at a time. When I look back in 10 years, I probably won't be able to tell when exactly it all turned around for me, but I will know that for last 10 years, I've been happy. So I'm taking it as it comes. I'm not over-thinking everything. I've stopped looking gift horses in the mouth. I'm accepting all the little victories prima facie and overcoming minor hurdles one after the other and letting it all build up to one big (hopefully positive) picture. As I get older, I'm finding more and more that there's never a crisis that's still a crisis tomorrow. Maturity then must really be about recognising when it's tomorrow already and it's time to move on.
So I'm making this promise to myself
To think only the best, to work only for the best,
and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others
as you are about your own.
To forget the mistakes of the past
and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To live in faith that the whole world is on your side
so long as you are true to the best that is in you.
I'm going to try and be like Albert Camus. I'm going to just live and let live.
END
I wonder how princesses used to be able to tell when a frog was just a frog and when it was going to turn into a handsome prince. Because surely it must be unhealthy to just kiss frogs randomly and hope for the best, no? In fact, I know it is. Because I think I just kissed one, and it didn't turn into a beautiful princess. Or it did but preferred another prince. Either way, this story doesn't have a happy ending.
How does it happen that a guy misreads a girl so deeply? Like they're not just on different pages, they're not even reading the same book? Why aren't all people made the same way, that if they do one thing they all do it with the same intention? Why are feelings so hard to turn off when it counts, when the stakes are really high, so to speak; and easy when it doesn't? Why would two people be perfectly matched in EVERY little way except the one that matters the most? And these people who tell us to wear our hearts on our sleeves, have they really ever had their hearts broken? And why does the freaking sun come up at 4??? These are some of the things that run through my mind these days.
I met a girl. I didn't like her at first, because we met and then didn't again for a while. But then the next time I did. I think I fell for her. Hard. And I thought she felt the same way. We exchanged numbers. We watched stupid ads on youtube. We sat and talked deep into the night. We went out and stargazed. I showed her my life and she showed me the township she grew up in. I made her listen to the music in my heart and she made me listen to the music in hers. I cheered her on when she was in the exam room and she cheered me on when I was in the firing room. We went for pizza. We had Krushers. We played around with doors with chain locks. We saw a film. We unpacked our pasts to each other. We were ourselves around each other. We were happy together, we were sad together. We shared our dreams with each other. We sat next to each other in front of the fire heater. We held hands. We gave each other little presents. We thought about each other when something amazing happened and we weren't together. We made each other laugh. We had inside jokes. We shared poetry. We debated accents and philosophies. We built each other up. We took pictures of each other, with each other. We connected. We slept. We woke up late. We made plans.
It was all like walking through a field of hopes and dreams. I told my friends about her, she told her friends about me. It was like we were made for each other.
Only we weren't. Or apparently I wasn't made for her. It's like I've lost something I never really had. It's literally like when you take a picture with an old camera, and the shutter clicks so you know the picture's been taken, but the film does not go round so it ends up not being recorded.
I heard this on TV once, that perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically to those who hardly think about us in return. While it's not fair to say the one I gave mine to hardly thinks about me, it damn near feels that way.
There's lots of stuff we endure as human beings. This awareness that we have been blessed with, I think it is both our greatest gift and our worst curse. Because of it rejection's gotta be the hardest thing we ever have to go through; because we know not just what it's like when we're going through it, but what it would have been like had we not been rejected. And it's not just me that thinks that. 30 million owners of Adele's record agree with me.
Michael Jordan had a lot to say about life. And rightly so, he led a pretty amazing one. He says he became who he was because for every shot he made he missed a hundred others, and yet he kept on shooting. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, he said. And I ate it all up. I judged everyone who let opportunities pass them by because they were too afraid to try. I belittled people who weren't willing to risk it all. Asked them derisively what their last thought would be if they got hit by a bus the next day. But now I think different. Now, I'm thinking: when you've only got one shot to take, and you take it and you miss, what's the difference?
If you're one of those people that looks for a silver lining everywhere, here's the one in this situation: I'm writing again... Or at least I hope I am.
END
Yesterday I heard some very disturbing stories about some people I'm supposed to care about. They make it so hard, and they keep me up nights so many times. I wish you could turn off love and it stays that way. But I have decided I will not get involved. If these people want to drive themselves into the ground, fine. We all grow old, don't we? We all suffer the consequences of our actions, don't we? At some point, you've gotta let go and let God deal with it, right?
I was trolling round the internet at the airport and I came across this verse by Holley Gerth. I really don't think I need to say anything more
Oh, we may not go to war.
But we fight…
for relationships
for dreams
We battle…
against illness
against discouragement
I think of you staring at the screen, perhaps feeling your strength is small.
Oh, yes, I know what that’s like.
But victory isn’t up to us.
And those words you sometimes hear?
“You’re not worth fighting for.”
They’re a lie. Nothing more.
This is the truth from the heart of One who calls you His own:
You are loved.
You are worth fighting for.
You are even worth dying for.
So go into your day, strong friend, knowing that nothing can defeat you.
You’ve already won.
END
So I must be moving up in the world, coz I went to the orchestra and I found it very interesting. And this time, not in the least bit because this conductor was one of the more flamboyant ones - I swear he was jigging it up so much on stage you'd a thought it was a waltz recital instead. But he was also a hundred years old so I guess by then you have enough moral authority that you can do whatever you want and no one's gonna think it odd. It reminded me of this guy they brought to our half-annual office event in February, calls himself The Silent Conductor.
Basically he gave everyone a different kind of percussion instrument (pipes that when hit produce a different pitched sound based on color) and then he'd demonstrate what he wants the reds to do, they do it and he shows the blues something else then the greens something else and so on. Then occasionally he'd change the rhythm for one color, and before we knew it, we were making music. Not a single word uttered. Not a single rehearsal gone through. We just came in, followed the leader, and made beautiful music. Steve just such energy, brought such zest to the stage, you couldn't help but be blown away and chime along. Even the naysayers and skeptics, after waiting around for about 10 minutes and seeing everyone else get into the grove, decided to join in.
We were apparently supposed to draw these deep parallels between our company and an orchestra and the conductor and the lead team. There was a debrief session immediately after Steve finished just to make sure we had. See a company is exactly like an orchestra - the different people doing different things are like the members of the orchestra playing different instruments. They read off different scores and even play at different times, sometimes together, sometimes solos, but in the grand scheme of things, it's one song that we the audience are listening to. Just like in our company - different people from different departments doing different things but in the end all putting out the same brilliant products. All touching lives, improving life. And that should have made us start functioning together better as teams.
Anyway, I was just struck by the simplicity of this Silent Conductor. He's built an entire career out of the simplest of things - little straw pipes that produce different sounds when struck. And he doesn't need to appear like a sage because he doesn't actually say anything. You guys come to the conclusions he wants all by yourselves. Now that's what I call brilliance.
END
In the space of about two weeks, the two weeks just before I came to Switzerland, three things happened to me that stood out more than anything else. Well, one other thing happened but that's the subject of a whole other story: the person I was living with and me went on collision course because of something completely stupid but since we're both hard heads it became a deep-seated issue and I ended up feeling like I was being driven out so I left his house. So for about a day I was homeless again. But I digress.
So there I was, standing outside San Burners waiting for my takeaway to be brought, late one evening on my way home when suddenly a little girl comes up to me begging. So obviously I throw her out, coz that's our natural reaction. But this time I kept observing her, and every person who walked up or down she approached, and like clockwork they all sent her away. No exceptions. But everytime someone new came through she was right there begging for a shilling or whatever. All this rejection, I can't even begin to imagine what it does to someone's psyche. Because this was about 8 o'clock and I'm guessing she'd been doing this all day. And since she was about seven maybe she'd been there for like two years. And I'm thinking I start to doubt myself when I hear No just once. Imagine what it must be like when it becomes the fabric your life's made of.
And then some other day I was too early for my pickup, so as I stood there waiting for him to come one of those guys who pushes carts came and somehow decided to rest just in front of the stop I was standing at. His shoes were full of holes, as were the rest of his clothes. He was of course dirty and generally dishevelled, and he was sweating like crazy and panting. Obviously beard unshaved and looking whitish. He was not young. Then his cap fell. And it fell into a puddle of dirty water right next to him. He bent down and picked it up and put it on, mud and everything, as though it was completely normal. And I couldn't help thinking he must have had other dreams at a certain point in his life. Does he have a family? Is there anyone he goes home to? If he were to fall sick, would anyone support him? Judging from the way he looked scary and everything he could just as easily have chosen a life of crime. Might even have paid off better than his current job. But no, here he was trying to make a living whichever way he could find to. He heaved, sighed for like ever, and then picked up his cart full of furniture and went trudging along up the hill. And I swear my heart went with him.
And then yesterday I get a Facebook message from a guy who used to be my friend in primary school but who I literally hadn't seen since I left about 13 years ago. He'd found me on there and we became friends and so he sent that message. Would I be able to help him find a job? Any kind. Due to lack of fees and many other things (I think I heard at some point that their father died, and I'd never actually seen a mother at their place now I think about it) he had only managed to do a marketing diploma after high school, and now it was proving impossible to get placed anywhere. And without anyone to support him or whatever I guess bills were mounting. Now, I'm almost at the very bottom of the foodchain in my company, regardless how glamarous my job sometimes seems, so obviously there's completely nothing I can do except maybe forward job postings I come across. But somehow I doubt that will make him sleep any better at night.
In each of those instances my heart bled for these people. And it's not like any of those scenes was related to the other, it's all just random stuff I notice as I go about my days. Except that each of them brought out vividly a certain harsh reality: but for a twist of fate, I could very easily have been any one of them. I'm not saying I'm better than them, and God knows I haven't done anything particularly deserving of all this grace, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about how blest I am. And guilty also, because I know it shouldn't take me seeing how much worse things could get to thank the Lord for being good to me. But if no one's really perfect then I guess this is one of my imperfections - taking things for granted. Anyway, no matter how I got here, I'm here and I'm completely grateful to God for all He's done for me.
Counted your blessings lately, and thanked Him for them? You should. You never know what tomorrow's gonna bring.
END
Wondering whether I should actually do an elaborate plan for the next five years of my life. We're at that point at work where you set your goals for the next six months and evaluate progress against the ones you did last six months. See the thing about setting these goals, and making all these plans, especially the longterm five-year ones, is that you always go assuming that the current landscape will carry into the future. Even if you anticipate change, that anticipation is always based within the confines of what we've seen today, due that inherent inability we all have: none of us can predict the future. So what if the changes are so drastic they render all our plans worthless?
When we were growing up, there used to be all these people (teachers mostly) who'd imbue us with line after line after textbook line going something like "Failing to plan is planning to fail," or "Expect the best but plan for the worst," or my personal favorite "Planning is bringing the future into the present so you can do something about it now." The general vein was always this: if you want to be successful, you must plan ahead. But no one ever went so far as to define what they meant by "ahead." Should you plan what you'll be doing tomorrow afternoon? Over the weekend? Next month? Or who you will be five years from now. See even when we were in school, despite choosing subjects and courses and stuff based on what we thought we wanted to become, I don't think we were really working towards a plan. We were just following the well-beaten path. Our lives were never abstract. You get born. Go to school, primary, secondary, uni (where there's a whole JAB whose job is to assign courses to people), and then look for a job. So now that part is over for me. The next part is a little more uncharted, and yes I do get a lot of advice and everything on what I should do next, but it's always something figurative like be the best you you can be.
And while there's obviously something to be said for planning, what about creativity? Innovation? Openness to opportunity, whatever it may be? "Great achievement has no roadmap." went someone on an episode of The West Wing. You'll be surprised how many things were invented as a by the way. Fleming discovered penicillin by accident when he was studying certain bacteria. Mozart and Franz Joseph Haydn didn't study the classics; they created them. A guy takes his dog out for a walk, notices blackjack stuck onto the dog's clothes and his trousers, takes a closer look, and out comes Velcro. All the way till gravity, and the Archimedes principle (all that guy had to do was take a bath - imagine that). These people did not go out looking for those opportunities. All they did was kept an open mind. And opened their eyes to the world around them. Why don't we live like that any more? It clearly worked for them. But not us, no. We all need to know where we're headed and how it'll benefit us, and we need to know it now.
Henry David Thoreau, having lived in seclusion for a bunch of years in order to discover the true meaning of life (as a sort of declaration of independence), came back and wrote that "... the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation." It appears we've become enslaved by the processes we've created ourselves, and now we can't break free because it's become a vicious cycle. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," goes that Simple Plan song. If only we could just live one day to the next, and not feel guilty about it, and let discovery be an end to itself...
END
The story of the prodigal son is a story of rebellion. It's the story of the son who rejected his father's upbringing. Went off on his own and led a wild life of adventure and anarchy. Did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Squandered everything, literally, spiritually, physically. When faced with failure and despair, he came back home, willing to do whatever to win back his father's favor. Here's the thing - in that story, he never at any point lost it. All he needed to do, as he found out, was come back and say he was sorry. And he'd have been taken back. This was in a parable. The father in the story was God. So I think it's safe to assume that if a thing like this ever happened in real life as described, two things would not happen: the father, being human, might be just a little less gracious; the prodigal son's not gonna be humble enough to realize when he's failed that he can come back and grovel.
Ever wondered what happens to a person to make them become a victim (in their head) of everything that happens to them? I have. Why would someone who could very easily have had it all, someone who did almost have it all, suddenly just stalk back and tell everyone who loved them to leave them alone. Someone who's old enough that this is not just ADD. Why would they go ahead and conclude that everyone's so ashamed of them it would be better if it was just assumed they didn't exist at all. If you were a parent, is there a tipping point? What would you do if that person was your child? If you'd done everything you thought possible, said everything you could think about, given and broken ultimatum after ultimatum, and still nothing. You know how they keep telling us love conquers all-is there be a time span after which we can conclude love has failed?
"Asiyefunzwa na mamaye hufunzwa na ulimwengu" is a saying that I think is targeted at the mothers (teach your children) just as much as it's targeted at the kids (accept your mother's teachings). Just the mere fact that it exists should be evidence that any part of that system could fail.
Apparently, human cells regenerate once every seven years. Sorta like snakes shedding their skin. So when we say stuff like "People don't change," it must drive these scientists crazy. Because we're always changing in the most basic of ways. At any moment, we could suddenly be a whole new man. Like at any moment, we could have a whole fresh set of options, and second chances. Primal regeneration, however, has nothing to do with how we harness those chances. That needs to come from us. It needs to be a concious decision. And it needs to be made each and every day, for the rest of our lives.
So to this prodigal son, I'm at world's end. There's this guy who says that struggles and disappointments may be what keeps us going. That maybe we all need to mess up so we can step up. I sincerely hope that's true, and that it'll happen for you. Everything I wanna say has been said so eloquently by Sidewalk Prophets:
Last time we spoke,
You said you were hurting,
And I felt your pain in my heart,
I want to tell you,
That I keep on praying,
Love will find you where you are,
I know cause I've already been there,
So please hear these simple truths,
Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
These are the words I would say
END
I'm back.
This was how Michael Jordan, the greatest b-ball player the world had ever know, relaunched his career in basketball around 1995 after a 2-year leave of absence to pursue other interests. In 2010, LeBron James went and held a press conference just to tell people he was changing teams, and backed it up with a twitter page, aptly named KingJames. Michael Jordan did it in two words, on his way to the court, after a two-year absence, and LeBron James tried to hold the world hostage with live conferences and twitter pages and shizznit. Anyway, I digress.
The Hope Diamond was the single-most famous gemstone in the history of gemstones. Back in the mid-1900's it came under the possession of a diamond merchant called Harry Winston. He was later convinced by one of the Smithsonian's curators to donate it for a national gem collection. When he did, the most sought-after, famous diamond in the world, he posted it through regular US Mail. And it arrived. The point is, sometimes there's something to be said for hiding things in plain sight. This is why the blog's always had my name, and why it's referenced on my facebook, and every other site I'm listed on. However, the machine sorta broke down last year, and more people who know me than I'm comfortable with started reading it, so with time it became harder for me to be honest on here, so it's become that much harder to write, period. Which might be why I went underground.
But like I said, hopefully, I'm back.
And I'm moving. To SA. It's always been part of the longterm plan that at some point I'd go live there, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. I'd personally slated it for June/July later in the year, after I've had much more time to settle down. I can't say I don't relish a good challenge, who wouldn't? The news just came a little suddenly is all. So now I have two weeks to tone down 25 years worth of a living and wrap it all up in a suitcase and uproot myself to a whole new land. Where I know not one soul. Among people who're admittedly not the friendliest in the world.
So parts of me can't wait to go, I've always wanted to live in the first world, and this appears to be the closest I'll get for a while. And part of me can't believe how much I'm being asked to leave behind. You never realise how big a part of your life stuff is till you lose it. Now I gather I'm going to have to try much harder if I'm going to make it down there. We used to chant a line when I was in primary school that did not mean anything to me back then. I just thought of it now and it's a completely loaded line. "If it is to be, it's up to me."
Babe Ruth was a baseball player in the early 1900's. He's the guy Associated Press named the greatest athlete of the 20th Century. This was the thing about him: he didn't just hit the ball, like all other great baseball players. He'd actually tell you where he was gonna hit the home run beforehand, and he'd hit it there regardless how the pitcher tried to twist it. You don't see focus like that very often. I wish it was that easy in life. I've clearly got a long road ahead of me. If destiny's really not the life we're given to live, but rather the path we choose for ourselves, then all I'm asking for is wisdom to make the right choices, and strength to follow through.
END
