PAYING it FWD

One year of living in my own place, and I'd accumulated enough junk to make it look like an excavation site. I felt so ashamed looking at the bag upon black bag of unwanted & unused 'stuff' that I'd collected over the years.

Having been witness to my mom packing up her life of 23 years in the same house, and my relatively short shot at independence, we had both accumulated enough for a millennium boot sale. It seems like the Neanderthal hunter-gather in me, had a bad habit of monkeying around in my flat.

I felt ashamed (again, for emphasis). Ashamed that I had collected so many unnecessary possessions, hording them to myself incase I ever fit into my size midget jeans again, or the 80's Gourmet Classic Recipe Book, should I have the urge to cook Duck Orange (stove-slaving being a painful past-time).

So you may ask what I did with all this stuff? Well I donated what I could to St John's Methodist Church (and this included an array of kitchen utensils) as well as clothes, odds-and-ends, more unused stuff and the like.

After donating too many bags to the same place, I realised that I should be making work of distributing these goodies to a wider crowd.

And so it was that I discovered Rolands. Well atleast he discovered me. Driving past St Georges you will see the most awesome display of fresh-farm mango, prickly pears, juicy nectarines, export sized apples and such. Ofcourse I went bananas and spent an unusually generous portion of the remaining R300.00 bank balance (the rest  spent on travels:-))

The fruit is deterring me from the story...Back to Rolands.

He had the biggest smile and I could see he looked somewhat different to our folk. He told me he was Malawian.

Well that was all the ammo I needed and subsequently drove back and forth giving him bags of goodies, which he was soooo excited about.

(Reason for donation: Felt Rolands was a worthy candidate - making a home away from home must be tough call amidst a xenophobe riddled nation).

Apart from going on the major explorative journey (of the world and self), my big personal mission this year is to pay it forward.

Not even sure how to start, there is so much need, and I do have a habit of becoming selfish with my time and energy when life becomes busy.

I promised myself that paying it forward has to be a long term investment, not a fly by night enthusiasm.

I have seen the positive impact other people have had on my life. Paying it forward doesn't have to involve volunteer work; it can simply involve kindness, in word, thought or deed (the more the merrier!). There are a million-trillion things we can do every day.

I'm no fortune cookie lady, but I bet if you make a conscious decision to make a difference TODAY and EVERY day going forward, you will see your life blessed beyond your wildest dreams. It’s funny how when we focus less on ourselves, we suddenly drown out all the senseless chitter-chatter that goes on inside and become more part of what’s happening outside.

We get so caught up on our own little microcosms, that we forget what it feels like to be part of something greater than ourselves. By shifting our awareness, we shift our way of being - to one of being - positive, passionate and purposeful.

To Paying It Forward

x-x-x

Jumping Off the Cliff

It's down right creepy to feel yourself inching ever closer to the edge of a mountain and there's nothing you can do about it. The solid ground (where you were standing but a moment ago), seems like it belongs to another world. From up here, there's no place to go, but down..

It is bizarre to watch my life being shipped off, box by box.
And with every box that leaves the apartment, a part of me (unwillingly) crosses that abyss too.

I went to my mom's house today to fetch the last of the cardboard boxes and couldn't help myself - I just stood there and cried...
I cried for the memories of the past 23 years, for having to let go of the sanctuary that guarded & moulded me during my childhood, teenage and university days. I cried for an era of my life which is now finished, and one which I will never return to. I cried for me, standing at the edge of this major cliff, sensing that a major chapter in my life had now closed.

A friend (Craig) told me on Saturday that I look a million miles away. He couldn't have been closer to the truth. He said that I had nothing to fear and even though it may feel like I'm being sucked into a rapid, rearing for the edge of the waterfall, he promised me that when I reach the bottom, I would find paradise.

I am trying to convince myself that this major leap of abyss crossing faith, will lead me to this place he speaks of. Perhaps I do have a tendency to expect too much from life, perhaps I am too idealistic. The reality is, I also realised that I simply COULD NOT maintain a life running like a hamster in a cage, feeling like I'm going nowhere slowly.
I don't know what was more painful - that realisation or life as I know it is coming to an end.

I have lived in PE my entire life, apart from two years and a few travel episodes abroad. But this is life as I know it. This is my comfort zone personified. And I love being comfortable. I am not the mad, daring, brave adventurer my new venture claims me to be. I am a comfort seeker and I liked the stability and routine of knowing. Knowing how things would be every single day. Yet somewhere deep inside, there was a little voice, calling me to pursue something else. A voice telling me 'This is not it. There's more to life. There's more of you to discover'.

Call me mad, but I'm following this voice, this divine inspiration. It has been calling for a while now, I just needed two wonderful mentors to bring that fact home. Two wonderful mentors, and a dis-empowering disappointment, which followed the loss of a parent.
Even though those adversities took me ten steps back, it also forced me to reassess my life.

I do believe that everything happens at the right time, in the perfect way and that the teacher/s will arrive when the student is ready. I can claim that this statement to be true, as I have seen the miracles unfold in my own life during this past year.

But before I go (enough with the personal reflections), I just thought I'd share an inspirational meditation excerpt by one of my favourite author's, Louise Hay. Hope it inspires you too:-)

Life loves me

New Wonderful experiences now enter my life. I am safe

I know that good resides in every moment and in every place, and that even in the worst situation, a bit of goodness can be found. The loss of a job or a loved one or my health brings me face to face with my biggest fears. It is normal and natural that I experience these fears. Yet I know that nature abhors a vacuum. When one thing goes, then something else will come to take its place. So I take a deep breath - or six- and trust life to always take care of all my needs. I am learning to trust. Life loves me and will never let me down. Only that which is for my highest good now occurs.

Bag of Goodies

My first unofficial travel entry.

GP visit - Check
Brown boxes flung all over floor for packing - Check
Two lists of 'to do's' as long as my arm - Check
Sanity - Uncheck

I came back from Dr Carolyn today with enough medicinal stock to keep the Salvation Army going for a year. I felt proud walking out of Dischem, with my bag of goodies. And felt a bit like Indiana Jones, the Daring Mad Adventurer, off to explore unknown and unchartered waters. But the reality is, South America is just a different version of South Africa. Same same, but different.

The way I'm carrying on, with ointments for insect bites, cuts, runny tummies, one (only one!) dose of antibiotics, insect repellent (smells more like human repellent - vile green stuff that will send any hunk of a man running, yes that was the point), essential stuff for woman, more creams, stuff for making you vomit less (oh great) and stuff to make your head stop spinning (and I'm told this is not a miracle pill for a 48hr non-stop party aboard a Carnival float), and some other essentials.

Yawn. All this medicinal talk makes me tired. That and all the boxes glaring at me, asking why I am procrastinating with the packing. BECAUSE. I don't know WHERE TO BEGIN. Because when the boxes go I'm minus my bare essentials such as 1. Russel Hobbs coffee filter (of brag worthy status), 2. My beautiful pots & pans. 3. All my kitcheny stuff I love to death and 4. All my clothes (only the bare essential androgynous items remain behind).

With each passing day I'm losing more and more of my western attachments and things that make me feel secure, spoilt and human. They are taking it all awaaaay.

Now it will just be ME. ME, my backpack, thoughts (no MP3 to drain it out), and combo pants. I was never a fan of GI Jane, but will just have to become an enthusiast of all things kaki.

But then again, after playing a hand at the corporate game, the monochromatic way of being has sadly, seeped into my soul...I do hope Rio converts me again. She did last time. And I shall cling fast to the hope that she maintains her high frequent energy, an energy which takes you up, up, up and faaar away. Away from life back home, away from reality.

Perhaps that is where the obsession with travelling began. It allows me to escape, to another time, another place, another part of my soul. I don't have to pretend to by anything to anyone. I can just be. No expectations. No issues dragging me down. Nothing.

Just a beautiful clean slate that needs to become a masterpiece.