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  • The Vehicle of My Life

    The analogy of the car has always been the most versatile and relatable of all when used to describe the complexities of our existence. Recently I’ve found myself preoccupied by its relevance in how we relate our bodies to our souls. But the analogy extends almost seamlessly to reflect how we interpret or experience relationships as well. It’s fascinating but also dulling, because something as complex as life can be explained by something as simple as a commodity used for daily commutes, but dulling because it enforces the realisation of the ephemeral nature of life, and everything we associate with it.

    Like with any car, the more you abuse it, the less likely it is to give you a pleasant drive and a long service. The same applies to relationships that are imbalanced. When one partner is constantly demanding more and giving less in return, it wears down that vehicle of marriage. The longer that continues, the more likely it is that the vehicle will eventually stall, or fall into total disrepair, often beyond a state of economic repair. But we miss this obvious truth. So the reality often plays out where the offending party continues in their erroneous ways for an extended period of time, and eventually when they realise the abuse that they’ve been subjecting their partner to, they resolve to be better and in the process expect everything to suddenly continue as it was intended in the first place. Regardless of their good intentions, the reality of the damage caused up to that point cannot be dismissed.

    That would be like driving the absolute hell out of a car from the day you bought it, and then realising that it’s starting to show signs of malfunction and possibly breakdown, at which point you decide to drive it nicely. No matter how smoothly you handle it after that, the damage done will still require a massive effort, and often expense, before the car will be in a good condition. However, the creaks and rattles will never be entirely gone, so those reminders of its original abuse will always remain. The same applies to an imbalanced relationship. Regardless of how many good reasons may exist for the disruptive partner to have behaved in a disruptive way, they need to accept that they lose the right to be treated without prejudice or bias when they eventually realise the error of their ways. At that point, their sincerity of resolve will be tested in a way that will reduce them to a humbled subject that must begin by earning the respect and commitment from the one whose trust and kindness they may have abused up to that point.

    This is an unnecessarily complicated post to explain a really simple truth. If you’re not willing to reap what you sow, don’t be upset when your crop fails. Don’t blame the earth, or the rains, nor the labourers, or the tools. And if you’re not willing to accept your accountability in the process, then expect to spend what will feel like an eternity before you let go of the ego that drove you to believe that the problem was with everyone else, rather than with you.

    This world lacks accountability and community. In the absence of these it is not surprising that we are prone to take more than we give. We feel entitled to claim more than we feel responsible to contribute. But worse than all this, our small efforts are almost always dispensed with an expectation of reciprocation. We present our contribution as selfless but quickly grow vindictive when it goes unappreciated. The world is in an imbalanced state, and everyone thinks that problem will be solved by farting less.

  • Solitude

    The rhythm and rhyme of this poem dances to the melody of my life. It has resonated with me since I first read it, and continues to echo the sentiments that unravel my composure, while simultaneously providing me with the awkward comfort of knowing that my struggles are not new, nor unique. As troubled as I may be, it confirms that what plagues me is as common as the cold which demands no special treatment except a common remedy for a common ailment. Let her words speak.

    Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

    Laugh, and the world laughs with you:
    Weep, and you weep alone;
    For the sad old earth
    Must borrow its mirth,
    It has trouble enough of its own.

    Sing, and the hills will answer;
    Sigh, it is lost on the air;
    The echoes bound
    To a joyful sound,
    But shrink from voicing care.

    Rejoice, and men will seek you;
    Grieve, and they turn and go;
    They want full measure
    Of all your pleasure,
    But they do not want your woe.

    Be glad, and your friends are many;
    Be sad, and you lose them all;
    There are none to decline
    Your nectared wine,
    But alone you must drink life’s gall.

    Feast, and your halls are crowded;
    Fast, and the world goes by;
    Succeed and give,
    And it helps you live,
    But it cannot help you die.

    There is room in the halls of pleasure
    For a long and lordly train;
    But one by one
    We must all file on
    Through the narrow aisles of pain.

  • Probably Possible

    It seems that one area of frustration for me is that I have a tendency to look at what is possible and then pursue that as the end goal, while most others look at what is probable, and surrender to it before even starting. Probabilities are so much easier to work with. But even in writing that I know that every possibility is a probability as well. Problem is, my tolerance level for obstacles is often significantly higher than most people around me, and that is where the rub starts.

    That Shakespearean rub is not a comforting one either. Comfort. That word is almost as strange to me as peace or tranquillity. There is an annoying undertone in life that prompts me to continue on the journey despite my fading conviction to want to prevail. Words, a bleeding keyboard, whispered sentiments that carry on the wind, or the putrid stench of regrets. They all amount to nothing. They dance or flirt with my composure for a few brief moments, threatening to unsettle me either pleasantly, or mostly unpleasantly, but the insincere hope that they carry with them tugs at the fool within me. That fool that I hold in a despicable embrace. That embrace that jealously protects the hint of innocence within, while outwardly despising the ridicule that it often solicits.

    It’s probably possible to live oblivious to all this and to focus on just the trinkets that distract me enough to keep me pacified, but such complacency always reeked with insincerity for me. Half measures are for cowards. Conviction is a lost art. Sincerity a political tool. Indeed, if despite my best efforts this world still holds no peace for me, then surely I must have been created for another purpose or place. But how vexing is the thought that the rejection I suffer in this world may yield such venom from my character that the world I was created for may reject me as well.

    I am reminded again about what I would want from heaven. At times like this, a simple nothingness. A nothingness of expectations, either of me, or of what pleasures it may offer. A nothingness of words or the need to express. A nothingness of purpose or the need to achieve. But mostly, a nothingness of realisations beyond the absolute present moment. To be left to cower in awe at the majesty of the dust of its confines, the unworldly shimmer of its magnificence, and the embracing silence of the nothingness that accompanies it all. No expectations to meet, no aspirations to achieve. Just me and that beautiful dust enveloped by the joy of being, and nothing more.

    It’s probably possible, but the cycles of my lifetimes suggest that it will continue to flit at the tips of my fingers, goading me on to reach out for it, despite knowing that it will forever be beyond my reach. Perhaps the joy of the pursuit is the reward, and the acquisition of its goal will betray the dream. Perhaps the elusiveness of its acquisition is therefore the blessing I seek but do not appreciate, while what I seek is in fact a mirage.

    These ramblings sometimes deny me the release that I crave. Tonight is one such time when all such comforts appear distinctly elusive.

  • Distracted Moments

    There are times when the idealistic bull that I see about people’s expectations from their marriages and relationships in general make me want to puke. It goes well beyond just a mild annoyance or a light giggle because it is so pervasive that it makes me wretch. The reason why it has that effect is because it is spewed by those with barely any experience in an unsupervised setting. People that have yet to experience life outside of earshot of their parent’s nurturing stares or comforts of home should really stop short of telling others what they should or shouldn’t tolerate or expect in life or their relationships.

    It’s not a romantic novel waiting to be cracked open, nor is it a fairytale waiting to be lived. Consider this…if the life you’ve been exposed to so far has already made you yearn for such idealistic outcomes, imagine how much more you’ll yearn for when you’ve had that many more experiences behind you which will open your eyes to realities you always thought belonged in someone else’s life?

    Every mistake that you thought you made just once because you’ll know better in future suddenly slaps you with a different glove concealing its cynical lesson that needs to be taught. Every foul-mouthed man or woman that you saw bitterly cursing others or their mere existence suddenly  becomes a point of anxious familiarity rather than a source of pity on a good day. Suddenly they possess the voice that is stifled within you but your cultural subscription prevents you from betraying the facade that is proper.

    Life is not a romantic notion that needs to be pursued. Every single expectation you have will be tested within breaths of you feeling that sense of accomplishment. Accomplishment and fulfilment will be ever elusive because the more you learn, the more you yearn. The greater the detail you notice, the greater the void you see between what you are and what you always wanted to be.

    Servitude, even if embraced with total abandon will not yield the fulfilment you seek. It is like filling that leaking bucket and at times you can fill slightly faster than it leaks, but it always leaks more than the sum of your efforts to fill it. That is how people are. That is how we all are. We only appreciate what is for as long as the sense of comfort it gives is felt by our fickle souls. Once that moment is passed, it quickly fades into a rose coloured yearning for moments to come that we hope will meet the exaggerated memory that we caress of lesser moments that passed.

    The longer the period between what has been and what needs to be, the more intense that slip into the slump of unfulfilled expectations. The very same expectations that we built on the exaggerated recollections of moments that we never fully appreciated while we were mentally distracted by measuring what was being presented against what we presented to others before, or what we believed we deserved in the first place. And so the beauty of the moment is lost, but whose loss is only ever truly grasped in grey moments that finally allow us to be detached from the distractions of that moment for long enough to realise the truth of what we didn’t notice.

    Regret always comes too late. Idealism just ensures that when it arrives, it is accompanied with the tunes of the ballads that stir that longing for what has been so that we are consistently distracted from what is, while stupidly yearning for what will never be.

  • Apparently, it’s my birthday…

    Everyone knows my disdain for such an occasion, yet most still find reason to wish me for it. I’m not sure if that is a testament to their sincerity, or do they just like taunting me. In fact, the latter is probably entirely called for given how often I enjoy taking digs at others about literally anything and everything. My only contention is that this should not be limited to a single day in the year. We forget to celebrate life when we celebrate occasions, but I’ve repeated this so many times over the years that it’s almost starting to sound clichéd to me.

    So if you must, and I say that with absolute affection, then celebrate the advent of the beginning of my torment by meaningfully engaging with me about the things that I am passionate about. Read through my blog and challenge my ideas. Test the veracity of the logic that I proclaim and force me to consider a fresh perspective. Give me a reason to believe that what I am passionate about contributing is in fact a meaningful contribution, and if it’s not, then show me the kindness of making me aware of it so that I may redirect my energies towards that which is more valuable, rather than continuing to ramble about inane philosophical ideals that merely tickle our curiosity but sways none towards a wholesome existence.

    The prompted gift is laced with doubt, but the unexpected gift is smothered in sincerity. Birthdays and other similar occasions that are intended to celebrate our appreciation for those around us simply distract us from their worth the rest of the year. I want to be remembered in a fleeting moment when something that touches you reminds you of me because I may have contributed to that moment of beauty in a way that I might not be aware of. I want to be remembered because when you made that tough decision, you recalled a perspective that I shared with you which empowered you to rise above your struggles and instead saw the opportunity for growth and fulfiment which made my failure meaningful rather than futile.

    Don’t remember me because the occasion calls for it, remember me because my memory calls for an occasion to be celebrated. I don’t have the promise of eternal life, and you don’t have the promise of eternal time to reciprocate everything that you’re grateful for. So waiting for that moment that is prompted, or waiting for the perfect time, or the perfect gift only depletes that which you promised yourself you would celebrate by not taking it for granted. Life. It’s what happens when we’re waiting for it to happen. It is the journey, not the destination, nor the way points. It is every breath you take, not every breath that is taken from you when the occasion calls for it. The way points are milestones towards death. The way points are our moments of pause when we believe predetermined occasions are a celebration of life. The way points caresses our inclination towards procrastination because we convince ourselves that putting something off until a future date that is predetermined by others is in fact progress and not procrastination.

    Celebrate life with me, and let birthdays be the silent death of mediocrity and distraction, while every breath inspires every step, and every step is forward even if preceded by a fall. Wait for tomorrow only if today is not possible, not because tomorrow is a tag on your calendar.

  • CV Writing – Part 2 of 2

    In the previous article we focused on what not to do in a CV, which in many ways should give you an idea as to what to do. However, to ensure that there are no incorrect assumptions around this, here’s my list of key points that should be noted when compiling or updating your CV.

    1. Cover Letter – While this is something that I generally despise, it is required by many recruitment agencies before they will even consider your application. So keep it brief but focused on your qualifications and experience relative to that specific position that you’re applying for. A generic cover letter will probably not do justice to your CV, so as painful or tedious as it may be, review your cover letter for each application to make sure that you draw their attention to those qualities of yours that you believe makes you the best candidate for the job.
    2. Chronology of Experience – Many people get this wrong by placing it in ascending order sorted by date from their first position to their current position. The preferred order should be for your latest position first, since that would be most relevant to the job being applied for, and then working backwards to the beginning of your career. This makes it easy for the recruiting manager to be exposed to your current level of expertise without losing interest after browsing through potentially irrelevant roles that you may have filled in the past.
    3. Summary of Employment – When you find that you’ve got quite a lengthy and colourful career behind you, you may want to reduce the earlier roles to just a summary table rather than going into detail about that cashier’s job you did when you were trying to get through university almost 15 or 20 years ago. Remember to keep it relevant, so not every part time role you filled needs to be explained in detail in your CV. This table would therefore include just the name of the company, your job title, start and end dates of employment, and possibly reasons for leaving, if that may add value. Otherwise leave it out and rather discuss it in the interview instead, if the need arises.
    4. Training History – Another area of pain, too many people include every internal training course that they attended. If that training is specifically relevant to the position being applied for, and that position is internal to the company you’re at, then include it. However, if it is an application for a position at another company that does not use those systems, then either remove it, or position it relative to the skills that were acquired that could be applied in your new role. I prefer to keep the training list limited to just industry recognised courses or certifications with a footnote summarising the type of additional training that may have been received over the years.
    5. Proficiency Table – Another useful but often abused piece of information is a table that indicates your level of proficiency in various standard business applications, platforms, or skills that may be relevant to your career path. This should ideally indicate the name of the application or skill, the amount of years of exposure, the level of expertise (e.g. Basic, Intermediate, Advanced, Specialist, Expert, etc.), and when last used. Include the version of the application or tool if necessary. This table can be a combination of both skills and business systems or applications, but once again, relevant to the position being applied for. You don’t want to bother a recruiting manager for a professional role with your qualification as a hairdresser or dance instructor, if you know what I mean?
    6. Readability and Layout – This is something that I emphasised much in the previous article and I need to emphasise it again. When compiling your CV, remember that it is usually intended to be read by someone that does not know you, and that is probably wading through stacks of CV’s from people applying for the same job. A professionally written CV using business language and not slang or unnecessary techno jargon is what will appeal to a seasoned manager. Do not assume an overly familiar tone in your writing. Don’t try to be hip and cool. Keep it structured and relevant.
    7. Business versus Technical – One thing that works well for me, especially when applying for management level positions, is to separate the job outputs into Business Deliverables versus Technical Deliverables. If you get this right, it will demonstrate a clear understanding on your part relative to what the business value is of the role you’re fulfilling versus what the technical or commodity skill is that you’re bringing to the table.
    8. Title Page – Last but not least, ensure that your title page is professional and not corny. If you intend to include any graphics, please, for the love of all things sacred, do not use cheesy clip art from MS Office. It may seem cute to some, but you’re not trying to be cute. You’re trying to present a professional image of what you have to offer. So look at some of the standard Title Page templates in MS Word for ideas if you’re not creatively inclined. If you intend to use a photo, make sure it’s not a photo that belongs on a social networking site like Facebook or Twitter. Use one that looks professional but not creepy. So as a rule of thumb, if it looks like it belongs on Police Files, or in your passport, it’s a no-no as well. Consider how you want to be perceived, and then truthfully reflect that in a recent photo that represents that image. If you thought you looked really attractive in a photo that was taken 5 or 10 years ago, but it doesn’t quite reflect your current state, don’t use it. You’ll only set yourself up for internalised ridicule when you walk into the interview room looking nothing like the image that you portrayed in your CV, which will give the impression of dishonesty and being out of touch with reality.

    I hope that helps in your search for that ideal position that will bring out the best in you. And if it does help you to land that ideal job, remember us little folk when you make it big. Good luck!

  • Tainted Perspectives

    Too often I witness people that are weighed down by life not because of the gravity of the situation they face, but because of the perspective that they stubbornly hold on to. That perspective most often feeds an underlying need that they maintain which is often based on expectations that they have from people around them. As I’ve experienced many times before, expectation is the source of much bitterness.

    Life, by design, is a vicious cycle. The only exit is death, but despite this reality being known to any reasonable being, it is the one destination that is most feared and often neglected. We’ve attached a stigma of morbidity to the reality of death even though it is life that deserves it instead. Life is what plagues us every single day, while death only plagues us once. Yet we hold on to life, believing that it is more deserving of indulgence, while ignoring death in which rests our ultimate legacy. However, taking a position on either extreme of this realisation is ill advised because it will leave us wanting.

    We are needy by nature. Through a volatile concoction of our needs, our ego, our fears, and not least of all our expectations, we sometimes find ourselves overwhelmed by the lacking sense of fulfilment because that toxic concoction is most often focused on seeking fulfilment from other beings not less feeble than ourselves. Those tainted perspectives are nurtured by our fears which are a result of yet other tainted perspectives relative to a specific life experience. Just as every experience results in joy or pain, every outcome results in an informed learning experience, or a reason to recoil and protect ourselves from a similar situation in future.

    But where does it all start? When is the seed sown that gives birth to the bitter tree that roots us in fear rather than an embracing passion? I suspect that the answer to that question is really irrelevant the moment we attain an age of self-awareness. As has been said, the beauty of the brain is the fact that it uses itself to analyse itself. For this reason there is nothing that compels us to suffer from the distorted perspectives that we inherited from the toxic environments in which we may have been raised. Unless there is a desire to achieve more, we will always hold on to less. That desire is based entirely on choices we make, but the choices we make are directly related to our frame of reference that we choose for ourselves.

    It sounds complicated, but it really is not. No matter how negatively indoctrinated we may be, we know what makes us feel good versus what makes us feel significant. Unfortunately we seldom take the time to notice the difference. Significance is based on how we are perceived, while feeling good, in simple terms, is based on how we feel about others. If our perspectives are focused on how others feel about us, we will inevitably travel a destructive path that will find us miserable and isolated even if surrounded by a room full of significant others. But, if our perspectives are focused on how we feel about others, we’ll find that we are forced to acknowledge and clarify what we stand for, which in turn will question our points of reference, which in turn will result in an awareness of self and surroundings that would otherwise go unnoticed.

    Our tainted perspectives are only inherited as long as we choose not to exercise our ability to be conscious and mindful of who we are and what we stand for. It is an ability, not a gift, nor a learned skill. It is born from a desire to want to know more, to want to be more, and to want to achieve more than the sum of our inheritance. That desire, I believe, is innate the moment we’re born. That is why the baby goes from laying helpless to crawling, to walking, to running, because without being able to effectively communicate, it is already wired to progress rather than to remain stagnant. It is for this simple reason that those of us that hold on to the past, or that resist growth for fear of failure, most often suffer debilitating diseases later in life because our bodies reach a threshold. That threshold is its ability to remain resilient in the face of the unnatural pressures that we subject it to. Eventually, it succumbs, and then we chase about sympathetically looking for cures for these invaders of our bodies, too timid to admit that it is us that our bodies need to be protected from.

  • Nostalgic Recollections

    I spent the better part of my youth in an Indian township south of Johannesburg, so this feeling of community and familiarity with your neighbours was something that I enjoyed well into my twenties. I miss those days a lot and still find myself struggling to find ways to bring back some of that old school wholesomeness. Despite being withdrawn and reclusive as a person, I always had a sense of belonging to something bigger than just my family, even though I may not have played an active role in the community. Some of my best times of my life were when we moved out of my father’s house into a rented place in another part of the township. We had less and ate the most modest meals but we felt liberated in many ways.

    This newfound sense of freedom was reflected in our lifestyles. We suddenly went from being a highly stressed and restrained bunch, to a group that had boundless energy and time for fun and laughter. For the first time ever we felt like a really close knit family. We played volley ball several nights a week after a hard day’s slog, we braai’d more often than our doctor’s would have advised, and we actively participated in each other’s lives. This was very different from our days in the family home when my parents were still together. My father was often angry and tired, and he suffered from unexplained blackouts. Years later I discovered that the medication he was on to reduce the blackouts also had mood altering effects, and I can’t help but wonder if he wouldn’t have been a very different man if he didn’t take that medication.

    His blackouts were suspected to be the result of repeated blows to the head that were sustained when he was playing goalkeeper for the local football team. He also got into more scuffles than most people, and I suspect that some of his anger he didn’t even understand himself. There would be days when he’d be completely delightful, entertaining and fatherly. But those were unfortunately rare occasions. He often seemed easily overcome with the burden of having a big family on a small income. He was a strict disciplinarian with his own family, but seemed to have a very different approach to my cousins. I tried, and still try to understand a lot of his actions because as always, my idealism leads me to believe that no human being is deliberately angry or vicious or malicious, no matter how much they even try to convince themselves that that is who they are.

    The more we choose to be that way, the more we’re finding ways to hide the uneasiness of not knowing why we are that way, until eventually we stop questioning or trying to change and we accept it as being our destiny. I don’t believe destiny works that way. Destiny doesn’t dictate our character or personality or choices in life. Destiny, for me, is only the culmination of events that we have no direct and complete influence over. Everything else is subject to the limited free will that we’ve been given. I believe that how we choose to respond to the events that destiny throws at us determines our success or failure as individuals and as human beings. When we give in to the destructive influences that tempt us to take the easy way out, we end up selling ourselves short and losing a part of our soul that will always be extremely difficult to rediscover.

    I don’t think my father found enough motivation around him to want to be better than what he was. He was a very intelligent man, but he had no one that seemed to believe in him. There was never a shortage of people to judge him or criticise him, but I don’t recall ever seeing anyone that showed a genuine interest in what made him the angry man that he was. I often think that only when I truly appreciate the influence that my father had on my life, and only when I achieve a reasonable understanding of what made him the person that he was, will I be able to progress in my own life as a better person, father and human being.

    An extract from that book I never wrote. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Somehow it feels as if I’m growing closer to the point where the words will bleed easily from my fingers the moment I resolve to do it. I hope that happens soon because I desperately need a ventlet from all the noise right now.