Life has never been simple, and only threatens to become more complicated with each day that passes.
Sometimes I flirt with the idea that perhaps I was destined to struggle with so much so that I can learn the lessons that need to be learnt to share them with others.
But my gut says that is not true.
“Whatever ill you experience is sent forth by your own hands.”
A verse from the Qur’an that is always a stark reminder that life is always more difficult when you are unaware of the full breadth of the consequences of your choices and decisions.
The less wisdom you have about life when you set out to create one from very little at your disposal, the more mistakes you must make to acquire the wisdom that others simply inherited from a wholesome upbringing.
Comparing notes is forever an indulgence in self-pity. That’s why I never compare notes.
Whenever I find myself on the wrong end of the life that I thought i was creating, I take a moment to pause.
To reflect.
To catch my breath.
To understand.
Then I shrug off the self-pity and forge ahead once more.
If the best efforts of my life will result in nothing more than misery, then I want to be damn certain that it’s a misery that I choose and not one imposed by others.
And in the process, I’ll laugh heartily and mock cynically at my repeated attempts to figure things out by myself.
Because when you don’t have a gentle hand guiding you through life, you need to brace yourself for colourful experiences.
The moment you stop to lament the absence of that gentle hand, you’ll lose yourself to its absence, and become one with the harshness of the world that has no place for innocent mistakes.
You don’t need others to be kind to you before you learn how to be kind to yourself.
Nor do you need others to be supportive before you believe, with conviction, in what is important to you.
Any excuse about not pursuing the life that you want because of the absence of support from others is nothing but an excuse that denies you the value of who you are.
The trials that we face are the unintended consequences of the decisions that others have made, while the ill that we experience is the unintended consequences of our own poorly informed decisions.
Strive towards not being a trial for others by being more mindful and diligent about the decisions that you make for yourself.
And when you get it wrong, allow yourself to be human, own your mistakes, and try again.
Life was never designed to be mastered on the first attempt.
Where would be the fun in that?
Tag: self-worth
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Getting it wrong
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Fleeting Thoughts X
If I were to write without restraint, would you see my soul or judge my sanity?
Sanity is elusive when it competes with the heart.
The heart is not satiated by the intellect, and the intellect cannot reason with the heart. They both swim in their own orbits.
Like the sun and the moon, each orbit complements the other and are never truly isolated in their purpose.
Purpose is recognised when we look beyond the fear and connect with the value that we hold within.
The value we hold within is only considered valuable if it is allowed to create something larger than the sum of our lives.
The sum of our lives must serve more than us, or else it feels inconsequential.
To be of consequence is the heart of fulfilment.
To share what we have is the root of fulfilment.
Gratitude is the fulfilment of fulfilment.
Fulfilment is denied when gratitude is withheld in the face of expectation.
Expectation threatens our composure when we doubt our significance.
Our composure is dependent on our perception of our flaws.
We focus on our flaws and ignore the one who appreciates those flaws to be the very reason why we’re enough because we doubt our significance.
Self-loathing is spawned by our belief that we’re flawed, rather than the reality that we’re human.
To see our humanness requires us to gaze upon ourselves with empathy.
Empathy is subdued through a life of dutiful servitude.
Servitude denies our right to need or to expect, but cherishes our responsibility to fulfil the needs and rights of others.
Rights and needs are most often claimed but seldom respected.
When we forsake our rights and subdue our needs, we lose the sweetness of life and focus validation from others instead.
Validation from others distills into bitterness as we grow aware of the conditional nature of such validation.
Bitterness is the fruit of shame, and shame is born from judgement.
Judgement demands that we view ourselves through the eyes of others, while wearing the lens of our own self-loathing.
It is through this contaminated frame of reference that we shape our contribution to the world, and then judge the world harshly for not recognising our effort.
Our contribution is first done selflessly, then selfishly. Trust is lost between the two motives.
When trust is lost, love is abandoned and hope departs.
When love and hope are absent, life’s passion is dulled, and servitude beckons.
Servitude is the true opium of the masses because servitude deflects attention away from our worth, and directs attention to our utility.
Utility is the saving grace of a life unfulfilled.
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She got chills just hearing about the book
Watch this 30 second clip of how this lady responded to one of my readers describing the power of assumptions and the way it is covered in the book. Connecting to real people and helping them to rediscover the hope and joy in their lives is exactly what Own Your Shit is all about. It’s not a cynic’s view of the world. It’s honest, simple, and radically fresh insights into why you are who you are. Get your copy now on Amazon, Kindle, and other online retailers. Or from my website for South African readers. -
Start before you’re ready!
Today I decided to take my own advice. I recorded my first video clip to share with my followers even though I wasn’t ready for it. But I cannot expect to grow in my skill at providing video content if I don’t start. So this was my beginning.
I needed to stop protecting myself from getting it wrong, because as long as I protected myself from that potential outcome, I prevented myself from growing beyond it. Hope you enjoy my first snippet! Much more to come… -
The Art of Deconstruction
I’ve watched silently, often with annoyance, how it is that so many are considered to be intellectuals for their ability to tear apart someone else’s argument or contribution. The more effective they are at breaking down an opinion that they disagree with, the more revered they are in some circles. That’s the part that I watch silently. The part that fills me with annoyance is when I see that after all that effort, they have nothing of meaning or substance of their own to contribute.
The rest that follow such antics applaud the efforts of those vain ones that love the sound of their own voices as they spew their anger disguised as eloquently articulated arguments filled with nothing more than criticism without purpose. The anger is what fascinates me. Always has. Its origins are so deeply protected that most convince themselves that their anger is a justified response to an oppression or an injustice. But they stop there. They don’t consider why that specific injustice or oppression angers them, nor do they consider why anger is their chosen response to it. Instead, their anger defines their contribution and they garner the respect and admiration from those that are equally angry, or are passively aggressively angry. I suspect the latter group is more despicable than the former because they even lack the conviction to be true to their anger.
Nonetheless, these cycles play out all the time. Often in a public setting, but quietly in a private setting too. It is the private setting that intrigues me most. I find it intriguing because it is where we experience either our power, or our cowardice. When we experience our cowardice, it becomes a priority to judge or criticise the efforts of others to distract attention away from our meekness, hence the deconstruction of the efforts of others to make something of their lives. When we experience our power, our belief in being able to contribute towards the quality of life of others drives us towards contributing towards their efforts to improve their chances of success, because we realise that their success doesn’t threaten our own. But most don’t experience this. Most only see what they think should be done better but rarely (if ever) make an effort to actually do it themselves.
Pointing out what is wrong with the world is easy. I look at the rhetoric and criticism against those that step up and fight the good fight, and most often that rhetoric or criticism finds its roots in a belief that the quoting of divine scriptures elevates the rank of the critic above that of the rank of the activist. This is yet another ploy to appear pious or spiritually awakened while conveniently ignoring the demand of such spirituality to lead by example.
When we have a bone of contention with another, it is not our words in fiery criticism against them that is going to convince them to behave differently. It is our act of sincere and meaningful engagement that will hold any sway over their efforts. Either we will convince them of the benefit of our views, or they will convince us of what we may not have considered about their reality. But without this experiential journey, this side-by-side engagement, the reality of the basis on which we disagree will always remain theoretical and food for the ego, rather than genuine contribution or upliftment of the soul.
Deconstruction is the art of debate, and the art of debate is firmly established in the need to be correct. Debate has never resulted in a sincere pursuit of the truth. That is left to the domain of discussion and contribution. But contribution demands that we offer of ourselves that which we seek to criticise in others. When our opinions define our self-worth, such contribution is far too daunting. Hence the safer path of deconstruction to earn significance from those that are equally frail in their conviction to meaningfully contribute, while the few that appear foolish enough to sacrifice their composure in favour of benefiting others remain a soft target for the whimsical leaders of debate groups.
I have no respect for the argument that points out what is wrong with someone else’s approach, or philosophy, if it isn’t accompanied by a sincere effort to offer guidance and assistance as well. Having an opinion is easy. It means that you don’t have to do anything except blurt out the thoughts that occur to you as you vegetate in front of your keyboard. Having an informed opinion goes one step further because that vegetation was accompanied by some effort towards fact checking or research. However, even that is inexcusable if not accompanied by actual participation in the process of changing the reality, and not just the perception of an issue that weighs others down.
Without willing and sincere engagement, an opinion is simply a fart pretending to be thunder. And global warming has ensured that there is no shortage of hot air to go around.
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Mandela Day – A Day of Conviction
From the archives in my time in corporate. I had this quote from Madiba on my office wall as a reminder never to settle for less than what I am capable of achieving, or at least contributing in life.
“There is no passion to be found in playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” (Nelson Mandela)
The biggest mistake we make is when we wait for others to validate the value that we see in something before we pursue it. When we do that, we forget that we’re in fact pursuing what they see as valuable more than what we see as valuable. That denies the world our unique contribution, and more importantly, it denies us the sense of purpose that makes life rewarding.
Conviction is found when we connect with the value of an outcome. If we insist on that value being judged by the opinions of others, the only conviction we’ll experience in life is the conviction of chasing acceptance in society, or validation from others. And that is not only a torturous way to live, it’s also a recipe for chronic illness and bitterness.
Own your life, and let the rest of the world own theirs. That’s the only way in which you’ll create opportunities to attract those that are as passionate as you are, about the causes that are close to your heart.
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Own Your Sh!t Released!
Just be happy. It could be worse. Don’t take life so seriously. Are you tired of hearing this? Well-meaning friends and colleagues tell us to stay positive, but it often has the opposite effect.
Don’t be misled into thinking that happiness is just a choice. If it were, there would be no sad people. Getting a grip on your emotions is crucial for recovery from heartbreak, trauma, abandonment, and many other trials. Break the cycle of feeling overwhelmed by what happens to you.
Own Your Sh!t is a book that helps you to understand why you feel sad, depressed or angry about life. It doesn’t tell you to overcome it by asking you to do what worked for someone else, because you’re not someone else.
So, stop judging yourself so harshly, or allowing others to do the same. Let this book guide you out of that toxic space and into a better version of you. It’s time to own your sh!t.
The book is available on Kindle, and Kindle Unlimited, and will soon be released on Amazon for paperback orders. Readers in South Africa can order directly from me at a special launch price of R149 which includes free shipping to any major city in the country.
Watch my blog for snippets from the book in the coming days and weeks.
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A Beautiful Mess
The last year has been a beautiful mess. It has been a year of pushing boundaries and testing long-held truths. People, relationships, skills, passions, and even hobbies all came under close scrutiny as I peeled away the layers of assumptions that coated them over the years to test whether they still served me well, or at all.
I tested my hand at mindful living, more so at carving my own path through the forest and the lessons that I learnt along the way, most of which are still incomplete, have unlocked new realities and resurfaced old joys. My sense of self continues to evolve, almost on a daily basis. Accepting a truth about my reality on one day seems foolhardy or delusional on another. But in between it all there has been a lightness in my steps that has been absent from my gait for decades.
I lost myself to life over the decades. Courting authenticity with a naive mind can be taxing and expensive. Living out my convictions has increased the isolation around me. Only, it’s an isolation that holds much peace despite the loneliness that it threatens to share. The peace is the absence of expectations, except for the moments that the capitalist structures around me tear away at my being through the yoke that still weighs down on my shoulders. The realisation that what feeds the soul doesn’t feed the belly intensifies each day.
Uplifting quotes or extended hands to those that find relief in its offering falls short of its reciprocation of upliftment. The multitude of needy hands reaching out while their eyes look defiantly away cuts short any embrace that might once have offered some fulfillment. Fulfillment has been replaced by servitude and servitude proves to be no more than a payment of debt. Social debts and divine rights are pervasive. Harmony and a divine handhold not so much.
The unbeaten path always promised solitude. Perhaps that is the only promise that has been fulfilled. Everything else carries with it the weight of expectation or reciprocation. Distractions and virtual embraces offer more comfort than the distracted ones around us. Do we connect virtually because we see each other more clearly without the social stigmas and classes present, or do we connect virtually because it is the only connection that is accessible?
I no longer serve the social structures that I once courted, and along with it gave up any hope of finding the support that this new life demands I have. This used to be a cryptic space but I’ve realised that any confusion or mystery resulted only from my hope that there was more to be enjoyed, or acquired. Seeing the social constructs for what they are leaves little room for expectation, or even hope. Hope is only relevant in a symbiotic relationship, not a cannibalistic mutually exclusive one. Such has been the interaction between society and I for as long as life has held any promise beyond the immediate breath. Serving the divine is all that keeps me tethered to such contracts.
This beautiful mess is the freedom that such realisations and independence endows. The absence of belonging and only the belonging to absence. It once seemed so vapid in its concept but has proven to be utterly grounding in its experience.
