hides us from ourselves
it works. for a while
Tuesday 21 September 2010
Monday 20 September 2010
leading by example
A mother is in distress about her eleven year old daughter. This young lady has suddenly started hating school and having panic attacks about having to attend. Clearly something has happened, and her mother has no idea of the reason. Her daughter is either not willing or able to tell her at this stage.
In an attempt to remedy the situation, parents and teachers arrange a meeting. Between all of them, they should be able to work out what causes the distress and make plans that will support the young girl. I do not know if the meeting is to include the child or not.
What is important for me is the way the mum reacted before the meeting. She spent the whole weekend worrying about it. Fretting. Dreading the meeting. And this did not make sense to me, a mere observer of the drama.
What would cause so much fear in the parent, whose only concern is for finding a solution to the problem?
We lead by example. This woman was following her daughters example - being terrified and panicked about going to school. No doubt also not willing or able to explain why.
If it was not a serious matter, it would be funny! Well, it still is a little funny if we look at it objectively.
We lead by example. Every now and then, we need to look at what we are teaching through our actions.
What are you teaching your children? Your colleagues? Your neighbours, family, friends?
Is your example worth being followed?
In an attempt to remedy the situation, parents and teachers arrange a meeting. Between all of them, they should be able to work out what causes the distress and make plans that will support the young girl. I do not know if the meeting is to include the child or not.
What is important for me is the way the mum reacted before the meeting. She spent the whole weekend worrying about it. Fretting. Dreading the meeting. And this did not make sense to me, a mere observer of the drama.
What would cause so much fear in the parent, whose only concern is for finding a solution to the problem?
We lead by example. This woman was following her daughters example - being terrified and panicked about going to school. No doubt also not willing or able to explain why.
If it was not a serious matter, it would be funny! Well, it still is a little funny if we look at it objectively.
We lead by example. Every now and then, we need to look at what we are teaching through our actions.
What are you teaching your children? Your colleagues? Your neighbours, family, friends?
Sunday 19 September 2010
I am a Writer
I love writing. One of my favourite times at school was when we had to write a story. Essay time, they called it. Easy Peasy. Give me the title and tell me how much to write. Of course, in those days, using pen and paper, editing was a little less easy than it is today!
When reading any of my writing, bear in mind that I love writing. I do not love grammar, so you will find the odd jarring moments, especially if you know all the rules about the apostrophe. I know how to spell it, I know what it looks like, and I seldom know where to place it. Do'nt do what I have just done - even I know better!
Despite my love for the written word, I have never considered myself a writer or an author. Way too grandiose a label for my meanderings here and on FaceBook. Or so I thought.
Then I met my single-serving friend on the plane to Dubai. She was on her way to become a crew member on a cruise ship - due to be away from home for about 3 years. She introduced herself as a writer. I asked what she writes, and she said she writes a blog. It is her way to keep in touch with all her friends and family back home.
She had only posted one or two pieces, and yet she firmly claimed the title of writer.
I can do that too. I am a Writer. Whether anyone out there is a reader, I am not sure. Perhaps a couple of people read my writing. The number is less important than it is for me to write in the first place. Because I am a writer.
I love writing. I will do it more often. Slowly but surely, I am becoming less concerned about writing the 'right stuff'. Those who disagree with my point of view probably have valid reasons for disagreeing. I love feedback that makes me think. It allows me to refine my opinions and standpoints.
Of course I see things from my perspective. It is an intrinsic part of the process.
I love writing. I am a Writer. I claim that label.
I am beginning to wonder - is it possible that I am also a Poet?
Time will tell.
When reading any of my writing, bear in mind that I love writing. I do not love grammar, so you will find the odd jarring moments, especially if you know all the rules about the apostrophe. I know how to spell it, I know what it looks like, and I seldom know where to place it. Do'nt do what I have just done - even I know better!
Despite my love for the written word, I have never considered myself a writer or an author. Way too grandiose a label for my meanderings here and on FaceBook. Or so I thought.
Then I met my single-serving friend on the plane to Dubai. She was on her way to become a crew member on a cruise ship - due to be away from home for about 3 years. She introduced herself as a writer. I asked what she writes, and she said she writes a blog. It is her way to keep in touch with all her friends and family back home.
She had only posted one or two pieces, and yet she firmly claimed the title of writer.
I can do that too. I am a Writer. Whether anyone out there is a reader, I am not sure. Perhaps a couple of people read my writing. The number is less important than it is for me to write in the first place. Because I am a writer.
I love writing. I will do it more often. Slowly but surely, I am becoming less concerned about writing the 'right stuff'. Those who disagree with my point of view probably have valid reasons for disagreeing. I love feedback that makes me think. It allows me to refine my opinions and standpoints.
Of course I see things from my perspective. It is an intrinsic part of the process.
I love writing. I am a Writer. I claim that label.
I am beginning to wonder - is it possible that I am also a Poet?
Time will tell.
It's a first for me
One of my friends had been ill for some time. She had cancer of everything. Started off small, but Felicity was never one to do things in a small quiet way!
A couple of years ago, I had used up all my holiday time for the year when I got a call from her, asking me to accompany her to a warm springs holiday centre as she felt she needed to be in the fresh energy of the spring water.
I approached my bosses - they are doctors - and asked if they could please find it in their hearts to allow me some extra time away from my desk. Her oncologist said that she was Stage Four - which is pretty much the end of the road for most people.
Off we went, car packed with swimming costumes to play in the warm water in the middle of winter! I have to add that there are indoor pools too, although we did brave the outdoor ones a few times. Being in the water was no problem - the dash for warmth was the great challenge, with Felicity not being as strong as she might have been earlier in her life.
On arrival, we jumped (well, sort of jumped, more like struggled) into our bathing suits, wrapped the big warm gowns around us and headed for the lifts to the ground floor. When we pressed the buzzer, the alarm bell rang! That, my dear friends, is a sign that we should have heeded.......
Lift doors open, press G, doors close and we rise 5 inches.....then nothing.
Oh my hat - here I am stuck in a lift with someone who cannot stand for any length of time, and also cannot get up off the lift floor if she actually manages to get down onto it in the first place.
Now, I am not sure about the lifts that you frequent, but very few - NONE - I use have seats. Mmmm. The challenge begins!
We ring the bell. We shout - well, I shout. Felicity needs oxygen for other things, like staying alive.
I bang on the lift walls. Eventually we hear someone pounding up the stairs and they tell us that they have called the technician. He is in Cape Town. Two hours away.
Many other people arrive, and they manage to force the doors open. Thank goodness Felicity was strong enough to still be standing, but no ways is she getting back in this only lift and she certainly cannot use the stairs.
After settling her into bed in the apartment, I waft off down the stairs to wallow in the lovely water. I felt I needed it by now - and it would have been more fun with her, but this by far beats being in the office!
For the next two years, in my office she is referred to as my friend Felicity who refuses to die of cancer. She has, however, succumbed. Boy, did she give that disease a run for it's money. It had a battle to get her! No matter what transpired, she was determined to not give in! Not ever! Never. Never. Never. Even at the end, I am told that she was a tough nut to crack.
The first for me, was saying goodbye to her on Facebook. We move with the times, I know, but it did seem a strange way to say goodbye. Her sons asked that we all stop calling and visiting as she was beyond coping with it all. But they promised to read her messages that we posted.
After she died, someone asked that the boys keep the page going, so that they could visit her when they were missing her.
Let me say it loud and clear right now - do not even think of doing something that weird when I go!
Think of me now and then if you want to do so, or if I pop into your mind. That is the natural way of things. But keeping my facebook page going is a step too far for me. And certainly, do not ask my children to do this silly thing. If you want to create a page and be the caretaker - go ahead ( God alone knows why you would want to do it, but it is your time and energy you are using - so go ahead, be my guest!)
I have removed her from my list of friends. Not from my mind. Not from my heart. Not from what I learned from her. Just from my list of facebook friends.
I have often told my dad that keeping everything my mum ever touched is not proof that we loved her. It is proof that we have space to store eveything she touched - nothing else.
Felicity is having a ball where she is. In honour of her, I will do my best to have a really good life. She accomplished far more in her weak state than a lot of us do when we are healthy.
And I know for SURE that she understands me clicking the 'remove from friends' button
A couple of years ago, I had used up all my holiday time for the year when I got a call from her, asking me to accompany her to a warm springs holiday centre as she felt she needed to be in the fresh energy of the spring water.
I approached my bosses - they are doctors - and asked if they could please find it in their hearts to allow me some extra time away from my desk. Her oncologist said that she was Stage Four - which is pretty much the end of the road for most people.
Off we went, car packed with swimming costumes to play in the warm water in the middle of winter! I have to add that there are indoor pools too, although we did brave the outdoor ones a few times. Being in the water was no problem - the dash for warmth was the great challenge, with Felicity not being as strong as she might have been earlier in her life.
On arrival, we jumped (well, sort of jumped, more like struggled) into our bathing suits, wrapped the big warm gowns around us and headed for the lifts to the ground floor. When we pressed the buzzer, the alarm bell rang! That, my dear friends, is a sign that we should have heeded.......
Lift doors open, press G, doors close and we rise 5 inches.....then nothing.
Oh my hat - here I am stuck in a lift with someone who cannot stand for any length of time, and also cannot get up off the lift floor if she actually manages to get down onto it in the first place.
Now, I am not sure about the lifts that you frequent, but very few - NONE - I use have seats. Mmmm. The challenge begins!
We ring the bell. We shout - well, I shout. Felicity needs oxygen for other things, like staying alive.
I bang on the lift walls. Eventually we hear someone pounding up the stairs and they tell us that they have called the technician. He is in Cape Town. Two hours away.
Many other people arrive, and they manage to force the doors open. Thank goodness Felicity was strong enough to still be standing, but no ways is she getting back in this only lift and she certainly cannot use the stairs.
After settling her into bed in the apartment, I waft off down the stairs to wallow in the lovely water. I felt I needed it by now - and it would have been more fun with her, but this by far beats being in the office!
For the next two years, in my office she is referred to as my friend Felicity who refuses to die of cancer. She has, however, succumbed. Boy, did she give that disease a run for it's money. It had a battle to get her! No matter what transpired, she was determined to not give in! Not ever! Never. Never. Never. Even at the end, I am told that she was a tough nut to crack.
The first for me, was saying goodbye to her on Facebook. We move with the times, I know, but it did seem a strange way to say goodbye. Her sons asked that we all stop calling and visiting as she was beyond coping with it all. But they promised to read her messages that we posted.
After she died, someone asked that the boys keep the page going, so that they could visit her when they were missing her.
Let me say it loud and clear right now - do not even think of doing something that weird when I go!
Think of me now and then if you want to do so, or if I pop into your mind. That is the natural way of things. But keeping my facebook page going is a step too far for me. And certainly, do not ask my children to do this silly thing. If you want to create a page and be the caretaker - go ahead ( God alone knows why you would want to do it, but it is your time and energy you are using - so go ahead, be my guest!)
I have removed her from my list of friends. Not from my mind. Not from my heart. Not from what I learned from her. Just from my list of facebook friends.
I have often told my dad that keeping everything my mum ever touched is not proof that we loved her. It is proof that we have space to store eveything she touched - nothing else.
Felicity is having a ball where she is. In honour of her, I will do my best to have a really good life. She accomplished far more in her weak state than a lot of us do when we are healthy.
And I know for SURE that she understands me clicking the 'remove from friends' button
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