A Story in a Few Parts

Part one

One of these fine days I turn seventy!  I guess I am now supposed to act like a grown up.  The thing is, I don’t want to ever grow up.

I still wish to view the world in childlike wonder and marvel at the colours of sunrise and sunset.  And find delight in watching little birds dance and jive as they scramble for a place at the birdfeeders in my front garden.

I want to drive along very bumpy dirt roads that take me on journeys into the vast Karoo – where I can stop and just become absorbed in the wide open spaces, whilst quietly celebrating the place where red dust and  blue skies meet.

I am grateful.

I survived a difficult childhood, not completely, but relatively unscathed. 

Ten years ago  I lost my little sister and I have come to the conclusion that grief is something we never recover from – we learn to embrace it and treat sadness as a friend who will visit and stay with us for a while. 

I have overcome serious health issues

The realisation that we all need to put healthy parameters and boundaries in place is a lesson, a painful one I might add, that I have finally learned to do.  I have parted ways with folks who intentions have not always been kind as they have only served to cause hurt and distress. 

I am free and liberated.  Sometimes, being kind is seen as a weakness and not strength.

Kindness is my love language.

I am not ashamed of who I am or what I have done.  Writing and posting my thoughts and feelings in this space has been one of the most liberating experiences of my life and it gives me delight and pleasure to encourage others to share this space with me.  We are not in competition; neither do we have to score points.  We are here to encourage each other, to laugh and cry together, to embrace each other fully – flaws and all

Part two

I am going to TREAT myself with LOVE

Actually, I was intending to write a piece about pyjama days and how “satisfying” those days can be.

The much anticipated pyjama day just did not seem to be working for me, feeling peeved and aimlessly scrolling though Instagram, this thought provoking piece by Becky Helmsley caught my attention:

I quote

“We often say.  “I am going to treat myself” and we mean by eating a cake with extra icing, by booking a weekend away; by buying a new pair of shoes.

We talk about indulgences as if it’s the only language our tired hearts understand.  We throw glitter at the ache, sugar at the silence.

But rarely do we say, “I’m going to treat myself kindly.”  With soft mornings and no guilt.  With patience when I forget and grace when I fall short.  We forget that gentleness is a gift too; that rest is not earned like a badge, but granted.  Not in exchange for doing nothing, but simply for being.

Maybe the real treat is not the cake, but the way we speak to ourselves after a long day.  Maybe it’s not the getaway, but the way we stand our ground and keep our faith when things get hard.

Maybe kindness is the sweetest thing we keep forgetting to serve ourselves, keep forgetting to treat ourselves to.

Yes, treat yourself to the cake, and the holiday and the shoes.

But make sure they are not a substitute …… for treating yourself with love”

Part Three

So join me in toasting and celebrating life and love and joy and sadness, and more importantly, let’s just treat ourselves and each other with love.