Picadilly

10 April 2013

I should’ve listened to my mom – and a little lesson I learned

I have been struggling with my lower-back since last year October, in short my muscles went into spasm and wouldn’t loosen up. I have gone through some drastic measures to get it sorted, including physio, acupuncture, biokinetics and cortisone injections. I didn’t see the spasm for what it really was – my body’s way of saying “hey, hold up, take it easy, slow down”.

I woke up one morning so tired that I would’ve sold my soul to the devil for an extra hour’s sleep. The type of tired that I felt is something that you have no clue about, unless you have been there. Felt it.

I started going through the motions of life, simply because I had to. I had to work, so work I did. I had to study, so study I did (how much I actually took in is debatable). Going out with friends required brushing my hair and getting dressed, a thought far too exhausting so cancelling was easier.

One night when I was driving home a robot turned red, like robots do. The mere thought of a minute’s delay to get home was simply too much, so I bursted into tears. It was at this point that I realised I had burned myself out and carrying on, pushing, was simply no longer an option.

I went to see my soul coach (or, what most people will call, counsellor – though her role in my life far exceeds the way you’d define “counsellor”). It amazes me what you can achieve through constellation work (healing on a soul level). It was during this session that I learned a lesson which I will hold near and dear to my heart for the rest of this life;

Honour your journey, trust the path that you are on. Respect who you are right here and now. There is absolutely no need to rush anything – where you are is perfect. What is meant to be, will be. 

Between all the medical treatments, it was the treating of the soul that did the world of good. I woke up yesterday morning, for the first time in months, feeling like I could conquer the world, instead of hiding from it.

That said, the one “medical” treatment that I did see value in was going to a biokineticist. In my last session she indicated that we’ll be doing some posture work. The one exercise involves pulling back your shoulders, the aim is to straighten your shoulders and, as a result, your back. It was at this point that I realised I wished I had listened to my mom when I was younger, she always told me “skouers terug en rug regop”, which roughly translates to “shoulders back and keep your back straight”. I had to laugh, it turns out that mom does know best. 



28 March 2013

The famous five


In school I was the unpopular kid. For most of my primary school years I tried fitting into the popular crowd, I just didn’t fit. As a result, I spent most of my time in the school library. In high school I didn’t know there was a library, until around Grade 10 (or Standard 8), so I was forced to try and fit in. I went from group to group, never quite fitting in and conforming to the group’s standards and opinions.

All that has changed.

Looking at my life now, I must confess I am truly blessed. They say that you can count your true friends on one hand, well, I need both my hands –and some toes too.

In this blog I would like to single out the “famous five” – in order birthdays, or turning 30 in 2013;

The mother hen. Your mom never lies to you and never sugarcoats anything, at least mine never has, – that is Mish. If you want the truth as it is, go to Mish. She will tell you if you have a foot to stand on, if you are being unreasonable or if you need to start building a bridge. No sugar, no sprinkles – straightforward, while passing you a glass of wine. Mish is also the first person to check up on you if you have flu or if you simply feel like life is getting a bit too much. Warm and compassionate, but know that an ace is an ace and a spade a spade.

The creative. Sheri can put paint to canvas, make words come alive or pair pieces of clothing that will make it look like you have a new outfit for every day of the year. A colourful person who doesn’t have even a speck of beige in her personality. If I could summarise Sheri it would be, “keep writing, keep dreaming and always believe. If all else fails, wine o’clock is always a phone call away.”

The princess. If ever there was someone destined to be a royalty it is Cath – Catherine to you, Cath to her friends, but never Cathy. Having Cath as a friend is a bit like having the perfect little  black dress in your wardrobe – timeless. Dress it up or down, you know it is the perfect outfit for every occasion. Cath is a timeless beauty, inside-out, there for a good giggle or a shoulder to lean on. She will hand you your next glass of wine or tissue – all depending on what you need.

The crazy ballerina. I will never forget meeting Kerri for the first time. There she stood in her perfectly ironed corporate outfit, looked at me and did this little twirly dance (on her toes), followed by a curtsy. She made me laugh – and still does every time I see her. She is a ray of sunshine. Also worth a mention, Kerri can do the Gangnam Style, glass of wine in hand, with such perfection, that will it look like Psy went for dance lessons with her – plus she makes it look super stylish!

Then there is me, the odd one. Not the odd one out, just the odd one. I have my own style and like fashion, but don’t get spending thousands on an item just because it is labelled with Ted-what’s-his-face’s name (personally I would rather spend that money in a second hand bookstore). I love metal and hard rock, but don’t conform to just wearing black. I havenever seen  the film The Notebook, but I have seen every Quentin Tarantino film ever made. I like snuggling with a book and cuppa tea, but I love getting together with my girls and giggling over a glass of wine.

That is the famous five. 

We often wonder how we became friends and how we manage to stay friends. I think the secret lies in that we respect each other’s differences, we value the friendship and contribution we make to each other’s lives, we are there for each other (for better or worse) and we make each other laugh (out loud), while passing around the next bottle of wine. 




25 January 2013

The crumpling of New Year’s resolutions


I hate New Year’s resolutions – and hardly ever make them. At some point last year I made a before 2012 end’s resolution, it was quite simple, or so I thought. My year-end resolution was to be able to run 5km. I bought myself running shoes, reflective clothing and a cap. In check was my fully loaded iPod, a Run 5km in 5 Weeks programme and plenty of weeks left to do it in. I was quite looking forward to trotting along the beachside when we went to Durban for Christmas.

What I didn’t bargain on was the illnesses of an *almost* 30-year-old creeping up on me, about 11 months in advance. I have since been told that in your near 30s your back gives in (check), in your 40s your knees and in your 50s your mind. By 60 you don’t care what else goes because it is your mind you miss the most. Back to the resolutions…

As 2013 approached I decided to do the New Year’s resolutions thing. Small, simple and achievable goals (in no particular order);
  1. Do my first 5km road run – preferably before Winter.
  2. Read more – or at least finish my sparkling new Games of Thrones box set.
  3. Spend more time with friends. Last year, due to being a part-time student, some of my favourite people were seriously neglected.
  4. Pass seven subjects.
  5.  Spend more quality time with bf.

The new year hadn’t even started when my well-intended resolutions started crumbling.

In early January – after a Voltaren injection, two Cortisone injections, chronic medication (or so I was told) and one, still need to happen, neurosurgeon appointment – I realised that my dream to run 5km has to be put on hold. In fact – all training has been put on hold, until such time that I know what is wrong with my lower back and what I can and cannot do (to prevent further injury).

Now the crumpling of resolutions 2 and 3 are as a result of resolution 4. I have registered for four subjects in this semester and, after assessing the workload, I realised that most of my spare time will be dedicated to studying.

In my own stubborn and dedicated way I do try and stick to resolution 2 and 3. I try and read for five minutes every night, normally while brushing teeth (it’s a skill I mastered as a child), and I’ve accounted for special events with friends in my study schedule – my iCal app is by far the most overused app on my devices – everything goes in there.

So far the only resolutions that seem to be doing ok are 4 and 5. To date I have managed to stick to my study schedule. I keep myself going by reminding myself that the faster I complete my subjects and get my BA, the quicker I can get back to this thing called a life. Bf and I are doing our best with this quality business – we now eat at the table and talk instead of in front of the TV. Plus, there are special times in my iCal entitled “Date Night”, in two cases “Date Day”.

I suppose the lesson is this – even the simplest of goals require work. Get off your butt and work on it. It reminds me of why I value reading and am desperate to hit the road; 
"The keys to life are running and reading. When you're running, there's a little person that talks to you and says, "Oh I'm tired. My lung's about to pop. I'm so hurt. There's no way I can possibly continue." You want to quit.

If you learn how to defeat that person when you're running, you will learn not to quit when things get hard in your life.

For reading, there have been gazillions of people that have lived before all of us. There's no new problem you could have – with your parents, with school, with a bully. There's no new problem that someone hasn't already had, and written about it in a book," 
– Will Smith.  





09 January 2013

The mischiefs of Meeko

Having kittens seem to diminish your fear of certain creepy crawlies – certain ones and diminish, not eliminate. For example, I no longer scream at the sight of parktown prawns, I now gently – with the aid of a towel – scoot them outside, I can take a plastic bag and pick up little bits of organs and, twice now, I’ve had to pick up baby birds – their first flights didn’t go too well. As a girl, I am proud to have achieved the point where I no longer screech, jump on to counters and shout for bf to please save me.

Until last night that is.

Around 7-ish I called in the little fur-facies for supper. Tulip came bouncing in like a little squirrel cat – all purrs – Meeko on the other hand has a little game we first have to play. She runs, we chase – until she’s had her little giggles at which point she struts towards the backdoor and in she goes. It’s a fun little game, but not when you have a pile of studying lying on your desk and hopes that you could get to bed by 10pm. Bf wasn't home, so I left her.  

About five minutes later I saw my opportunity to grab her, she was on the grass and clearly preoccupied with something. As I picked her up my arm went across my chest and I felt something incredibly cold and somewhat slimy – not normal. Looking down I noticed a lizard smack on my chest – the stupid thing must’ve been in Meeko’s mouth, which she dropped and it found a landing place on me. I screamed, dropped Meeko – thankfully cats land on their feet – took about three steps back, while waving my arms franticly, and, for good measure, took of my top and threw it aside. All this took about 2.5 seconds. It took my brain about 10 seconds to realise I was standing in the backyard, shirtless.

Clearly my dislike to touch slimy, creepy things remains intact.


 

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Lover of cats, books and red wine. Wife and mom-to-be.

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