Letter 19 of 19

Ereng 24 hours mo ngwaneng?

I'm a big fan of countdowns. The end of the year countdown is one of the most exciting countdowns ever. If it could have a theme song for you 2019, it would definitely be the final countdown by Europe. That and the version that most South Africans think during those first few seconds of the song. I was in grade 1 when TKzee released Shibobo but I definitely remember singing along to it. I'll be singing it today. Only this time, Linda is in the 18th area...halakasha!

  

This final letter of the series wraps up my themes for 2019. I've already touched on Isaiah 60:22 and Fireworks so today I'd like to close off with gratitude.

The thing about gratitude is that it's like oxygen. You don't see it and you barely notice its importance but you can't live without it. This year I learnt that in order for me to have balance I needed to inhale gratitude and exhale all things negative. Being grounded in gratitude this year has also made me aware of something. There's a "Look at God" or "God is great" narrative that we push strongly only when things are good or going our way. We brush it aside when things aren't going according to our own plans. I've learnt that being grateful shouldn't be seasonal. I guess, I didn't just look at what I'm grateful for in 2019. I find myself gazing back at the entire decade as if a slideshow is playing in front of me.

I remember jamming to I got a feeling by Black Eyed Peas towards the end of 2009. I was spot on about that feeling. This past decade has been amazing. It has been filled with grace and adventure. I've met incredible people and I've seen the world from the perspective of others. I've learnt so much and also got to discover just how much I needed to unlearn. I haven't always been grateful and that's okay. I'm grateful now and that's all that matters.

As you take your final breaths 2019 I'd like to mediate on my final countdown song.

My final countdown song isn't about a famous musician leading a soccer team into victory. Neither is it about how humanity has made the planet inhabitable. My final countdown song is about me bidding farewell to all parts of me that I've outgrown. Gently. My final countdown song is the anticipation of remaining true to my journey of healing and self love.

You've been a pain 2019 but you've also been quite an eye opening ride. You've punched me outside of my comfort zone. You've shown me mercy and grace. Thank you for teaching me self love and self kindness.

I'll make the most of today because I can't wait for you to end.  Oh and before I forget,  2019, thank you for life and her lessons...

Regards

Linda 

Letter 18 of 19

Hello 2019,

We're on day 364. Can you believe it?! I mentioned yesterday that I'll be wrapping up the year reflecting on my themes. Let's do fireworks today.

I've always liked fireworks. How they just glow in the dark as if they are putting on a show. They fascinated me at first sight. Then there was that time when they burnt me and I avoided them. Now, I like to admire them from a distance. I doubt there will be a time when I don't like them. Maybe someday when I'm a parent fussing about safety. Maybe. Today I'd like to think about how I've changed throughout the years and how I'm anticipating more character transformation.

I had just completed Grade 2 at the end of 1999. I don't remember much from that time. I know this was when tomboy Linda began her naughty phase. The main song went something along the lines of "the year 2000...lo nyaka ushukumis' umzimba". Or something like that. Memorizing lyrics wasn't my strong point back then. I knew Brenda Fassie was a big deal. I had no idea just how lit Grade 3 would be.

At the end of 2009 I was waiting for my Grade 12 results. I had no idea how the following year would be. I found solace in the fact that it wouldn't be anything like high school. Soulja boy's kiss me through the phone made sense. I was contemplating cutting off my hair. I had no idea what trauma or triggers meant. This despite having battled multiple anxiety attacks, poor health and drastic weight loss in the last 3 years of high school.

It's 2019 and I'm standing at the end of another decade waiting to close its chapter. I've delivered so many promises I made to the little girl I was. I'm kinder to myself. My values are verbs and not just decorated adjectives. I'm content with my body. I've given up on the hope of being a bit taller. I'm working on acknowledging emotional wounds and I'm actively searching for healing. I still suck at memorizing lyrics. I've been rocking dreadlocks as my signature hairstyle for the past nine years. I know now that adulting is a trap!

I wonder who I will be in 2029. My guess is that I will be a whole other version of myself. I think today I'm praying for her and those who will be around her.

Future Linda, I hope you still consider your smile as a super power. I hope that you understand healing better. I'd like to wish that you're a regular gym person or physically active in some form. Knowing you, I'm not putting my money on this. I pray that you're still selfless, kind and loving. I hope that you're even kinder to yourself and patient when you forget to be. I hope you're not scared to make mistakes. I wonder if you'll be hesitant to enter into 40 just as much as you're not looking forward to 30. I hope that you still believe in the validity of your dreams and your sense of humour. I hope that you know just how brave you are. I pray that you bring light to those around you without burning yourself. I pray that you still fear God.

You're welcome to forget any of the above but please remember this: in 2019 you chose yourself and this was one of your bravest decisions ever. You are a personification of fireworks...

Letter 17 of 19

Good morning 2019,

How are you on this fine day?

I've told you almost everything that is on my mind since the series began. Well, everything I could manage to get off my chest. On your last three days, I'd like to focus on the three themes I had for you and just reflect on how far I've come. Seeing that it's the last Sunday, let me take you to church 2019.

My scripture theme for this year was Isaiah 60:22. What a battle! I think that this is mainly because when I picked this theme I blindly thought that I was being led to the year of the "right time". I had no idea that it would actually be the year when I get to question almost everything...timing included.

I've had my fair share of nos this year. They came during moments when I desperately needed yesses. In the midst of the war between disappointment and acceptance, there you were Isaiah 60:22. Staring right straight at me.

I found myself in a very unusual and unfamiliar spaces. Spaces where I asked you not to make certain things happen. Spaces where I questioned my intentions and those around me. Spaces where I was no longer occupied by bazothini abantu. Spaces where I questioned the foundation of my perceptions. Who exactly was this time right for? Was my disappointment in the nos really anchored on my own trajectory? Or was it motivated by projections of expectations from others ?

The expectations letter is one of those letters I wasn't ready to write. Not on your timeline 2019. Yes, you've been the mirror on the wall revealing just how much expectations are suffocating. Yes, you've led me to deep conversations with friends on specific ones which we find toxic. Still, you won't see that letter. No.Not now at least. I'm still healing.

As you take your final stretch, I'd like to give you credit for where you've been kind to me. The time was right for self love. The time was right for me to begin my journey of healing. The time was right for me to take my health seriously. The time was right for me to focus on myself a little bit more. The time was right for me to leave my comfort zone. The time was right for me to rely on God for validation. The time was right for me to accept parts of myself that I had neglected.

During all this I got to notice that the right time is not just based on yes and things going your way. When the time is right God also says no. There's a right time for things not to go our way. There is a right time for us to realise our imperfections and shortcomings. There is also the right time for God to say wait. I should know this, given the context of my name...

Did you have to be so complex 2019? 

#LettersTo2019 Extra

Dear #lifeandherlessons family,

I hope this finds you snuggled up somewhere and enjoying the blog.

I've been looking at the audience stats and I realised just how the circle of readers is growing in all corners of the world. Wow! When this reflective journey began I had no idea that it would get to this. I'm so thankful. I've put this together to show some appreciation to all of you...

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much! You're welcome to send more questions my way.

Kind regards 

Linda 

Letter 16 of 19

Hello 2019,

There's load shedding at home. This is an intentional power shutdown where electricity supply is stopped. It happens across the globe actually. I think they call it brown outs. I'm not sure how long it will be out for. I never really know when I'm back in my home village. It could be hours. This load shedding issue is one of the things my fellow countrymen complain about. You would swear it's our biggest problem. Regardless of the politics, it does bring its bit of inconvenience.

Another inconvenience today is that I don't really feel like talking to you 2019. I wish you could have been switched off with the electricity and then we wake up to 2020. It doesn't work like that though? Does it? The adulting gig comes without that bubble. On these streets you stick things out and you see them through.

I'm having one of your challenging days. I feel like my emotional system is overwhelmed and I too need to shut down some parts in order to function. The trouble is picking which to switch off. The trick is that it's not like I can eeny, meeny, miney mo myself out of moments like this. They always feel like they have a domino effect. This one falls, trips the other and causes it to fall...the rest is history.

Last year, in Letter 14, I was telling 2018 how she introduced me to parts of myself that I didn't know existed. This year, 2019, I think you turned things up a notch and I got to venture deeper into this. I sat in the darkness that you've brought, lit the candle and as I watched through the flame I've had to think. In silence. You'll be amazed at how much natural sound electricity distracts us from.

I'm listening to the birds chirp outside my window, my stomach growls from time to time and the wind is wrestling with trees. My thoughts are drifting to things I've learnt about myself on your timeline that make days like this one of those bitter pills to swallow.  Being an empath isn't glamorous. Being an empath who doesn't even fully understand what it means to be one is a mess. My problem solving skills need polishing. A lot of it. My bottling things up ability is not a healthy defence mechanism, it's toxic. I need to understand myself better. Yes, I know the actual list is longer 2019 but Rome was not built in one day.

I don't like days like today and that's okay. I may even prefer days when my immune system is acting up over them but despite it all I'm grateful for them. Funny enough, I hope that 2020 is filled with them. Well, maybe not filled entirely. Maybe just that I hope it has them too.

I hope it's filled with moments when I am fully present on "purple" days. I hope it's filled with accepting that liking "purple" days doesn't mean that I'm not a die hard fan of "blue" days. No. It's an anchor on the strong respect that "red" is just as valid as "blue". I am not an island...

Letter 15 of 19

Awe 2019!

It's your last Friday. Awe! Today I'd like to think back to all the times when I jammed and hit the dance floor. Even if the circle was made up of furniture and books instead of cheers from onlookers. The things is, you see, when the good Lord was handing out the gift of dancing he decided to just give me a sprinkle. That sprinkle, I should add, is what separates me from poles and any other objects that can't move. I've made peace with this.

By that I mean I dance at every opportunity I get in private. I rarely do in public. I was a bridesmaid at the Lerapeleng wedding. In South African wedding tradition this automatically makes you part of the wedding step (dance routine) squad. I can't tell you how many deep breaths I took to sail through this smoothly. One of my accomplishments this year is surviving it without tripping and falling. I'm your typical onlooker who sings along and passes on the cheers.

Despite my limitations to dominate the dance floor, I really love music. It's another language that just personifies art and it's timeless. I use songs in my every day speech to express myself. From Mdu's Mazolo for when I gibela phez' kwendlu "getting on top of the roof" to share news and Mbongeni Ngema's Stimela to describe eCarlton Centre esdididini for all things "jam packed" to Pharrell's happy. And boy do I clap along like a room without a roof!

Without further ado my top 10, in no particular order is as follows:

10. Sho Madjozi - John Cena
9. Prince Kaybee ft. Msaki - Fetch your life
8. Master KG ft. Nomcebo - Jerusalem
7. TNS ft. Mpumi - Umona
6. Kabza de small ft. DJ Maphorisa - Nana Thula
5. Maqonqo ft. Dason & Saviour Gee - Eyadini
4. DJ Sunco ft. Queen Jenny - Koko Mmatswale
3. Semi Tee ft. Kammu Dee & Miano Labantwana ama Uber
2. Sun-El Musician ft. Ami Faku - Into ingawe
1. DJ Zintle ft. Mvzzle & Rethabile - Umlilo

My playlist selection is very subjective. I'll be the first to admit that there are songs that were fire that didn't make it to my top 10. It doesn't make them any less hot. I just needed 10 and I had to cut out.

Music is the best time travelling machine. I've played these songs so much that, if they could, it was like these artists would ask me for water. I didn't even notice it while I was doing it because I was deep within my thoughts. That or just being purely lost in the joy of the lyrics. John Cena is the ultimate triumph song of the year. I absolutely love how Sho Madjozi personified our childhood memories and got to live her dream.

There are songs on this play list like Umlilo, Jerusalem and Into ingawe that were part of my praise and worship sessions. I jammed to them on days when I asked God for strength to live through some days. I cried to them on days when I felt overwhelmed. I danced to them on days when I counted my blessings.

Some songs are those ones that got stuck and I couldn't get them out of my system. I couldn't beat other people listening to them and I just ended up being a member of the WhatsApp group.

Eyadini was the theme song for the wedding. Every time it plays I get flashbacks to rehearsals and the actual dances at both wedding. That wedding was so lit guys. My mom still can't get over how the bride and groom have mad dancing skills.

Fetch your life was undoubtedly my fight song for 2019. It's beautiful. It pumped me up before presentations, public speeches and all things that needed extrovert me to take control. It hushed me down when I was chasing deadlines, when I felt overwhelmed and when I didn't feel like I was in alignment with my dreams. I had to remind myself that I had to be someone who's living.

Then there's the thing on everyone else's mind. Which song is going to break us into the new year? I've already made up my mind which song I'm transitioning into 2020 with. It's Nana Thula. There was a call on social media for the DJ to play it for all victims of gender based violence. I'm all for this. Living in a femicide capital does something to you as a woman. The pain is very universal. #AmINext isn't just a hashtag. My heart goes out to families, victims and survivors.

I'll also be playing this for people who went through the most this year. Especially those things that we can't talk about. We need to dry those tears and dance those heartaches away...

Letter 14 of 19

Hello 2019,

Today is another public holiday in South Africa. Yes. We are blessed with them especially in December. The public holiday today is called the Day of Goodwill, formerly known as Boxing Day.

I was today years old when I discovered the intention for the day. So apparently "boxing" was when the rich gave gifts to their servants in boxes and they could take the day off. In my country it basically means the same thing but in a "rainbow" context. Ssh...semantics matter than the lived experience here.

Honestly, I used to think that boxing day had something to do with the sport. Made sense.  A Facebook memory reminded me how I asked people if they would punch someone given the opportunity. Almost everyone agreed. Except for a few who questioned our capabilities of doing such. I'm finding all this so hilarious. Even more so because a part of me will always think of today in that context.

Remember I told you how my immune system doesn't have timing? It struck. Again. The punch came yesterday. The way things were, it was definitely an upper cut. I got up early for the Christmas lunch preparations but these were cut short by that TKO. I spent most of the day in bed feeling like a stranger inside my own body. I still do but I've learnt to soldier on.

This morning I actually want to admit that I don't get the lesson behind my health woes. I get that things could be worse. I'd just definitely trade my immune system for a better one. It's annoying and exhausting. Im tired. Maybe the lesson is that bad days are equally important as good ones.

I'm always hesitant to draft up wish lists for the coming year but I can't help it. In 2020 I'm praying for less consultations, prescriptions and having to endure side effects...

Letter 13 of 19

Merry Christmas 2019!

On days leading up to today I've realised just how days like this one were one of the treasures of childhood. As children, we had no grasp of what really goes on on Christmas. We got excited over the story of baby Jesus in the manger. We were delighted to have reached the highlight of our holidays. Most times, we had even lost track of which day of the week was. All that mattered was that school wasn't opening anytime soon.

Christmas day was mostly about getting those new clothes and the treats that came with them. We had no idea what the birth of Christ truly meant, what a budget was or just how hard people worked to get those meals and treats ready. We didn't have the entire picture back then. A part of me still feels like we never will but that's a story for another day.

The build up to Christmas was a whole other ball game for the adults. Especially where the shopping was concerned. When we shopped early for Christmas at home I used to get frustrated. I liked it more when we shopped later. This meant that I didn't have to wait long to put on the new clothes. I realised in recent years that things were different for my mother. She preferred shopping earlier because it was more convenient for her. My favourite year was one of her worst. It hadn't been a good year and she was not in good financial standing. I had no idea.

This year I had so many other conversations with her that made me look at my childhood differently. She shielded and protected us from so much. I guess this year I also got to see a whole new side of her. Adulting just made me aware that our parents are also human. Humans who had entire lives before we came on board. Humans who continue to shield us from things we may possibly only know when we have bundles of our own. Humans who survived toxic systems which affected them in ways we can only imagine.

A few days ago her former colleagues, who are like family to her, threw her a surprise party. They all met while she was still teaching. She's now retired. This special occasion made me see her through the eyes of her other daughters. She's dramatic in all areas of her life. She genuinely cares for others and she's such a joker. She's also very protective. All the traits of those givers who also need to receive so much love and care in return.  I wish she knew this. I wish her mother before her knew this. I wish that one day I too will know this and live it for my daughter...

Christmas in adult mode isn't anything like what it used to be. The only thing which remains the same is the overwhelming feeling of gratitude.

2019, did I mention that my mother was born on this day? Happy birthday to her! 

Letter 12 of 19

Dear 2019,

Just one more week and you'll be no more. Yay!

Back in the day this used to be one of my least favourite days. It used to be a thorn on my side because I couldn't wait for tomorrow. I couldn't wait for the treats, putting on my new clothes and roaming the streets. It's still a weird day for me. For different reasons this time. I'm not looking forward to putting on an outfit and I discovered how those seven colour meals come into being - labour! The only thing I don't miss about childhood is roaming the streets. Keeping indoors is a bliss.

There were so many times this year when I questioned this whole adulting business. Is it really necessary? Why can't we all remain forever young? To think that I've been waiting so long to be this age. Only to realise that I've been sold lies. Lies, lies and more lies. Adulting is a trap. Half of the things I couldn't wait to do don't excite me. The other half had responsibility clauses that I wasn't aware of. Yikes!

One of the things I enjoy about this adulting business is having the opportunity to let those younger than me in on things I wished I knew better at their age. I'm devoted to making them aware that failure is not denial and that perfection is an illusion. I also would like to think I encourage them to be themselves outside of external expectations and definitions.

I like being a mentor. I think that I can safely say that it's one of the reasons why I'm on this planet. It's a calling. Typing this was easier than living the experience though. I've always been hesitant of seeing myself in this light. We all have things about ourselves that we don't see because of self doubt, insecurities and other perceptions. This is definitely one of those instances for me. 2019, you've made me accept the pros and cons of this part of me.

So my current line of work places me in a unique position to mentor. Every single week I go through experiences which make me dread it or appreciate it. The bad days are draining. The good ones are rewarding on so many levels. The challenge on all the days is to keep a consistent composure and to remain neutral. The draining days are just that. I navigate through condescending remarks, a disregard of my physical and intellectual presence and constant provocation. I always joke that one day I'll write a book about this. I pray that the universe holds me to this.

The rewarding days, on the other hand, are magical. I'm challenged to be a better version of myself, I have the most engaging conversations and I get to see amazing talent blossom in front of my eyes.

On these rewarding days I hear I'm a good mentor. I'm told that I played a role in the realisation of dreams and in guiding people into believing in themselves a bit more. I'm adorned by appreciation messages and shout outs. I'm told that I'm an inspiration and that I touch lives. Imagine that?!

Honestly, I'm working on believing this fully.  I'm working on accepting compliments and centering myself on my strong personality traits without feeling shy or overwhelmed by imposter syndrome. It's okay to be good at something and appreciate it. Thank you for this lesson 2019.

Before you come to an end 2019, I think you should know that I'm thankful for these moments. I pray that these stars I've had the honour to mentor will shine even brighter in 2020 and beyond...

Letter 11 of 19

Good morning 2019,

I think by now you are aware that Mondays are not my cup of tea. There's just something about them. An element that I just can't ever get used to but what can I do?

There's a clip where Oprah is talking to Maya Angelou about a life lesson. Oprah is reflecting on how Maya taught her to believe people when they tell her who they are. She then expresses how this is an ongoing lesson. I relate to this on so many levels. Firstly, with those around me. This has been painful to come to terms with. I could go on and on about this but this year has taught me the importance of how I've had to learn this lesson with myself.

Self acceptance is one of the most challenging things on this planet. I guess because we're conditioned to always look at other people instead of ourselves. We're either happy because others made us happy, we're angry because others took advantage or we're sad because others failed to meet our expectations. Whatever the occasion, our first impulse is to look to others instead of ourselves.

I'm not sure how we get this. It's probably how we are conditioned to think. We learn to silence our inner selves so much an search for meaning externally. I've had to believe my body telling me it's tired, I've had to believe my soul telling me it feels overwhelmed and I've also had to trust my gut about situations I'd been turning a blind eye to for years.

The other thing I've had to believe about myself is that I'm more of an introvert than I am an extrovert. Okay, maybe I can settle for ambivert. A lot of people who've been around me would find this hard to believe. I wouldn't blame them. It took me a while to realise this myself because I had my own misconceptions of what being an introvert is. Was I wrong! I guess my introvert side wasn't having the backseat this year. It went on strike and demanded acknowledgment at every occasion. This process was different from time to time. Friendly at times and hostile at others.

I saw this earlier on this year when I talked a colleague of mine into signing up for a symposium. It was all systems go. Well, until the reality of speaking in front of people hit me. My nerves went from "I'll be okay" to "find the nearest exit and run" lol. I'm no stranger to this Tom and Jerry cycle though. I always talk myself into public speaking and then moments before it should happen introvert me pulls an andizi (I'm not coming) on my extrovert self. I'm not sure how extrovert me wins these wars but whatever it is, it always works. Then afterwards my system goes back to normal mode and I forget the war. Well, until the next time it happens.

Contrary to popular belief, I'm a very shy person. I hardly initiate conversations. I'm that loner who gets friends mostly because they adopt her. I don't really enjoy being around crowded spaces. I survive them. If I could, I'd pick texting above having to talk. I always find myself in situations where people seem to believe that I'm primarily an extrovert. I believed this for the longest time ever because of my line of work.

This year I got to believe introvert me plead her validity case. It's okay to be an introvert in a world that believes this trait to belong to weaklings. It's okay to struggle with small talk because I'm busy overthinking all the things the other person is covering up. It's okay to prefer silence over noise. Being able to express myself in public looking calm, even while I'm wrestling nerves, is also okay.

The lesson I continue to learn is that being an ambivert is perfectly normal. If Clark Kent could do this, why can't I?

Letter 10 of 19

Dear 2019,

Are you well? It's the best day of the week, you can't not be well!

Today I'm reflecting on times when I felt like I was dodging bullets just like they did in The Matrix movies.

Watching tv used to be such an eventful experience. I never got over how my aunt used to scream at characters as if they could hear her. I use to dread how my father wanted us to sit still while the news were on. My mother used to be so fussy over age restrictions on programmes! Then there was the occasional war between my siblings and I over which channel to watch. Regardless of the situation, I used to be so fascinated by what happened on screen. There was a time when I thought that I could be involved in the programmes by opening up the tv to get inside. Seeing Neo flex like that was no different. So much so that I refer to managing emergencies as "dodging bullets".

I dodged so many bullets this year. Ones I saw coming and ones which caught me completely off guard. They came in different shapes, sizes and impact. There were Monday morning bullets, health bullets, family crisis bullets, navigating healing bullets, things that didn't go according to plan bullets, strained relationship bullets and those other bullets we can't mention on these streets.

There were times when I wondered how life would have turned out if I had taken the other pill when Agent Smith offered. Don't we all at some point?

I realised that when facing adversity I still think that I can somehow open up the screen and jump into the perfect scene. Life doesn't work like that. The lesson you taught me, 2019, is the importance of wearing bullet proof vest of acceptance, welcoming adversity and the other serenity prayer.

In all fairness each year comes with bullets of its own. I just think that you were a bit extra though. With that being said, I'm not sitting here bashing you for blowing shots at me. No. I'm showing you my damaged vests where your bullets hit but l stood standing.

You missed 🤪

Letter 9 of 19

2019,

I got gaze at the wonder of the sunrise from my home village. This must be one of our most intimate moments.

I was merely watching through my window but it felt like I was at a premier of nature showing off. The sunrise view from the east side of my house is breathtaking. Before you judge, I did tell you that I got into interesting situations because of "weird" quirks back in the day. There's a list but waking up in the am's to watch the sunrise, staying out to stare into the sunset and star gazing always baffled my family. Yes, I'll accept the black Xhosa families stereotypes at this stage.

My mother couldn't stand that my motivation to get up wasn't to clean her house or to engage in some hard labour that she had to force me do. The sunsets she didn't mind as such. Just as long as the windows were closed and the lights switched on. As for the star gazing, I think she and my father low key suspected that I was applying to join a local Hogwarts branch. I went through a lot to sustain my "what kind of a child does this?" habits. It was worth it.

Before the sun rises it stands behind the mountain waiting to make a grand entrance. Everything seems so still then. Well, everything except for the rooster crows and the chorus of birds chirping. It is as if nature is putting on opening acts. The sun doesn't just appear. It slowly reveals itself behind the mountain as if it's flirting with expectant eyes. Today it was partially cloudy. I love days like this because they add a special element. They bring with them rays of sunlight which permeate through the clouds to create art. Oh what a sight!

I'm wasn't fully present because I was anticipating an interruption. A part of me was waiting for someone to come by and ask me what I'm doing looking outside a window.

I did get interrupted. It wasn't by anyone I had suspected. My usual suspects where nowhere in sight. It was an old man herding cows down the road. I stood dead still. I didn't want to move. I was hoping that he doesn't see me there. Why? One of those bazothini abantu fears. What will this man think of a household were people stare outside windows so early in the day. Crazy right?

Not entirely. Something else hit me at this moment and it felt like a punch to my stomach. There a so many times during your timeline 2019, when I've allowed external factors to cripple me or make me stand still. There are times when I cared about who will think whatever, say whatever or even do whatever. This was especially during times when you had my back against the wall and I felt suffocated.

Fortunately I was able to bring my attention back to the sun rise. It had crept out from behind the mountains now and hidden between the clouds. Creating even more amazing colours. The roosters were still crowing and the birds were chirping louder.

I should learn to block out the noise. I should learn to escape my bazothini abantu indoctrination. I should listen to the birds. I should watch the sunrise more often. I should learn that even on cloudy days the universe has magic to share.

Thank you 2019 for this lesson...

Letter 8 of 19

Dear 2019,

In the Letters to 2018 series I shared with her how I grew up watching WWE. I did this while sharing how I navigated the choke slams of death on her timeline. Your timeline , on the other hand, hasn't been short of "You can't see me" moments. Before you get excited, I'm not talking about the gift Sho Madjozi blessed us with.

Your John Cena moments came in the form of "we regret to inform you" emails. No, I didn't get those for the first time in my life this year. Do I think I'm seeing them for  the last time? No. The ones I received on your timeline just slapped a bit differently. If you've ever been in this taxi you'll know exactly what I mean.

I hopped into my latest John Cena taxi yesterday. It feels like being in one of those Cape Town taxis on the Belville route. Those have the capacity to be packed so much that passengers feel like sardines. I know I'm inside one of them because they always phrase these emails to make you aware that there were many of you. I'm chilling inside here and I'm wondering why I told myself the typical "you've got nothing to lose" lie before I got myself into this.

The truth is that you do lose something after a "we regret to inform you" slap. Maybe I'm just speaking for myself but disappointment does snatch at your inner peace. At times it feels like it's the taxi marshal who wants you to sit on a laptop (added seat normally in the form of a beer crate) and expects you to pay the same fare as the passenger who got the best seat.

I'm sitting inside this taxi with so many conflicting  emotions. I keep telling myself that it's okay to feel disappointed and sad. Stuff toxicity and emotional sabotage. That's the easy thing to feel right now. The hard thing to feel, at this moment, is gratitude and acceptance. What's keeping me sane is my inner being acting like an imaginary safety belt. I say imaginary because the only time I've ever had to wear a safety belt in a taxi was when we were approaching Traffic Officers and the driver was avoiding a fine.

My inner being keeps reminding me how behind every "congratulations" there's a stack of "we regret to inform you" pile that goes unacknowledged. It's anchoring me on thoughts that my denial of a comfortable seat is possibly a long awaited approval for the next person who has been warming up laptops.  I also can't shake off the feeling that I'll definitely feed myself the "you've got nothing to lose" tablet again. Pretty soon. I just need to get off this taxi, sort out the wrinkles on my ego and head straight to the drawing board.

2019, do you want to know what my ultimate fantasy reaction to situations like these ones is?

Well, in my fantasies my ideal self aspires to have a reaction like Miss Nigeria at the Miss World pageant. I hope to jump like my name was called out, get excited like the winner that I am and continue to believe in the validity of my dreams...

Letter 7 of 19

What's good 2019?

It's been a week since our conversation started. Seven days. You know how this number is notorious for being a symbol of perfection right? Today I'd like to reflect on how you've helped me to further unpack a lesson I've been learning for the past decade.

One of my favourite songs is Mackay Davashe's Lakutshon' ilanga. I believe it to be composed back in the 50s. It was made popular by Miriam Makeba and has had so many covers over the years. Words to describe what this song does to my inner soul have not yet been discovered. It does the things! It's a love song narrating how when the sun sets the singer will go out in search for their lover. Knowing our South African history I can't imagine how families went in search of their loved ones after riots and random searches. Most families are still  in search for their loved ones to this day.

One of the elements that tug at my heart strings about this song is how it encapsulates the motivation of searching for a loved one. Healing is like that long lost lover that I've realised I need to search for.

I commented on a stranger's post with one of my deepest thoughts yesterday. He was sharing how he was on a self discovery journey and how it began after he discovered that he didn't know himself . Deep. Right? I didn't reply immediately. I first liked it, went about my business for hours and finally gathered the courage to say it. 

This what I poured out: "Wow! In 2009 I wasn't aware I had scares to heal from. In 2019 I use terms like self-care, triggers + boundaries. I'm unapologetic about my pursuit of healing. I hope that in 2029 I'll stare into the mirror and thank myself for this decision.  Love & light on your journey...". Worry not, I corrected the scares typo to scars as soon as I noticed lol. 

I was no stranger to bagging scars while growing up. I have so many from various adventures like learning how to ride a bicycle, attempts to jump barbed wire gone wrong, pushing brick cars around sand pits and falling while running. I fell so much. This is how I got my nickname in high school. I remember tripping and falling while dashing to greet my aunt. It hurt and I bled. My cousin and I were cracking over how I managed to get up and keep running to notice her worry and concern. She scolded us over this. Back then, when you hurt and bled you were attended to. It was okay for you to cry, pause, clean the wound up, cover it up and move on. Right? 

In recent years when I began acquiring emotional scars I got the wrong formula to fix them. I hardly cried or paused. I nibbled on "be strong" tablets, quick fix clean ups and that ointment called "moving on". What a trap! 

The beauty of emotional scars is that they come with the privilege of privacy from worried and concerned eyes. Nobody hovers over you like a hawk. Nobody stares at you and asks what happened. You even forget that they are there. This beauty is short lived when you realise that, like physical scars, you need to cry, pause and clean them up properly. 

So what happens? Well just like Davashe's says, when the sun sets you go in search for your lover.

As you draw to an end 2019 you symbolise the sun setting on a decade. I'm going out in search of pieces of myself that have been hurt and need healing...

Letter 6 of 19

Good morning 2019,

I'm having a crazy morning.  Well, for starters I had the strangest dream. I was casted as a member of The Lion King alongside some girls from high school. Jiki jiki (South African lingo for all of a sudden) I'm attending a wedding reception of this girl I met in varsity. In the dream we are are having an Instagram screening of her wedding. Then something weird happened. While viewing her posts we were blocked from seeing a particular one. The message read: user privacy settings prevent you from seeing this particular post. I knew then and there that I was dreaming. Instagram doesn't have such. Could this be my ancestors showing me the future?

This feeling didn't last for long. It was snatched away from me by my mother through my eldest nephew. "Mse ku Linda", which translated to take her to Linda, were the last words I heard while I held on to the calm of my day. My nephew brought the storm...my niece. On a good day, she's the apple of my eye. She's the cutest, funniest and most talkative 2 year-old I know. She also looks exactly like I did when I was her age. Having her around is awesome. Just don't get on her bad side. She will scream, throw tantrums and cry so much. As you can imagine, they've just set off a bomb and dropped it into my room.

My niece and my mother are joint to the hip. Their love story deserves a post of its own. The little one adores her grandmother and doesn't want to be away from her. She's a handful at times though and my mom can't always take her along. Bless the souls she then leaves her with after breaking her heart. Bless my soul this morning!

She cried so much! Threw a tantrum and wouldn't budge until we called my mother. Then only did she calm down after the assurance that my mother is on a quest to bring her chocolate. Did she smile after this? Not a chance!

I can't exactly reveal my trade secrets on this platform. Just know that I went into battle. I've had to go through Instagram timelines and bloggers with children on them too. Being granted the Visa to even fiddle with my phone for this blog to materialise is a miracle.

One of the things I've had to do to distract her is to show her a photo of myself at my first birthday. I asked her who that is. She's adamant it's her. I always crack up at this. Now both of us a relaxed and having a contest where we're making sounds with our tongues. I'm not sure how long this peace treaty between us will last though.

What is this 2019? Is it your weird way of making me count the fact that I didn't join the mommy gang on your timeline a blessing? Is it that? Or are you busy sowing seeds and fast tracking my clock? What is this?

So many people have asked me the "when are you having your own bundle of joy?" question. Strangers, friends, acquaintances and even family members. I bumped into someone I met in varsity after shopping for a baby shower gift. After a pleasant catch up, he took things south. Headed straight to my ring finger for inspection. Then he did the unthinkable. He bravely told me that he can ensure that the next baby shower my friends attend can be mine if I do the right thing. This has to be one of your most violent and equally hilarious moments 2019!

I'd like to sit and chat some more but I can't. I need to change a diaper, switch myself on to entertainment mode and pray to the heavens that this bundle of joy doesn't burst out crying for her grandmother again...

Letter 5 of 19

Dear 2019,

How are you?

You know how when you're taught a language you're taught how to greet first? Isn't it a bit odd that you're taught to say "I'm good"/"I'm fine" and then immediately ask the question back? You are even taught how to say it politely, how to address different age groups, which pronouns to use and how to greet at different times of the day. In most cases, you stumble upon "I'm not good" later on after you've been taught other things. Probably even after "I'm tired". Is the assumption that we are always "good"? Or have we been conditioned to just not share our problems or feelings?

If I had to get a rand for each time I answered that question dishonestly this year my bank balance would have a few zeros added. I didn't exactly lie. I just grew tired of the long explanations that were linked to the roots of why I wasn't okay. I also got to a point when I placed people who asked this question in categories and tailored responses for each.

I've had to tell myself that there's a group you need to be okay for at all times. You just don't want to stress this group unnecessarily. They are good people. There's a group that's just asking to make conversation. They mean well and they are friendly. Read their energy and answer honestly. There's a group that's not asking you because of you. No. They are asking to be polite in order for them to tell you how they are not okay. You need to accept your role in this group and protect yourself from expectations that they will reciprocate how you treat them. Answer based on your mood. There's also a group that disregards your boundaries. Breathe and respond. There's a group that you can let in on some of your struggles. You are not an island. Then, lastly, there are those few that you can emotionally strip in front of. Bless their souls.

This year I found myself wishing I could meet the WhatsApp group admin of Bazothini Abantu? (What will the people say?). This person is the boss of us all I tell you. She, and those before here, have been the rulers of us for generations. Their toxic regime has been so long. I don't want to fight with her. I just need to understand how they did it. How they managed to infiltrate and cripple mindsets for such a long time. Also, when are we catching a break from their lies which govern us?

So how am I? I'm tired. I don't think that I have ever been this tired before. It has been a challenging year for me and my family at large. This year has taught me just how much I didn't understand fatigue and exhaustion.

2019 I wasn't okay on most of your days. I had to be though. So I kept it in, smiled and soldiered on. I had to do this so much that "okay" low key began to mean that I'm okay that I'm not okay. That's completely okay? Right?

Letter 4 of 19

Hello 2019,

How are you on my least favourite day of the week? 

I wasn't there to cast my vote when they were running elections deciding that business should begin directly after an awesome day like Sunday. I wish that I was. If I was there, I would have voted for Monday to be a "catch-up" day. Oh you know, a day when it's not the weekend and not a weekday. A day when we all get to recollect ourselves before we begin again. Right? I know I'm not the only person who feels this way. I can't be...

My comfort this morning is that this Monday is unlike most Mondays in South Africa. Today my country is celebrating a public holiday known as Reconciliation Day. I won't be getting into the politics of how this day came to be. Instead, I'll let you in on a personal tradition of my own which I began last year during the letters to 2018. Last year I decided to head to Reconciliationville on this day. The town, which is a symbol of small towns we just pass by without getting inside to explore, is where I'll head to once more on this post. 

I wish I was also there when they were running elections on a lot of factors governing my life such as height, weight and the immune system. The immune system is on top of the list though. I would have loved to win those elections! I was going to negotiate for a stronger one. One that behaves and doesn't decide to take left turns every time it feels like it. My immune system misbehaves so much but I think this year it takes the cup! I could be all good the one minute and flat down the next. This letter is behind schedule because my health decided that it wasn't having it. One of the times when it acted up was during the Lerapeleng wedding back in February. That day was one of my favourite days in 2019 and equally my most challenging.

This year began on a very awkward note. I felt offish earlier on in the year and I chose to ignore it. Before I knew it my system slowly kept giving in to all kinds of things. The biggest stunt it pulled was shortly before the wedding. I fell so sick that I almost cancelled attending. I didn't though. I pushed through the fatigue and pain. I paused when I needed to and I hit the dance floor when I got the chance. Fortunately, I look good on all the photos, I didn't trip and fall during the dance routine and I rocked the dress slit lol. Jokes aside, my biggest worry was fainting or not being present. Neither came true. It was a perfect day and my mom held my hand every step of the way. What a woman! 

2019, you've taught me a lesson about reconciling with parts of myself that I find hard to accept. I've successfully talked myself into taking medication regularly. I hardly skip meals. I've made friends with some fruits and vegetables that I couldn't stand. It's not all moonlight and roses though. I should also confess that this is a continuous lesson. I still don't make some of my close friends and family aware when I'm sick. I still struggle to accept "not being able" to function normally myself. I still push myself on days when I should be snuggled up in bed and resting. Above it all, I smile through days when I wish the earth could open up and swallow me. 

Do I wish that my health was kinder to me this year? Yes, yes and yaaaaas! So this reconciliation is a work-in-progress.

As you draw to an end 2019, I find myself grateful for every resilient cell in my body for carrying me through...

Letter 3 of 19

Good morning 2019,

I greet you in the name of all the lessons I've discovered during your timeline that have connected me with lessons from my childhood.

Today I'd like to reflect on one of those "aha" moments I've experienced. I attended a Christian School for 12 years of my basic education. We came from different denominations but our school had a very charismatic culture incorporated with most activities that we had. Praise and worship was the order of the day. One of my teachers had two signature verses he loved to share: Luke 13:28 on the "gnashing of teeth" and Ephesians 6 on the "full armour of God". He loved them so much that we used to make prediction jokes about what he would share. Yes, I was a bit mischievous back in the day. Did I understand what he meant? No.

It's been a decade since I left high school and I can safely say that my interpretation of a "gnashing of teeth" doesn't relate to anger or weather conditions. The "full armour" is not some old fashioned war statement. These two verses mean so much more. I realised this after participating as a member of a team for the Amazing Race on campus with a "military princess" theme.

In hindsight, I don't think we had a game-plan going into the race. I've always wanted to do it and I just needed to have some fun. What an adventure! One filled with running around campus, the frustration of deciphering clues, 20 sit-ups in less 30 seconds and walking away with the best-dressed team prize. Yay!

During the race I was present and I was just taking every moment in. I felt tired from time to time and opted to "jog" instead of printing and I took stops when I felt out of breath. I only realised just how exhausting the experience was when it was all said and done. While scrolling through my phone, seeing how we were dressed up Ephesians 6 came to me like a long lost friend. There's so much to life on this planet than what meets the naked eye. There's so much to the challenges that we face that goes beyond our initial comprehension.

The race took place late during the year and it got me thinking about some of the hurdles I faced this year. There were times when I sprinted instead of jogging. There were times when I misread "clues" and went in the total opposite direction. There were times when I got the clues right but I hardly stopped to take in the joy and feel deep gratitude for the experiences. There were times, too, when I had my guard down when I shouldn't have had. There were times when I left my "armour" behind.

My biggest take was being aware that there are so many times when I "didn't" in 2019. This does not, however, mean that I "won't ever".

Thank you for this lesson 2019...

Letter 2 of 19

Hello 2019,

Don't worry. I don't feel like throwing jabs at you today. I come in peace, and gratitude, for a very valuable lesson you've taught me about self-love/ self-care. 

I never really knew how to navigate through having phobias or weird quirks while growing up. Being raised in a communal community also meant that there wasn't much room for such. Especially ones that nobody else had or even understood. I had a couple of these. For years I've only kept them within my immediate family. I didn't want to be singled out as "that child who does/ doesn't etc". One of them was how I was picky about which chicken portions I ate and which ones I couldn't stomach. This revelation may lose me hectic street cred. So I'll only mention one for the sake of this post. 

Two words: chicken wings. Yes, it's one of my weird food quirks. I bet you're wondering how. Well, I've avoided eating wings for the longest time. Even though I enjoy them, or some parts of them at least. There's a portion of them that I always leave behind. Weird, right? Trust me, I know. As a result, I eat them so awkwardly. I even avoid eating them in public because of the odd stares. I liken this to how we feel about some "portions" of ourselves. We love ourselves so much but sometimes, we leave certain things out. 2019, you've made me realise this in such a unique way. 

I noticed this year that I'm selfless to a fault. I'm almost always in a "care for others" mode that I sometimes neglect to take care of myself first. In my case, if love was the chicken wing, then self-love is the section that I leave behind. I used to be so quick to give out love, support and care to others without hesitation. I hardly ever paused to think what that would mean to me. I guess, for a lack of better words, this year I noticed how much I burn myself to make others warm. I did most of this at the expense of self-love and self-care.

I'm not sure what triggered this perspective shift. Maybe I'm not ready to confront the roots of my introspection on this platform. What I can say is that something shifted inside and it changed, and continues to shift, the way I do things. No, I'm not turning into a cold and selfish ice queen. I'm just learning to navigate these streets in a different way. 

In a previous post, the Thinking out loud reflection piece to be more specific, I shared how grateful I am for the day I inserted "self-love" every time I saw "love" in 1 Corinthians 13. I didn't break it down back then but I was referring specifically to verse 4 - 7. Since February this year, I've read those verses to myself like this:

"Self-love is patient and kind. Self-love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Self-love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." - Adapted from NLT version 

We live in a world which almost conditions us to neglect ourselves. I'm learning every day how much we need to be more patient with ourselves. We need to treat ourselves with gentle kindness before we even extend it to others. We need to understand that putting ourselves first, drawing boundaries and being unapologetic about them isn't rude. It is a need.

2019, you've taught me how to treat self-love like my favourite portion of chicken. Thank you for this lesson...

Letter 1 of 19

Dear 2019,

Our first encounter felt like a scene from a movie.

I got an opportunity to trade my routine of silent transitions for one of those yearly countdowns we often see in movies. I waited for your arrival with strangers from all walks of life at a countdown party. There was loud music, crowds of people all around me, a loud count down by all of us in unison, one of the biggest firework show I've seen and…well, almost everything that goes along with such countdowns. It was epic!

As epic as that was, I think my favourite memory of our first encounter was watching your first sunrise. I couldn’t wait to part ways with your sister, 2018. As a result, I felt like it was important for me to see your first sunrise just to make sure that she was gone. I needed to witness your beginning to cling onto hope that you were a new book, a new adventure and a new journey. I needed to have my Thomas moment and be present.

You have been such a roller coaster ride of extremes! When you began, I made my usual theme pact. I needed three things from to you: fireworks, gratitude and Isaiah 60:22. 2018 showed me so much flames that, this year, I was hoping to transform them into fireworks. I felt like I needed to work on my gratitude this year and not take things for granted. Lastly, I had to allow myself to be grounded in the knowledge that God’s timing was best. Year themes normally help me in all areas of my life. The way things went this year, it was as if every challenge which came mocked these goals and ambitions.

2019, I asked for fireworks and you sent flames. My health was at its worst in years. Looking back, I wasn’t always grateful for a lot of things in my life. I also found myself frustrated with the alignment of my dreams. On the other hand, however, you have been kind. I have jumped hurdles and seen fireworks. I believe my gratitude meter was at its highest this year. As for alignment, let’s just say that I understand why they say that Rome wasn’t built in built in one day. Or one year in my case.

Through you, 2019, life has schooled me so much about self-care and self-love, being unapologetic about boundaries and understanding my triggers. You’ve helped me locate the courage to get out of bed on days when I questioned my existence. You’ve taught me to allow joy to simmer, to hold onto hope and to allow myself to accept compliments. I've faced some of my worst fears this past year. I’ve navigated my most challenging days being equally my most happiest. I’ve laughed till I lost breath and I equally realised that I’ve forgotten how to cry. We’ve got the rest of this series to unpack all of this.

To be honest,  I can’t wait for you to come to an end. I’ve just realised that, for some reason, writing these letters to you brings back a very unpleasant childhood memory. You know when a bully gives you the “after school is after school” threat? Yeep. Writing to you feels exactly like that. I’m dreading looking back to parts of my body where you’ve punched. My poor knees are already shaking as I think back to times when they had to carry my entire body while I faced you. My mind is also racing back to all the pleas I’ve made for the earth to open up and
swallow me. I’m still astonished at how my chest managed to keep my heart inside despite multiple times when I thought it would burst. You’ve been tough 2019!

I will face you though. I’ll toughen up. I'll keep my knees steady and yell “yeah, after school” back at you.  I'll  do this while I continue to contemplate how I'll tell you how much of a hot mess you’ve been…