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...