12 hours of deep slumber, missing networking event, and even the 4am meditation bell. I still sit for 53 minutes before getting up to brush my teeth.

Feeling rested, I feel something else arising. The unfinished business to claim what is rightfully mine, and following through to collect through the legal system.

I sit back in the enclosed patio, sitting on the convertible beach chair with comfortable backing, laptop on a small round stool I found in the trash pile in the previous apartment. It is perfect for me, and this activity. The universe is always giving me what I need, exactly when I need it, and hardship that helps me level up and grow into a more ‘me’, if there were such a thing.

When I opened my eyes, the sky was clear with a small patch of cloud afar, and now, droplets cover the outside, small mists landing on the glass outside. How quickly things change. Anicca. Equanimity. Birds still fly, unflappable to the weather. Flapping their wings, towards the sea, where are you going?

I peer to my left to the feelings wheel, wondering why happy and surprise make up 35% of all feelings. The rest filled with fear, anger, disgust and sad. I know. These are ways in which to protect ourselves, because to be happy is to be safe. And maybe once we get to a safe place, happiness dominates, as other feelings no longer needed fade away. Or maybe, we get to a safe place and don’t know not to feel the other feelings. The amygdla not required so much. We are running away from saber toothed tigers or spears of an enemy tribe.

Yesterday, I dressed in traditional corporate attire with a bit of flair. Button down shirt with slacks. Do not look like your problems, she said. I felt better. Now, how do I feel? The left upper part of my heart is telling me something, but what, I wonder.

Thanks to the wisdom of a work friend, I keep my correction factual and balanced. Business focused, and get the insight and support from their manager. I am doing what I can. Taking wide steps back to where I should play. The role of a department, as Executive. I set the vision and direction. How they follow and do their work is up to them. It is free to learn now. Everything is available on the world wide web. You can even create agents to replace yourself.

The power is within you and me. How you exercise that power is up to you. You can idle or you can work. Was it physics or chemistry? Potential energy vs. kinetic energy. Potential is dormant and innate. Kinetic comes from chemical action. From moving the tiny molecules inside that create heat, cause chemical reaction, boil and burn away. The one that causes discomfort at first.

Creating movement causing awe. I did that. I made that happen. I played a role. I was the catalyst. I am oxygen. Create your oxygen. My oxygen is created through these moments, sitting in this enclosed patio. I love it here. My new home. It may appear too big for one person. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, living room, enclosed patio, long entranceway with snaking corridors. Two tandem parking bay and one garage. Yet, this finally feels like home. My intentions were clear. Own a place to raise a boy with nanny’s help. If the baby thing doesn’t work out, a gathering place where friends and family can come and rest. A place of comunity with easier access and parking for visitors. To make it more convenient to be here. All that has come true. Be deliberate and intentional, she said. And that I was.

As I step back from the senior manager, manager, and doer’s role. To leave the game altogether. To leave the room of multiple chess players and their plays. I have to think about where it is that I am headed. Do not react. Respond. But why even respond, when silence can fill the space better than uttering of words that waste oxygen and create future complications that had no intentions.

This morning, I find myself well-rested and in deeper contemplation. Need to send apologies for not attending the event, but this event doesn’t serve me. I am never excited to go. Finding it awkward and unnecessary. I missed it because I plopped down on my bed for a nap, finding myself there still at 2 am, and going back to sleep until 5:30am.

What has gotten me here so far? My American friend who said yes to dinner with me and who invited me to her space to stay. Friends who checked in to see if everything was okay. How can we help? My friend who shared the most with me. Sharing disappointment. Work friend who listened and (always) gave me great advice. Another work friend who put things in perspective with condiment buckets and crinkled up tissue paper. Considerate boss and considerate colleague who took their time to carefully deliver a sensitve message with nothing but love and tenderness. What a difference between the people (ironic? no) team who left doubt and fear in my core. And I have to admit the truth. I, too, must have been like them, despite best of intentions. And accept that they are just doing their job. They simply don’t care and are most likely numb to these things anyways.

Help from these wonderful people. Seeing that I have created a network of wonderful folks that wants to help and most importantly, can help.
I was mistaken before. People just want things from me. Not responding for connections and referrals. I was wrong. Now, I know better.

As I rise up to better consciousness, I am seeing the lies and missteps I had been taken. Seeing and doing differently.
And as i write this, the small mists have burned away, the blue skies gently lifting between the shades of white and grey clouds that no longer water moisture. Soon enough, only the blue will cover the horizons. Sun is rising from my right, and the white light it casts against the clouds is ethereal.

Everything is always changing.

Unfamiliar sound causes alarm. The rain last night falling on corrugated roof below me. I wonder, how do people sleep under such metal sound?

Waking up at 4am is no longer up for debate. Finding the circular cushion at the foot of the bed, I start my meditation. Unlike the past three days, my mind wanders about people at work, window cleaning, minor. No, how can it be minor when they are taking precedent over all my other thoughts?

Grabbing a ladder and squizee, I glide across outside windows of my bedroom and patio. Surprised to find it’s cleaner than I thought. Feeling absurd, I continue. Wiping down the top ledges, finding brown dust from floor sanding from few weeks ago.

Peering out the window, I see now. This is what I have been looking for in coffee shops: Movement, wind, trees, people walking across. Wide open space with panoramic views, I exhale and let my fingers connect with my heart.

Outside window is cleaned through the rain, wind and sun. Inside is surprisingly dusty. Only when the outside becomes streak free, I see the dirt inside. And this makes me wonder about me. How they see me is through the outside, and me from the inside. While seemingly clear, image is distorted with our own dirt. I see you through my window, peering into yours. Sitting outside the rain, peering in. Huddled in your jacket, hurrying along, to avoid getting rained on. Here I am inside, observing the world in the comforts of dry and safe surroundings.

How clean is your outside and inside? I am focusing on seeing things more clearly. It takes daily cleaning. I call this meditating and writing.

I cried yesterday and the day before not because I was sad. The anger melted away over the weekend, through meditations and mettas. Tears come from the love and care that I hear and feel. Carefully crafting words to not hurt yet speak their minds with nothing but loving kindness. The skills I know I lack, the skill I am trying to learn with Toastmasters. Inspired by the Vipassana Assistant Teacher, Sonia from Amsterdam. She said everything she needed to, always with a twinkle in her eyes, smile hanging on both sides of her mouth. Firm and gentle. She means every word, and you can hear she wants you to succeed. She showed me what I needed to see. And this also means I was finally ready to see and accept it.

You work too hard. You try too hard. You don’t know how to rest. You do not respect the ways of the world. Go with the flow. Do not fight it. We have planned this course carefully for you to meditate, eat and rest. So go rest. You come from the world that never sleeps. Always on top of everything. Taking care of everyone else. Rest, my child. We will take care of you.

And this message resonated the last two days. We are with you. We are fighting for you.

Resonating with what Sean said. If you carry yourself in such a way that you are not the doer. You become the Observer. Then you become hte observer observing the observer, and so on and so on. Is is not disconnected. It is awareness and embracement of what it is, not letting reactions taking over you. You do not need to carry a sword and shield, because people will respect the healthy boundary you have around you. You will have people supporting you.

I feel your heart opening up. Let your body breathe. Do not resist life. Let life dance through the dance that is you.

Bell chimes and vibration starts. Do I want to get up, I ask myself. I can sleep in for another half hour. I remind myself this is not up for debate. I decided three days ago to get up at 4:15am and attempt daily morning meditations. Not twice a day. While I set audacious goals, I’m learning to set realistic goals.

Being in my new home, everything makes sense. This is where I am supposed to be. Even the gawdy yellow gold side shelf of an eyesore fits in the kitchen. The space to breathe, the walls to separate each room with solid bricks and doorways. I look out to my left. Green Point stadium. Round-faced clock tower that no longer tells time. A black facade of an apartment block that breaks the perfect panoramic view of the east to west, from the Silo hotel to Mojo market.

I rise to the chanting, day 2 of Metta. Yesterday, I sent loving kindness that attempted to trespass against me. Five days to cycle through the full range of emotions. Surprise. A night of unrest. Sleep eluding. Dismay. Confusion. Betrayal. Confusion. Self Doubt. Helped by friends and family open to conversations and offer their support and consolation.

What a week, I say to myself. Monday, a day of anticipation. Tuesday, truth and disappointment. The rollercoaster plummets to the buttom. Wednesday, the best speech gets voted best toast master’s speech. Thursday, a bit of calm and this storm hits me from work. I work until 10:30pm to honor my commitments. Arriving home depleted. Completely broken.
Friday, I finish packing from 6 to 9:30. I move into my new home. Movers are speedy and kind. Two appliance deliveries. One guy helps to push the new washing machine into its just big enough cranny. One failed electrical connection to the stove.

Loving and kind friend invites me to stay at her house, to give the new one more day to clear of paint and floor fumes. I get up early at 6am to go to my new home. Cleaning the brown dust from inside closets, top of ledges. On Saturday, a kind man comes to lift all four curtain rails, hang 2 big mirrors, and helps to get the fridge into its nook.

Having lived out of boxes for a month, and what I am facing at work, I know I cannot live like this for another day. I clean the windows. Wipe down inside of every cabinet. The amount of dirt surprises me. Contractor charges me R450 for his helper’s time after five hours of work. He sits where I am now, and takes in the view. Telling me how he used to do a lot of work for Estate Agents. Until he stopped after they stopped paying him. “They make so much money! How can they not pay you?” I wonder. The poor steal out of need. The ignorant rich steal because they can.

I go to exchange two unopened floor sealers, surprised at the amount I get back. These are expensive. I go to Makro to buy curtains. I see a man using one of the side rails to hoist himself up, with a grimace on his face. “Are you ok?”, I ask him. He says he’s fine. He’s got lower back issues. Verimark associate, he is there to sell mops and buckets. He demonstrates one that I think can work for my place, and he puts one in my basket. “I can do it. I hope your back’s okay.”. He looks at me and thanks me for being so concerned with his back.

My sister answers my plea for a conversation. Getting tired of pushing the shopping cart with one hand and holding the phone to my ear. I find the camping section and choose the most comfortable chair I can fine. After an hour of sitting there, I find myself liking the chair. “Get what brings you joy”, she tells me. So I put the chair in the basket and pay for everything just before closing time.

I hang the curtains. They are perfect.
I use the mop. Not for me. I prefer the one I already have.
I open the campmaster chair and sit down. It’s not comfortable. It doesn’t fit with my aesthetics.

What appears convenient and perfect is often what sustains us.

I have been opening up to close friends. Surprising myself when I tear up. I have reached out to more of my existing contacts than ever before. Taking my time. Not jumping to rush. Even exboyfriend to invite him to share songs because some of my favorite songs were from him. And someone I dated briefly, I sent a note of thanks for introducing me to the contractor. No expectations. Just stating facts and inviting them into my world with gratitude and not expectations.

And I see what Lion’s Head has been showing me. People come to you to fill the need. To help when I am flushed in the face. No water visible in my bare hands and no back pack. Singing my name as they pass, to encourage me to join them at the summit.

I’m not saying we should be weak. No, because is not who we are. We must stand upright on our own and embrace the strength we all have.
What I am seeing is this: Show all parts of you. Do not hide. Do not pretend to be stronger than you are. Just be. And if you need help from complete strangers, ask. Most of them will say yes. And some of them will become your long-lasting friends. Thank you for being my safe space and co-creating our relationships built on bedrock of continued engagements and conversations.

The intent is important, however. Engage with open arms and open heart. Forgive the ignorant and lame. But leave them swiftly, as you’re a swallow meant to soar and cover infinite grounds. But also feel free to land and settle down. But be deliberate and make choices seeing things as they are.

This is living without regrets. Living with all range of emotions.

Rising before the sun. Delighted by bird songs, with no cars passing through the high level road in front of me. Seeing the sky turn into the familiar sunset, marking the beginning of the day.

I sit on this grey plastic chair, my feet on the bottom run of this round wooden stool I used to sit in front of the make-shift counter. Just the perfect size and height to rest my laptop and my fingers dancing along the black surface. Seeing and feeling everything I’ve wanted has been created. I didn’t do it all by myself. Always with help from angels and demons around me. The other place was great landing pad, and I thought I would miss it. I was wrong. This place is better. It serves all my need of contemplation, creation, meditation. A place of community to invite people for meals and connections. To borrow from Dolly’s recommendations, to have “Circles of trusted conversations”.

It has already been two hours since I opened my eyes, and I feel accomplished for having meditated, making my bed, and writing my thoughts into the lifeplunger, that is me and you. Thank you for getting here.

Morning pages fail because this pen won’t write. And so, I find an altenative. Not my personal preference but this will work.

My eyes need glasses (finally) and things are a little blurry. I can still see.

These lines are the minutes of my life that I can’t write onto. Because I am missing a writing utensil. All spent and nothing left to mark.

Resting. Doing one thing at a time.  Closing my eyes to sleep instead of working and achieving. Prioritizing stillness and quietude above all else. Finding it difficult because it is against the societal norm. No striving. No achieving. No accolading.

Today is day 1 (yet again, which I used to lament but I choose to see differently.  Another opportunity. Another day to live. To try again).

Of two meditations. 1 hour in morning.  Done.

1 hour in evenings. Tbd.

Morning pages done, though not following the script.

To love myself.

Become one with the universe.

Have a witness of life.

Contribute in ways only I can.

And be at peace with what I have already

To embrace the slow and smooth

It starts with putting on shoes and leaving the house to explore the world outside of comforts. Creating friction and doing what feels unfamiliar.

It is about showing up no matter what.

Consistenly.

Competency follows.

Confidence emerges.

Another way to see it? Habits change our minds, our bodies and most importantly, our actions.

New vista emerges and we always find a way

Exposed I-beams painted lime green. Buttressed by black clamps with cylindrical pillars. Brown floor laid with cement. Fans turn at different speeds.  Oven doors open and close, bringing freshly baked goods.

Vintage mirror behind baristas. Round and rectangular tables. Emerald green sofa lines one side.

Post Hyrox event, one limps out. Murmur of conversations. Different rhythms and decibels and accents. A baby that cried out is gone? Replaced by the sound of cutlery being cleared, workers talking to one another.

Approaching closing time, crowd thins. I sit back as I write.  Wondering what song is playing in the background. Instrumental cover of well known songs, inviting us to sing along silently.

Oven stops firing. She is not bending up and down. She wipes the outsidr with her right, as her left pushes the handle to keep oven closed.

Water runs as he rinses dishes before slotting them onto drying rack.

We are slowing down. This melody that I wanted to run away from. The quietude of silence. Away from socializing. Looking for property to buy. Personal bests to beat. Mountains to climb. Life to create and offers to sign.

Now that the achieving has been achieved.  The lull of this vastness of space filled with energy that used to collide… I am learning how to still them. To let them…myself settle into a collection of heaped piles of electrons. Letting the valence collide, into one another. Creating new shapes of me. Unfamiliar but better. A shape of me that burns brighter. Less effort and less pretense.

Start writing.

How do I write for myself, without shame? Without judgment? Without performance?

To outpour what is inside? Anonymity always helps. To be seen without being judged.

I used to thirst for adventure.
Dangling myself from the edge of earth.
Throwing my body out of airplanes. Jumping from ledges and bridges.
Gliding down without engines. Moving from one country to the next.
Figuring things out.
Feeding off of dopamine of distractions and stimulations.

This world of unlimited options, eyes darting from left to right. Living through the age of abundance which we humans have not yet adapted to.

You cannot climb multiple mountains at once, but you can summit the same one over and over again. Every step. Every summit. Every descent is different.

My favorite hike of all time is up and down Lion’s Head. 34 times this year, trying to beat my personal best of 35 minutes from a year ago. Beating it on my 31st: 34:22:02. Then on the 32nd: 32:35:83.
Two days ago, I left my house, vowing to summit multiple peaks. Starting with Kloofneck corner, from the parking lot at the foot of Table Mountain. I go up and take the contour path, passing Platteklip Gorge. I continue up Devil’s Peak. Doubting my ability to meet my goal, feeling low in energy. Deflated?
Every step takes Herculean energy. I am at my slowest today. Can I make it up? Can I make it down?

Atop, I have a Fuji apple, and I feel energized. Going down is not hard, my feet skipping across rocks, joyful steps carry me down.

Do I walk down the road, and go up Platteklip Gorge? No. I retrace the countour before heading up Platteklip Gorge. This, too, feels impossible to walk up. I feel tired. I want to take a bath. Confidence comes from competence. And competence can only stem from consistency.

What separates professional from amateur? Consistency.

So I walk on. A couple passes, and I’m surprised to be passed. I am usually the one who does the passing. Atop, a mother struggles as her four children run up giggling. Through the crack, I emerge and sit in the middle of a rock to drink water. Not straying from the path to Cable Car. Conserving my energy so that I can get to my next challenge. On the way up another chain to the cable car, I grin at grey rocks. My preferred stomping grounds.

A group of black women shuffle into the cable car after me. “Can I stand with you?”, the lady asks as she wants to peer outside. There is another space for a toddler, not a woman with rounded edges. “Sure” I say, and pull myself inside, giving her the view which she records video with her phone. Isn’t it funny how people unapologetically lie to get what they want? And I wish I could do the same. To not just ask. But take up space. Take what I want.

Season pass holder, I have seen this view hundreds of times, and I shall be up again tomorrow. I have nothing to lose.
I stop by the Vida Café to get a Chicken Wrap. “Do you want us to warm it up for you?”

“Yes please.” Pleasantly surprised, I find a seat on one of the wooden chairs, in front of a round table. A couple behind me is finishing their drinks.
Basking in the sun, putting on my windbreaker. Body vaporizes the wrap, and I am surprised at the speed of my consumption.

“Ma’am, was the wrap good?” The nice employees yell out at me.
“Yes, excellent. Thanks.”
They are pleased with my satisfaction.

I am surprised and recognize my privilege. Of being different. Standing out.

I get in the car to drive to Lion’s Head. I expect to be tired and slow. But no. I was wrong. This happens a lot, and I like it. Because it means I am pushing past my comfort zones and learning more about my limitations.

Getting up in less than 36 minutes. Surprised with myself. Familiar wtih these trails, it feels effortless. Unlike Devil’s Peak. Unlike Platteklip Gorge. Walking up Lion’s Head feels effortless. Because this is the path my body knows well. No, not every step and path. But familiarity invites confidence.

And so, I can say what I couldn’t imagine few years ago. Devil’s Peak. Platteklip Gorge. Lion’s Head. All in one day, within seven hours of movement.

It was never my intention to become a fit hiker. But the fact that I have been doing this every other day no matter what the weather does or how I feel means I have not stopped moving. Continuing up and down no matter what. And because of this consistency, I couldn’t help but get fitter. Developing slower resting heart rate. I am at my fittest and I am getting older. Feeling the urge to run 5km after hiking. Feeding off of endorphins that makes me laugh out loud. Colors of my activity board becoming more black in the forest of Lion’s Head and Table Mountain hikes.

Repetition with intention is what matters. I find myself seeking steeper hills. Jagged edges of terrains. I am surprised to face this new human staring back at me. Stronger yet soft. Disappointed but not discouraged. Signining up for another 5KM. Platteklip Gorge challenge. Thinking I could do the Batman run next year in the pitch black. To feel the joy from pushing boundaries and achieving the impossible. One step at a time. No big movements required. No big packs.

World happens outside of our bedrooms. Outside of living rooms. In the open, where people stink. People swear. People play music out loud. Invading my personal space and attacking my senses. But I have learned to lean into the world. Teaching myself. It is not dangerous. It’s just uncomfortable.

Because what is world without chaos and feeling out of control? Because there is no control. There is no plan.

Dear readers who have left generous comments, thank you. Your words mean the world to me. I am not sure how you found this blog, in this world wide web of content. Thank you for coming and staying to read a bit.

I have been working on a 100 days of love letters on another domain. emptybeginnings.com

Going back to the love letter challenge, I came across few comments that felt like tail wind to the airplane carrying a big load, not sure if it was going to make it to its desired destination. It’s been 18 months since I’ve come back to plunge into this life of my previous creation.

It’s nice to be back, an easier interface. Did I create this? A great reminder. Breadcrumbs into my previous version. A little better, I hope and more than a lot changed and healed.

Because I am now ready to leave the healing behind. Building a different home full of love and nourishment, a garden to let the world in. To drink and eat from, together in harmony.