Month: April 2026

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 mintues 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.