Today was destined to be a bad day. Waking up from a dream where I’ve stormed off from a stupid argument with one of my best friends and then end up caring for a sick child who’s lost her mother. Stuck in roadworks and then realising I’m in the red on the fuel gauge, so stopping for petrol makes me late for work, which then drags like the slowest lamest donkey plodding across a scorching hot desert. Except it’s not hot at work, it’s freezing cold because the air con is on full blast despite the fact that the office temperature is fine without. It’s July and yet it’s pleasant outside, when it’s not raining like a monsoon of course. We had a brief break from monotony when a thunderstorm was right on top of us at about half twelve, the windows shook and all the computers and lights went off momentarily, and then it was back to the trudge of the afore-mentioned mule.
The killer is I’m just biding my time here. I’m handing in my notice in a couple of weeks, and I am counting down the days!! It seems to make the days go slower, the afternoons are definitely longer. I’ve started deleting files and wrapping things up already, but without telling anyone of course – trying to make myself feel like I’m really heading towards that glorious day when I leave the office for the last time.
The best thing today was when my phone miraculously hag signal for 30secs this afternoon and a text from my best friend came through. All it included was the lyrics from a Kelly Clarkson song: “You got a piece of me, and honestly, MY LIFE. WOULD SUCK. WITHOUT YOU!!! I laughed out loud as I was immediately taken back to a sunny Sunday morning at the beginning of May when four of us were driving through the countryside, heading back home after a brilliant night out for a friend’s birthday the evening before. The song came on the radio and we were all singing along until Milly and I caught each others eye and starting singing the lyrics to each other in a ‘jokey but actually full of truth’ moment. We were laughing uncontrollably for a while as the others in the front wondered what the hell had got into us.
It’s moments like this that puncture the everyday boredom to lift your spirit and make everything seem that bit more bearable. In the grand scheme of things of course my bad day is nothing, it’s just a long line of irritations that don’t really matter. But if these little negatives can make the good moments seem that much more precious, then they are precious in their own way too.
I find myself thinking about memories and how powerful they are. The warm fuzzy feeling I still have from that lovely silly text which transported me back to such a happy moment. The new perfume I tried out yesterday that sent shivers through me with an old, familiar scent, though I still can’t place it. I’m not a rose-tinted glasses kind of girl, I like to remember things exactly how they were and I always include the bad with the good in my scrapbook style photo albums – how else can we learn and grow? But there are certain memories which will always touch my soul. Moments that were so full of joy and laughter and love and excitement that they almost become bittersweet because they cannot be revisited, only recalled.
Friday 24 July 2009
Sunday 5 July 2009
I Was Very Childish Today
I find myself being more defiant and righteous these days than ever before. Today I was in a well-known high street book store looking in the section on religion for a book a friend had recommended to me. On the top shelf stood a book with the title 'God is NOT great', and I immediately felt a surge of anger and indignation, similar to how I feel when protecting a friend from slander or injustice of some kind. And that's exactly how it is, thinking about it now - my God, my friend, being rebuked and slandered (if it's not a word, I'm making it one) made me see red. My exact thought was 'Isn't there enough negativity in the world?! Don't we have enough to battle without this anti-religion diatribe?!' I considered buying the book and tearing it up, or having a mini bonfire with it, but I have firm beliefs on the sanctity of the written word, so I did something very childish. I took down the book, browsed the back page and put it back on the shelf with the spine the wrong way so the title could not be read. Silly I know, and not doing any good in the long run, but my small anarchic act made me feel better for five minutes anyhow.
On my return from SA recently I was having a conversation with a friend about the Grabouw settlements and what it was like to walk through them and meet the people who live there. I described how local witch doctors record curses on cassette tape and then place the tape around certain houses or through the settlements to put these curses on others. We were asked to destroy this tape in God's name where we found it, if we felt comfortable to do so. I kept an eagle eye out and felt righteous anger each time I destroyed the tape I found, even more so when T suddenly got a terrible headache, which I have no doubt was spiritually brought on.
My friend asked me what right we had to destroy the tape, and interupt with our religious beliefs the beliefs and customs of others. At the time I think I made good arguments, although I didnt manage to convince my friend that we had done the right thing (though I doubt that would ever be possible, but that's another story). I wish I had found the right words to explain, and it has bothered me since then. I should've said: Why shouldn't we defend ourselves against people trying to hurt us? If I or someone I was trying to help was attacked with a physical weapon, people would think I was crazy if I didnt try to defend myself.
I have realised my friend could not take this view automatically, as to him the curses are not real, he does not believe in God or any other spiritual beings, and so sees these matters from a detached perspective, where I was damaging someone elses property, not protecting myself from harm against evil thoughts and energies.
Nevertheless I rejoice in each tiny positive step in my Father's name, (even if really it was only to make me feel better). I am not a natural evangelist but I am open and honest about my faith, and welcome discussions and questions from my friends. I honestly don't know how others survive without the comfort and strength that I find in my relationship with God. In the past I have found it hard to understand how we are supposed to love God above all others, when I have so much love for those around me, until recently when I really opened up to my faith and realised I am now willing to follow God's plan for me, even if it means disappointing those I care for, or drawing away from them. My sister put it beautifully when she said "When you lose loved ones, you grieve but you find a way, you find the strength to carry on. If you lost God, you would be absolutely lost, and life would lose all meaning".
On my return from SA recently I was having a conversation with a friend about the Grabouw settlements and what it was like to walk through them and meet the people who live there. I described how local witch doctors record curses on cassette tape and then place the tape around certain houses or through the settlements to put these curses on others. We were asked to destroy this tape in God's name where we found it, if we felt comfortable to do so. I kept an eagle eye out and felt righteous anger each time I destroyed the tape I found, even more so when T suddenly got a terrible headache, which I have no doubt was spiritually brought on.
My friend asked me what right we had to destroy the tape, and interupt with our religious beliefs the beliefs and customs of others. At the time I think I made good arguments, although I didnt manage to convince my friend that we had done the right thing (though I doubt that would ever be possible, but that's another story). I wish I had found the right words to explain, and it has bothered me since then. I should've said: Why shouldn't we defend ourselves against people trying to hurt us? If I or someone I was trying to help was attacked with a physical weapon, people would think I was crazy if I didnt try to defend myself.
I have realised my friend could not take this view automatically, as to him the curses are not real, he does not believe in God or any other spiritual beings, and so sees these matters from a detached perspective, where I was damaging someone elses property, not protecting myself from harm against evil thoughts and energies.
Nevertheless I rejoice in each tiny positive step in my Father's name, (even if really it was only to make me feel better). I am not a natural evangelist but I am open and honest about my faith, and welcome discussions and questions from my friends. I honestly don't know how others survive without the comfort and strength that I find in my relationship with God. In the past I have found it hard to understand how we are supposed to love God above all others, when I have so much love for those around me, until recently when I really opened up to my faith and realised I am now willing to follow God's plan for me, even if it means disappointing those I care for, or drawing away from them. My sister put it beautifully when she said "When you lose loved ones, you grieve but you find a way, you find the strength to carry on. If you lost God, you would be absolutely lost, and life would lose all meaning".
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