Beautiful Lyrics - Coldplay's "Til Kingdom Come"

Til Kingdom Come

One... two...
Steal my heart... and hold my tongue
I feel my time... my time has come
Let me in... unlock the door
I never felt this way before

And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummer begins to drum
I don't know which way I'm going
I don't know which way I've come

Hold my head... inside your hands
I need someone... who understands
I need someone... someone who hears
For you I've waited all these years

For you I'd wait... 'Til Kingdom Come
Until my day... my day is done
and say you'll come... and set me free
just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me

In your tears... and in your blood
In your fire... and in your flood
I hear you laugh... I heard you sing
I wouldn't change a single thing

And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummers begin to drum
I don't know which way I'm going
I don't know what I've become

For you I'd wait... 'Til kingdom come
Until my days... my days are done
Say you'll come... and set me free
Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me

Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me
Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me

Awareness...

I wrote this a little over a year ago... but it's still oh so true...

"On Saturday I attended Caroline’s 5 week meditation course. After we finished she asked us to try and be more “aware” this week. Aware of our surroundings and what we are doing. Of course I left with the best intentions to try and work on my awareness, but yet again the week’s rush got the better of me and I’ve been walking around “blind-folded” trying to get things done.

This morning however I woke up with the same happiness I felt every morning since returning from the workshop. I got ready for work, put my CD in my CD player and jetted off deciding to pay more attention to my surroundings on my way to work. I started looking at the grey’ish sky (my favourite kind of weather by the way), the birds flying above, the dog trying to cross the road (don’t worry he made it) and the new rose garden on the corner of the street (well for me it was new – it’s probably been there for a while now). All so beautiful…

Suddenly my eye caught an elderly black woman walking up the hill. The bag she was carrying looked far too heavy for her slender build. She looked tired, as though she hadn’t slept enough the previous night and she had a world of worries on her shoulders. Immediately I thought – it rained last night. Maybe her house couldn’t sustain all the rain – maybe that’s why she’s so tired today. My heart went out to her. She was obviously on her way to cleaning somebody’s house. I wondered if her employer would also ask these questions. Whether there would be any empathy where she was heading. Was anybody else wondering what her story was and wishing they could help? But most importantly – did she still know there was a powerful woman inside her or was that long thought long gone?

She remained in my thoughts on the rest of my journey. I started to notice more and more people. Some were trying to beat the traffic and were changing lanes like crazy, jabbering all kinds of hysteria on their cell phones. Some were driving like they had their whole life to get to their end destination. Was it because they knew they had done what they had to do the previous day or were they afraid to face something at work? While seeing each face I had the same question – what is his/her story?

We are so busy in our lives that we forget stop to look around – to become aware… We are also too busy to realise that everybody has a story and therefore acts accordingly. So if you see a friend, colleague, family member or even stranger again, try and look a bit deeper. What is his/her story? Are they also tired? Does the load their carrying also seem to heavy to bare?"

Ek en my ramkietjie...

Ek sit hier by my lessenaar. Deesdae kry ek sulke diep gedagtes... So deur die dag... sonder rede. Dis nie noodwendig verkeerd nie. Ek dink ek is besig om myself beter te leer ken en te begin aanvaar dat ek miskien partykeer bietjie anders as ander mense dink. Miskien is dit ‘n blessing in disguise, maar ek dink dit is ook iets wat soos ‘n donker wolk oor jou kop somtyds hang.

Ek is mal oor musiek. Dit is seker een van die beste geskenke van God wat vir ons op aarde gegee is (behalwe nou natuurlik suurstof, kos en water). Ek luister al heeldag Leonard Cohen. Ek ken nie sy musiek nie, maar Ronel het my interest in hom gewek. Dis seker omdat sy ‘n anderste look in haar oe kry wanneer sy van hom praat. Amper iets soos wat jy kry as jy van ‘n ou verlore vriend of sielsgenoot praat. Ek het begin luister en dadelik besef dat hierdie man definitief ‘n tortured spirit is. Ten spyte van dit is hy ook baie gelukkig aangesien hy ‘n uitlegklep vir sy mismoedigheid gekry het – sy musiek.

Omdat ek ook begin agterkom het watter mense na sy musiek luister, besef ek ook dat hy ‘n redelike melancholiese gevolg het. Die meeste van hierdie mense deel in sy “tortured spirit” en sy musiek is vir hulle ook ‘n uitweg. Ek wonder of hy besef hoeveel mense moes hy al gered het van daai laaste dodelike aksie. Vir hierdie mense beeld sy musiek nie ‘n malkolk van depressie uit nie. Liewer ‘n wete dat hulle nie alleen is nie. Hulle gedagtes is nie absurd nie en hulle emosies is geldig – miskien selfs spesiaal. Ek hoop Leonard weet hoeveel sy woorde vir hierdie mense beteken. Soos wat ‘n kollega (ook ‘n manies depressiewe goth) vandag vir my gese het: “He makes you want to sit in the corner and chew your wrists – but in a good way”...

Ek, soos iemand al aptly beskryf het is ‘n musical whore. Ek kan nie pinpoint hoekom sekere tipe musiek regtigwaar my hartsnare roer nie. Lirieke en klanke het eenvoudig net vir my ‘n spesiale betekenis. Ek voel die musiek en ek kan op ‘n manier verstaan wat die sanger gevoel het terwyl hy daardie manjifieke komposisie aanmekaargeslaan het. Tog het ek tot ‘n ander besef gekom vanmiddag. Ek was nog altyd ‘n sucker vir die tranetrekkerige liedjies – daardie liedjies wat in die helfte van die beste deel afgesit word met die boodskap: “nee man, jy gaan ons almal laat huil”. Dis nog altyd vir my snaaks gewees – dit laat nie vir my huil nie, dit wek iets in my gees op. ‘n Onbeskryflike begeertenis na die goeie dinge in die lewe. Miskien selfs die warm verlange na ‘n onbekende vriend of sielsgenoot...

In ‘n wonderlike oomblik vandag het Rod Stewart se “I am sailing” vir my ‘n treetjie nader aan een van my sielsgenote gebring.

I am sailing

I am sailing

Home again, cross the sea

I am sailing stormy waters

To be near you, to be free

I am flying

I am flying

Like a bird, cross the sky

I am flying passing high clouds

To be with you, to be free

Can you hear me

Can you hear me

Through the dark night, far away

I am dying, forever crying

To be with you, who can say

Can you hear me

Can you hear me

Through the dark night, far away

I am dying, forever crying

To be with you, who can say

We are sailing

We are sailing

Home again, cross the sea

We are sailing, stormy waters

To be with you, to be free

OH Lord, to be near you

To be free

Oh Lord, to be near you

To be free

Oh Lord, to be near you

To be free

Oh Lord.

Powerful... Meer as powerful. Ek dink dit hang van die luistenaar af wat die woorde beteken en of dit enigsins betekenis het. Ek voel asof die lirieke vir my miskien ‘n glimpse kan gee aan my pa se laaste vreedsame oomblikke. I am dying, forever crying... To be with you, to be free. Miskien is dit net lirieke, miskien is dit geskryf in ‘n drunken stupor gevul met dagga walms. Miskien... Dit maak nie juis saak nie – die sanger kan dalk net ‘n instrument in ‘n bigger picture wees. En daardie bigger picture is vir almal toeganklik. Dis jou keuse of jy die leap wil vat.

Hot Chocolate...

A friend sent this to me this morning... I thought it was really nice...

> A group of graduates, well established in their careers, were talking
> at a reunion and decided to go visit their old university professor,
> now retired.
>
> During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress
> in their work and lives. Offering his guests hot chocolate, the
> professor went into the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot
> chocolate and an assortment of cups - porcelain, glass, crystal, some
> plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help
> themselves to the hot chocolate.
>
> When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the professor said,
> "Notice that all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving
> behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want
> only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and
> stress. The cup that you're drinking from adds nothing to the quality
> of the hot chocolate. In most cases it is just more expensive and in
> some cases even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was
> hot chocolate, not the cup; but you consciously went for the best
> cups...and then you began eyeing each other's cups."
>
> "Now consider this: Life is the hot chocolate; your job, money and
> position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and
> contain life. The cup you have does not define, nor change the quality
> of life you have.
> Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot
> chocolate. The happiest people don't have the best of everything. They
> just make the best of everything that they have."
>
> Live simply.
> Love generously.
> Care deeply.
> Speak kindly.
>
> And enjoy your hot chocolate!

Gracious blessings...

I celebrated my 29^th bday yesterday and had one of the best days of my life. The morning started off with two big bouquets delivered to my work, courtesy of my friends. Bare in mind that I have never received flowers at work / home before and I was completely caught off guard. Not even a tsunami could knock that silly grin off my face. I then had lunch with some very very very special friends of mine. They made me feel like a million bucks. Everytime I opened one of their gifts I could feel how much care was put into it and how special I must be to them. I was completely amazed…

I ended off my day with loads of drinks, wraps and gifts at my friend’s house (who coincidentally is one of my best friends and also shares my bday). By 11 I was SO TIRED but felt rejuvenated.

It’s very easy to forget that you do in some way touch people’s lives. Sometimes you just need a bunch of flower / lunch or mexican wrap to remind you a bit…J

Smacks of onion...

I am a delver… I like to know and understand things. I want to know how you are, what you feel and why you feel it. I can sense your anguish and laughter and feel happy to share your pain. With this sensitive nature a deep introspect of self evolves. Whether I want to know myself or not – that was never for me to decide… I need to know me… If I can sense other’s emotions so deeply, what would my body and mind do to get the same recognition?

I have therefore stopped fighting about getting to know myself. My inner self is trying to explain something to me and I have no choice. So after 27 years of ignoring my inner voice, she got hers back and I have been spending more than a year trying to put her at ease. What have I learnt so far?

Well… Think of a big red onion. A bit sweeter than the white one, and a lot of layers to boot. With a little effort you take the skin off … shoo, not such a big problem and your eyes aren’t even tearing up yet. The skin is now off but you are left with a surprise – the next layer is also covered with a skin. This one is a bit messier and you wonder if you will get it off with your bare hands. You might need some help with this. You are now sweating and the onion is tearing you up. Shoo, finally the skin is off.

Ugh, another surprise – you can’t use the next layer, it’s covered in grime and has spoilt. You’ll have to peel this one off as well. You are getting a bit tired now and decide to ask a friend to help. If she could hold the one side of the onion you could peel it easier. But this layer is stubborn and your friend is getting a bit tired as well. Her eyes are now really tearing up – you feel a bit bad for her. You invited everybody for dinner – it’s your job to be a good host. You tell her it’s okay you’ll pick another onion. She agrees reluctantly. You are happy about this, because her hands might smell of onion for a day or two but then it will be gone.

You on the other hand have been working with the onion way to long. You wash your hands… the smell is still there. It’s okay, you’ll leave it for a day or two – it’s bound to go away. You’re wrong… You forget about the onion smell during the day, but as soon as your hands come close to your face you are reminded of that stupid onion and you feel like screaming.

You get home, poor yourself a glass of wine and take the onion out of the rubbish bin. You stare it down and whisper…

FUCK YOU… round two…

I am, I said

Why is it that we can’t always just except who and what we are? Don’t get me wrong, some people should never just except who they are – their focus should be to change everything about themselves – point in case Adolf Hitler; Charles Manson. No, I’m talking about us – the wonderful people who roam this earth. There is always something we worry about, think about, try and change … If we don’t have something to work on, change or stress about we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves.

In the beginning of 2007 you were going to change all that and goals were set: I need to lose this much weight. I need to finish this much work. I need to stop letting people walk all over me. I need to express my emotions more. 2007 flew by and you reflected back in 2008: I did not lose any weight, I gained a few kilo’s. I have double as much work to do this year. I have agreed to a friend’s request again, because I can’t say no. I feel a bit misguided but don’t know how to express it.

I am a prime example of setting high expectations for myself, only to feel like a failure round about February every year. The more I struggle, the more I analyse the problem and the more confused I get. Why is this so important to me? Would I be childishly happy once I reach these goals or would I just move onto another issue? Would I find something else to punish myself about by February 2009?

SO many problems – too much this, too much that – not enough of this, not enough of that.

But then suddenly the chaos in your mind is interrupted by the telephone. It’s your dear friend, her husband is very sick and the doctors don’t know what’s going on. You can hear the panic in her voice. She’s tired and needs some love and affection. You are sitting at your desk, working, trying to put the stupid structure in place and all you want to do is race and be by her side. Suddenly the whole work thing doesn’t seem so important.

You walk across the road to get something healthy to eat. Healthy because you are a failure and have to lose weight. You pass a young woman and her toddler. They have nothing. No home, no food. The child’s eyes follow you as you walk into the deli and you are ashamed. You pick up the water and pay your R12. The price for being shallow is starting to seem a bit steep. You buy a coke and give it to the little girl. Suddenly that coke doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

You spend the rest of the day feeling content about your life. You are healthy, have plenty to eat and drink and have a roof over your head. You look at the people around you and smile – they don’t know how lucky they are… You have to marinate in this moment, because you know it’s like a drug and tomorrow things will go back to normal. But for today your cup runneth over…

Agteros kom ook in die kraal...

Finally, I have arrived… well in the blogging world that is. So many of my friends have urged me to do so, but for some reason I never really made an effort. I think something inside told me that it might be an invasion of my privacy. Oi vey! That certainly isn’t a valid excuse…

So here I go – please feel free to invade my “privacy” and “tell it like it is” (sorry Dr Phil!) … I hope I can render some pearls of wisdom or maybe just a bowl of laughs every now and again!

Chat soon…