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…