Guy Penrod - Count Your Blessings (Live) Gaither Music TV.
With tears of joy
“I cried because I
had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” Helen Keller
There are variations
of the quote above attributed to others in sermons, books, or articles,
however, Helen Keller was profound in the fact that she was both blind and deaf
from the age of 19 months old.
What is significant
about this saying is having a great sense of gratitude regardless of your
circumstances, because there is almost definitely someone quite worse off than
you are.
Sometimes, I just
watch one of those talent shows to see surprising performances from amazing and
extraordinary people who have overcome serious adversity to showcase their
talent before what eventually is a global audience. The times I have cried for
joy on their behalf are innumerable as you reflect on the goodness
of life you enjoy.
Join with the blessed
Learning not to be pitiful,
but exceedingly thankful is a state of mind; maybe even the grace of being able
to put things in perspective. Giving not too much weight to what is going wrong
when you can lift your spirits with what is going right.
Knowing how to count
your blessings, great and small, naming them one by one like the old hymn says,
can make all the difference to how your day is going.
I take much encouragement
from the beauty and support that surrounds me, Brian, who is ever loving and
unstintingly filling my ears with loveliness, friends who have my back through
thick and thin, God, my rock, my shield, my shelter, my comfort, and my strength.
[Hymnary.org
Count Your Blessings]
When the going gets
tough, and the outlook seems rough, you feel you have had enough. “Do
not be discouraged, God is over all; Count your many blessings, angels will
attend, Help and comfort give you to your journey's end.”
The other day, I wrote about being
sad, the sadness about many things as each aspect of adversity seemed to pronounce
a lien on my sense of wellbeing. Much as I have struggled with things, I have
pressed forward, not with the speed I wanted nor with the progress I expected,
but I have kept looking for ways to encourage myself and refuse to allow the
negative to take too much space in my space.
I had forgotten how to laugh, a strengthening
power of joy had left me morose and concerned, preoccupied with many things and
oblivious to the good, the beautiful, the wonderful, and the blessings that
greet every waking day. Even if I deny it, some self-pity was creeping up on my
patch, and I needed to get it off my lawn.
Bring back the joy
And Nehemiah continued, “Go and
celebrate with a feast of rich foods and sweet drinks, and share gifts of food
with people who have nothing prepared. This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don’t
be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength! [Nehemiah
8:10 (NLT)]
The part of the joy of the Lord being
my strength was registering in my thoughts for a while, but I was unsure of
what I needed to do to begin to enjoy the benefits of this medicine of laughter
with the healing qualities it presents.
Laughter for the pain
I have written about this many times
before, when my Fentanyl
patch fell off one Sunday probably when I was at church, the pain of cancer searingly
deep came in waves almost too unbearable that as I got home still unaware of
why the pain was there and then I began to laugh, not cry, but laugh as I realised
how the laughter helped release endorphins that held the pain at bay until the
newly affixed patch took hold.
Another experience of laughter was a
few years ago when I met a pastor in a park, and we began to chat. He said some
incredulous and interesting things to me and about me, much of which not only
surprised me but were also as unbelievable to be considered impossible. I
chuckled and even laughed just as Sarah in the bible did when she was told at
the age of 90 that she would have a child.
Laughter for the winning
Laughter sometimes is an expression of
unrestrained vulnerability that can leave in contortions of near embarrassment
which when shared with others is a different kind of geniality, communication,
and camaraderie. We do need more laughter in our lives as expressions of
happiness and more so, joy, a kind of feeling of wellness that overwhelms gloom
and presents a new kind of perspective on things.
I know it would do me good, it would
heal a lot of pain, it will drown away sorrows and uproot the foothold of
sadness, it would lift my countenance and I hold my head up high and in it will
come the strength to know that the seasons are changing for a bountiful harvest
where the windows of heaven are open for the pouring out of blessing. Delirium,
you make think, let’s laugh adversity out of our lives.
Watching a sermon preached by Reverend
Richard Roberts he shared his testimony of one day owing no one and the next
when he took over the reins of Oral Roberts
University, they were $60m in debt and at risk of closing, how the joy of
the Lord changed everything and everything changed.
The Joy Of The Lord // Rev. Richard Roberts // May 22, 2019 // Jay Eberly Ministries
I had this amazing
feeling when I revealed a surprise to make someone happy, it made me so happy
that the whole idea of the pursuit of happiness is not just about you finding
happiness, but in bringing the joy of happiness to another, you multiply it as
you both glow.
There is the smile
that speaks of fun and endearment, almost to the point that we begin to wipe
the tears in our eyes, moments filled with glee and laughter, telling you that the
world we seek cannot falter.
Love indeed is the answer
and that someone makes the warmth shine on my planet, we will build a universe
together and traverse galaxies of adventure to mystery and exhilaration. I made
that someone happy and he makes me happy too.
I get caught in my
thoughts about things I wish and hope for, the dreamy world of thrills and
happiness envelops my thinking looking forward to something special and the
stuff of wonder, miracles, fortune, and goodness that is love.
I have been consumed
by this feeling like no other, even the memory of many loves past all put together
does not attain my exhilaration at this, for they all add up to my understanding of what I know and believe I want and need.
The love and
companionship that has lit up my world is amazing, and for all my skill with
words, I am lost for the ability to express myself as well as I would want to.
I know I am in love, and I am loved beyond measure, unconditionally, and so
completely. I find myself wondering if I am deserving of all this, then I just
go with the flow and feel the glow.
Thank you, Brian, for
making all matter, making it make sense, and stealing my heart away to the
place where it is nurtured, refreshed, rejuvenated and strengthened. You send
me, darling you do, to places where dreams are dreams of realities too few
would ever get to live. I’m in clover.
I found myself
running ragged not around the house but in my head, a song tailed off in my
head, not one I have heard in a while, but it reminded me of a very happy
place. I think of smells, conditions and music that take me to a happy sense of
warmth and ease.
It was a song by Prince, so I thought
I would play it back from my music cache in the cloud, I could not understand
how I could not find the artist or any album. How could it not be in my collection?
That is how my head got racing, quite perturbed, it had to be somewhere, on a
disk or USB key, but I was not ready to start a search for that.
Alright, on another
day
I do remember years
ago, I used to play the music back on my mobile phone, but this was my third or
fourth phone since then. Surely, I must have transferred the music files too. As luck
would have it, it was on my current phone.
Next, get the files
to the cloud. Not that easy, the file management on my phone does not offer raw
access to the data. I plug it into my laptop, the music shows up in Windows
Media Player, but the album information tag is lost. Not tonight.
We’ll just let it
play off the mobile phone speaker even though it does not offer the best sound.
Another day to fight that battle of merging all my music in one place.
Meanwhile, I have merged the prolific output of the 3 albums of Emancipation
in a playlist of the same name in shuffle mode and my dreamy self goes back to
Christmas 1996.
The happy place,
again
It was a Christmas
present from my then partner’s parents. I could say I love every song on the
albums, but some just stand out in musicianship and lyrical prowess. Nothing
like the screeching falsetto of my classmate in secondary who should have been
unheard singing, Ain’t got no money.
The best compendium
of Prince music is PrinceVault and
everything you need to know about Emancipation is there. [PrinceVault:
Emancipation]. My favourite remains the mystical and spiritual The Holy
River. I could meditate on the lyrics, the music, the story on constant replay.
The thought of being drowned in a holy river to be delivered to a new life is a
rebirth I love. Music is definitely the portal to my happy garden.
Early today, I
thought about the past week, all that I wrote on falling in love. I would not
know if anyone noticed a characteristic of the blog titles. When I started, I
was not sure I would find enough inspiration to complete the task.
As it happened, I did
get the words to carry the context of the blogs into the titles using BRIAN as an
acronym. Words beginning with N to fit the context are not easy to come by, it
is a good thing, this brainwave did not come to be as a countdown of 30 days to
his birthday or worse, a count up to his youthful age.
We relive and believe
However, as we share
messages in the morning and find time for one or more video calls later in the
day until bedtime. We get to talk about many things and that is how I was
proposed to on Saturday night. Everything on our minds now points to the next
opportunity to meet up in Cape Town where indeed we would get married and begin
charting the course of our new life together.
It goes without
saying, that our memories are tinged with the moments we had together and the
expectation of even better times ahead. It is exactly 6 months ago that we parted company in Johannesburg. Our thoughts are almost overwhelmed
with feeling, but we must temper our anxiety with patience and constant
reassurance. We are a beautiful work in progress and if no one can see the
love, the smiles, the good, the story, well. I hope they can be happy for
themselves if they cannot be happy for others.
We bear no ill; we are
living our own lives and hope others can get to live freely in the beauty of
their dreams coming true. So there.
Every once in a
while I give my eyes the routine maintenance of giving the tear ducts a flush.
There is no switch to set off the channels that bring water to my eyes.
By a deliberate act,
I might chop onions and that is hardly a task I enjoy, for years, I used a
mandolin and then I found Spar does diced onions, I guess the efficient rather the lazy part of me decided I had hit the gold dust of cooking ingredients. Most of
the time, the onions go into the cooking pot rather than the frying pan, I store the diced onions in the
freezer and when needed, crack the bag on a shelf and pour in what I need.
Sowing kindness
I started the evening
with a Facebook post that talked of a hungry boy who asked for a glass of water
and was given a glass of milk. He had only a dime and asked what he could pay
for the glass of milk, the lady answered that her mother told never to take
money for an act of kindness. The boy thankfully blessed her from his heart.
Decades down the line,
the lady fell seriously ill and was transferred to a city hospital where a
consultant was engaged to monitor and treat her condition. He saw where she
came from and on checking on her, realised she was the lady who gave him a
glass of milk, many years before. He dedicated himself to her wellbeing and
care until she was well. Her hospital bill came to over $28,000 which she did
not have.
The consultant had
intercepted the bill and added a note before having the bill presented to the
lady. She read the bill and then the note, all it said was, “Paid for with a
glass of milk.” The tears welled up in my eyes, how kindness gets repaid, you
can never know.
Stories that move the
heart
The annual charade of
the BBC Children In
Need is on again, this charity has raised over £1 billion pounds since 1980
for disadvantaged children and young people in the UK. Gosh! I miss Sir Terry Wogan, but I
switched to the channel and it was being presented tonight by Ade Adepitan and Tess Daly.
There are so many
stories of kindness, hope over adversity and the overcoming of infirmity, human
strength and resilience coming from young kids who have faced cancer,
life-changing injuries and all sorts of crises, yet, none have a sense defeat but
are living examples of grace, love and fortitude.
Each story told is a miracle of our humanity, those who suffer and those who succour bound together
in the refrain of that song, “He ain’t
heavy, he’s my brother.”
I have been blessed by
kindness
In my life, I
remember the many who have come into my life in times of need, of great
adversity and difficulty, friends and strangers alike who found the common
cause of human kindness and unconditional love whose acts towards me have been to
carry me, unconcerned about the burden, to the questions that might have
crossed their minds, they have answered back, “He
ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.”
What a blessing it
has been for me to have means and opportunity, not necessarily to repay the kindness
directly, but to others. To each and many, I hope I never have to faint, but be
girded with much more strength to say, “They ain’t heavy, they’re my brothers,
my sisters, my fathers, my mothers, my aunts, my uncles, my nephews, my nieces,
my relations, my friends, my neighbours, my community, my people, my humanity
and whatever diversity and inclusivity I am blessed to be part of.”
My tears on the soft shoulder
of love
I have shed many a
tear watching acts of kindness, things that bring happiness and joy to others, to
ease the pain, pacify the perturbed, demonstrate the amazing and incredible,
the whole celebration of humankind. For the kindnesses I have received too, my
tear ducts have opened like sluice gates and I am not afraid to cry, it can be
a wonderful release and expression of our humanity.
Maybe I have found 15
seconds on the soft shoulder, I know one shoulder on which I could cry for as
long as I want, he is the one I love, and we hope to soon be together again.
Courtesy of the William Kentridge exhibition at Zeitz MOCAA, Cape Town.
I have learnt to cherish the moments, the moments I have been given, by grace, by fortitude, by opportunity, by circumstance or by fate. I reflect on some of the hard times in my life, in sickness or in literal penury and wonder at the upbringing and influences that have shaped the ability and face them and know that it is life, people live it and it would pass.
It informs my philosophy that we are people of stories, tales of the expected and unexpected woven into a tapestry of relatable things, people and places. Not fairy tales, but if any of the stories does develop that trajectory, I will not quibble.
In all, I never thought why this is happening to me until now, I simply thought, it is my life, it is my story and I hope it ends on a good note. I would speak to myself and comfort myself saying, ‘Akin, you’ll be fine.’
Catching the boat that left me behind
The Akin of my conscience is a very English pronunciation even when I upbraid myself for being foolish. It is a voice I can hear quite clearly in my wakefulness and sleep. I am always grateful for it is with me, journeying through life, witnessing things I would never have thought possible, as my life is been a litany of the impossible becoming living reality for me to experience and narrate.
On the why; it is has been, why am I who has better been an observer and cheerleader who has begun to have a personal story like those I have celebrated as some of the wonders and mysteries of life? Love was like a boat that had already sailed, leaving me at the port, I didn’t even bother waving frantically to alert anyone that I had been left behind. I stood at the port happy for those onboard and waving happy goodbyes to those embarking on a journey of discovery and adventure.
Out of nowhere, a yacht appeared, a skipper beckoned me on board and insisted I should be on that boat, I have a cabin and it would be in the company of the man of my dreams. I thought I was dreaming until the water splashed in my face and then the boat laid out a welcoming ceremony as I boarded and was prepared to feast at the captain’s table with my companion. My feet almost gave under me, when the stunner took my arm.
This is me
I have written much about the pursuit of happiness, not necessarily as a goal, but as one that in the course of living is part of what brings quality to life. This episode of life might be difficult for some to appreciate or understand, yet, some inclinations are borne of nature, how you deal with it might well be one of nurture or discovery.
I am not here to make excuses for who I am and what I know I have been from probably at the age of seven, I did not understand it, I many times tried to suppress it, it was long before I began to appreciate the need to embrace it, and with embracing it, I blossom in many aspects of life that would have suffered if I acted otherwise.
At this time, I have found that to live one’s truth is one of the greatest achievements of loving oneself, for which some may decide not to love or like you anymore. I guess it can be difficult to extricate oneself from the need to please others and by that live what they expect of you rather than you live your own individually unique and sometimes different life not aping the so-called norms.
Celebrating love
I am not ashamed of who I am, I am happy with who I am, I fell in love with someone, that someone happens to be a man, we feel the same about each other and hope to spend the rest of our lives together. I cannot apologise for what nature made me, I would make the best of it and celebrate my life in the truth of what I have found.
I was in South Africa for 9 days and we had a wonderful time, the memories are captured below.
Just a week ago, after bidding Brian farewell to his abode in Bulawayo, I was also preparing to board my flight back from Johannesburg. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzAO5snTMk/
Another day had us out to the Walter Sisulu National Botanical Gardens somewhere so far that the Uber driver might well have hit a jackpot. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzEFxFHyst/
We were promised mountain views of Pretoria, Johannesburg and an amazing dam if we went up Magaliesberg Mountain by the cable car at Hartbeespoort. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzR-GtHSzH/
Yes, we could even see Botswana from Magaliesberg Mountain, but the more interesting point is about the demonyms of Botswana. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzUAAJH_mI/
On our last full day out, we were in Pretoria where we met up with Brian's niece, he has fathered his nieces into adulthood when his sister passed on. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzXCqXnIBT/
I guess at this point I was both tired and bored, I had seen every kind of creature on God's own earth, imagined and real. https://www.instagram.com/p/BuzYR4lnewk/
The thought started with, ‘Like you used to do’, the sad reality of loves that I once had and have lost for reasons I have not fully understood. I reflect and wonder at what could have been, yet we never really got to explore that unity of mind, of soul and of life.
The moments are collected as memories, each reminder a cut to the heart as the search of real and true love continues in a resignation to fate rather than a determined yearning for it, even though the latter is a deeper feeling than the former.
My life appears to be crowded out with exes, lovers who became dear friends, lovers who passed on, lovers who became fleeting acquaintances, lovers, long forgotten with the pain that they brought and the baggage they refused to shed.
I’m ready, you’re not
However, what is most striking is what I was ready to invest and what they were not ready to put much faith in. It is no doubt that I bring a challenge to certain lives and with that optimism that upsets the sedentary with new possibility. Elements of my personality, though introvert can provoke either the positive or the negative.
Reactions to it also can inspire or tire me out as the balance and stability I seek is in finding refuge in person, place and situations. Arms to embrace, shoulders to lean and the absence of inhibition to be free with each other.
Writing about this does not make it easier, for I have been blessed with means and ability well beyond those of partners that there was rarely any thought given to sharing of that abundance in everyday life, the pursuit of happiness and the pleasure to be derived from it. Just like you do.
Damn, I was into you
I have had those fears before, that where you could have taken then leap but hesitated, vacillated and procrastinated until time and tide took away all the options and left you with regret. Anticipation is also another thing on the part of both partners, I have plans and I have dreams, they can neither be executed nor fulfilled in an instant.
There is a process of growing and knowing, flowing and glowing, sowing and owing to the point where the stars are aligned and destiny takes the wheel.
For all that the heart wants to do, the head must review and assess, lest, in the end, we become as fools. For the few, I really could say, ‘Damn I was into you’, I can only wonder when did it go astray.
Passing through Amsterdam Schiphol Airport a few weeks ago, I had a few hours to spare. Whilst Grindr will not offer opportunity, it still remains fascinating as people publish their presence in search of liaison and probably more.
One glance at proximity talent revealed a young man I had known and met a long time ago. At the age of 23, he was diagnosed HIV positive and we just happened to be chatting online when he revealed he was fed up with life, he was suicidal, unsure of what to do and apparently had no discernible career path.
My disposition has been never to run out of hope, regardless of the circumstances one is in. Times that I have comforted myself with the thoughts and spoken words that the storms will pass, the calm will come and the sun will shine again.
Giving life another chance
It was just about the time that I embarked on a post-graduate course, I was doing new things rather than considering my situation terminal. As we talked, I began to put ideas in his head about possibilities and opportunities. More so, I stressed the fact that an HIV diagnosis was an opportunity to give life another chance rather than end it.
What I said might have been a seed of hope, I do not know. A year after he was working as a shop attendant at the airport, a number of times, I passed through the airport and I always sought him out to say hello.
Living the life of happiness
In other forums, I found he fell in love, then got married, went on holidays and soon, I left the Netherlands. For almost 8 years, I did not encounter him anywhere. The few times I had passed through Amsterdam, especially with the reconfiguration of the airport, I thought he had moved on to other things.
So, my surprise to see him on Grindr at the airport that I sent him a message that I was in the lounge and asked if he would want to meet up. He responded and said he would come round to my side of the airport.
For the telling of better stories
Our very first conversation was 14 years ago. He looked happy, healthy, thriving and satisfied with his job where he had been promoted with additional responsibilities. He was still married too and he said he could not be happier as he hinted at the original conversation we had.
I defaulted to the refrain, that we are all stories, that we may get times to tell better stories of ourselves, the things we had been through and how they have become part of a distant past.
More pertinently, having given life another chance, or was is life that gave us another chance to revise our stories for a better narrative? We are full of gratitude and we cannot deny that singular fact, above all else. For now, we are still here and we are thankful for that.
These are the first two lines of the lyrics of The Holy River that I probably heard so many times before when I received Emancipation, the 3-CD compendium of prolific songsmith genius by Prince.
Looking beyond ourselves
This is where many of us find ourselves, the need to go to a place where we can lose ourselves in the awesomeness of something so beyond ourselves that we are born anew. To imagine and believe that the in drowning there is a beginning of deliverance rather than the termination of death is to have faith in wonder that defies explanation.
It is without a doubt that when I look over events in my own life, I have stories of visits to the holy river where I dared to drown, to lose myself to the danger of the loss of life only to emerge delivered from a fate that once seemed ready to overwhelm me.
In times of untimely birth, or when I was within inches of becoming roadkill completely oblivious of the vehicle passing in front of me at full throttle on an expressway, and a life-threatening cancer diagnosis just a day under 8 years ago, I became a pilgrim to the holy river.
Escape self-deception
U can try and try but there's nothin' 2 hide U can't run from yourself and what's inside U got 2 find the answers 2 the questions that U most fear
So over and over U ask your soul Why'd U come down 2 a world so cold? And the voice inside says 2night the truth will be told
I will make no grammatical corrections of these lyrics by Prince because he writes his songs in this manner and that is the way things are. And so here I am with myself and the realities that so scare the wits out of me, yet in the darkness that attempts to engulf me, I strive and strain to see some light, a light the lights of the path to redemption.
The grace that has been granted me to live through things I could never on my own strength endure is unquantifiable and in such abundance, that as I appear to faint, I am revived. The day my sleep deserted me for the troubles of lack of supply in money, options and excuses necessary to liberate me from the quagmire and pressures of all corners I could face almost sapped me of all resolve.
Give despair no place
Worry solves nothing nor does it offer any ideas for the better, that truth became a revelation once again, even as the issues weighed heavily on my mind that it was almost a supernatural feat to avoid being distracted from the focus I needed to have on the assignment I had to hand.
U surrounded yourself with all the wrong faces Spending your time in all the wrong places Puttin' your faith in things that only make U cry People say they love U when they wanna help But how can they when U can't help yourself? The more they say they love U, the more U just wanna die So here we go again, the self analysis Have another glass of Port and uh.. forget this The band's playin' at the club 2night and they're bound 2 groove
At which point you are on the verge of lamenting that you are a lost cause, the cause and course you chose looking like the ignorant and unschooled you have become. The question rings out in self-flagellation, what have I done with my life. Bad choices, lost opportunities, rotten decisions, irrational angst and stupid advice all computing a result about to print out a 7-letter word that is the antonym of success.
Find your holy river in which to drown
It is enough to turn to drink and seek the solace or succour of escapism, even if in reality you have hardly escaped that circumstance.
And then it hit 'cha like a fist on a wall Who gave U life when there was none at all? Who gave the sun permission 2 rise up everyday? (Ooh, oh yes) Let me tell it (Go'n) If U ask God 2 love U longer Every breath U take will make U stronger Keepin' U happy (happy) and proud 2 call His name (Go'n and say it) Jesus (Jesus)
One must remember, the source of sustenance that does not submit to rational thought, yet it makes a difference that no words that so readily explain. Why do I speak in tongues, words that escape my lips daily in a language I have no comprehension of? I pray for a difference, for liberty, for freedom, for security, for happiness, for companionship, for another with whom to share and bear the burdens of living and life.
Indeed, I want to go down to the holy river and take more than a sip of the crystal life-giving waters, I feel ready to drown in the swell that sweeps me off my feet and delivers me to the other bank lifted, resuscitated and refreshed by angels that strengthen me with every supply to be well beyond what my even my dreams could never contemplate.
Let’s go down to the holy river, if we drown then we’ll be delivered. My deliverance is here.
[] Full Audio of The Holy River - Provided to YouTube by Sony Music Entertainment
December is always a significant month for me in terms of celebrations. 20 days ago, I reached another landmark of 12 years of blogging and a week ago, I turned 50.
I had considered marking these significant events by inviting friends to blog on my blog, but the attempt was half-hearted, besides the fact that since the 17th of November, I have only spent 4 nights at home, the rest has been on the road, for work and much else.
However, even that feeble call for contributions was heard by one of my social media friends who also contributed to the Decade Blogs of 2013, his commemorative piece then titled, Ten years of Blogging.
Raymond Inkabi, this time for my Silken Blog anniversary, using wedding anniversary terminology, writes on blogging as a purpose with the title The Tyranny of Happiness, I am happy and honoured to have him write for my blog again. He tweets with the Twitter handle @Alykka and writes his own blogs at http://RaymondInkabi.WordPress.com.
The Tyranny of Happiness
How we handle the now, defines what lies in the future and in the wine dark hollow belly of our immortal soul. Now how this soul is a place of internal play of tensions, struggles, indecision, writer's block, mood swings, anger, as much as a place of desire, peace, happiness, imagination and the writing of the self is one to be researched on.
To write blogs and then keep writing, displays a tension between two psychological positions: blogging to testify to an identity of (see, this is who I am) but also, blogging to bear witness to all who might want to listen to your story (see, this is who I am prevented from being).
Blogging is thus configured as a gateway that is, a route of escape in search for eternal fulfilment and inner peace. Which is found only embodied in our blogs which turn a playground, stage and laboratory, with the aim of producing and creating singular and multi-plural ways of the pursuit of happiness.
The shifting back and forth between writing and not writing, lies at the heart of our soul at a time in our collective history when new information technologies (social networks, commentary, art, philanthropies, what is and what is not, political correctness, exotic travels and saving the world) are reconfiguring our relationship to time, space and balance.
This indeed posits that we are not alone and Calypso in our domestic life, our life is pervaded with outside voices that come to inhabit and activate it, as if to find one’s voice, one had to first let oneself be taken over by the voices of others, as if one had to read the world before one could write it. And reassuringly, continues the blurring of the borders between to write and not to, interiority and exteriority, to tweet and not to tweet, follow and to unfollow, and "to be or not to be" - apologies Shakespeare, enabling each of us to fuse, superimpose, combine and separate those borders that hint of not just the inevitableness of a writer's block, but any block.
For Twelve years of blogging activity, makes it possible to activate and redefine one’s presence in the world, and serve as a powerful catalyst of forms to establish an identity.
As I grew in confidence to get around Johannesburg, I abandoned the overpriced taxi services offered by my hotel and took to the use of UberBlack which is the high-end luxury chauffeur service of Uber.
One of the inconveniences of hailing a taxi cab by Uber was that it always pointed to the address next-door and I had to edit that address every time before putting in my destination. I still feel the Android app for Uber is still in need of updating to give it a better and more intuitive user experience.
When my rides arrived, I still had to look out for the model of car, the number plate and then the identity and name of the driver. It would have been more helpful to include the colour of the vehicle too.
A memorable Uber ride
Of the many rides I had on Uber, there was one that remained quite memorable in my mind, I mostly sat in front with the driver and started off a conversation about how they were, how their day has been and then I told them I was visiting from the UK and we just talked.
Then he came to, he thought about what might be in 10 years’ time if he did meet the lady who broke his heart again. Would she be glad that she left him? Would he be glad that she left him? Would they both be glad that they had moved on with their lives in a productive and positive manner?
That brought him to the conclusion that he had to do the best for himself and hope for another chance in love and happiness. And so he finished his studies, found a new lover, built a family and he is now as happy as he can ever be.
Ever writing a better story
What struck me about this was that without him knowing, he had already written a better story about his own life, as we all try to write our own versions of a fairy tale that has the final line of ‘they lived happily ever after.’
As I have written many times before, our lives are stories, we can decide how we want those stories written by the way we face the issues and life and hopefully find that strength to come through adversity to a better place.
Sadly, many never get to write a continuing story with a happier ending for all sorts of reasons and it does not make their story less a human story, but in sharing our own stories in our own voice, we might just be the voice and the encouragement that gives the other person, the faith, the hope and the support they need to see beyond the hills, see beyond the clouds and press on to a brighter day.
I have always had very liberal views on the issue of marriage that it has rarely bothered me what the gender pairing might be. Man to woman, man to man, woman to woman, if you've ever been in any of those shoes, love is a mysterious and powerful force.
The issue of gay marriage is more one of legal rights, in that if a person has chosen to live their lives with another, when certain critical life decisions need to be taken, the position and primacy of partner, lover, companion and spouse must not be trammelled.
Significance for the other
The situation where same-sex partners suddenly find themselves relegated by the family on the critical matters of life and death where there is no legal backing for the union is untenable.
Partners are people with whom one shares intimacy and companionship that neither family nor friend can aspire to. Hopes, fears, cares, anxieties and issues of life are exchanged in a bond no outsider to that partnership can begin to comprehend or unravel, it is unique between the people in that intimate relationship.
That family or relations might disapprove of the relationship does not invalidate it, lives are intertwined and hearts are melded, cleaved in a mystery indecipherable yet simple.
Religion is moot
It is such that marriage ceremonies are just what they are, ceremonies; the law recognises the civil contract of partnership and delegates a legal instrument to religious and civic institutions to contract marriages. A marriage might well be a religious activity to some, but it is fundamentally a civil contract that grants spousal rights to a chosen companion with whom a person has decided to share that responsibility with.
It is with that in mind that regardless of the age difference between Stephen Fry and Elliott Spencer, I celebrate the core element of the relationship which in the words of the younger makes compelling reading. He said, “I don’t care what people think, Stephen is the love of my life, the light of my life.” “We laugh all the time,” he continued “Humour is the binding thing in our life. I think that’s what brought us together.” [The Independent]
The pursuit of happiness
Now, if that is not the ultimate pursuit of happiness, I wonder what is. To have someone to laugh with, to cry with, to hold, to hug, to share the most intimate moments and know that when the biggest decisions are to be made, they are not sidelined, but significant, they should be front and centre, just as they have been chosen to be front and centre, bound in a union of love that sometimes dares not speak its name.
It took me a while to understand that in all this, sometimes marriages do not work and divorce is the only option for each party to find another hopeful opportunity for love. I had to unlearn my fundamentalist schooling to appreciate that marriages are never made in heaven but worked and played on earth. There is no fairy tale moment, just experiences, some good, some bad, some happy, some sad and if the fun outweighs the absence of laughter, you have a good thing going.
I am for everything that gives a tightly knit companionship of hearts legal standing, straight or gay marriage –who really cares? Let the significant other be significant in life and be very significant too in the eyes of the law.
I just read that Frank
Maloney, the boxing promoter is now undergoing gender reassignment having
apparently been living as a woman for a while.
Now, Frank Maloney would in
all terms be regarded a tough man with regards to his career as a boxing
promoter, that business environment is at best brutal, if not quite difficult
too.
However, she is now
to be known as Kellie Palace Maloney which is both brave and interesting.
The conflicts of before
The Wikipedia entry for
Kellie Maloney which has been revised to accommodate the feminine gender of the
person, reads as an interesting struggle with inner turmoil between what was
presented as publicly hard-faced whilst privately conflicted.
Besides having been
a boxing trainer, manager and promoter, she made uncomplimentary comments about
the lesbian and gay communities and when she dabbled in politics, she stood for
the UK Independence Party (UKIP)
whose right-wing populism is fearful and worrisome.
It would be
curmudgeonly to suggest that publicly, Kellie had been a vocally strident
opponent of the things she was as a person, in what is a bizarre form of aversion
therapy bordering on rank hypocrisy, yet, people do have a long and difficult
journey to realising who they really are and are ready to be.
Coming to terms
Coming to a point
of self-acceptance where one does not care for accusation, abuse, stigma or
shame is a personal victory of sorts over the wider influences of society that persuades
people to conform and toe the line.
Surprised as I may
be at this development, I can only congratulate Kellie
Maloney for taking this decision in the pursuit of her happiness and the
fulfilment of who she really believes she is.
However, like many
us on the journey to openly accepting who we really are, there are some well-rehearsed
lines of why we conform and how we get to the point where we are ready to live.
Offloading burdens
“I was
born in the wrong body and have always known I was a woman. I can’t keep living
in the shadows, that is why I am doing what I am today. Living with the burden
any longer would have killed me.”
We could find
different paraphrases of these lines spoken by Kellie Maloney to address many
choices we have made under pressure to conform, for careers, for relationships,
for coming-out, for gender reassignment and the much wider spectrum of human
endeavour and expression.
Whether society is
open-minded and accepting of it is the different topic, but too many of us have
sacrificed ourselves to living with a burden of who we are not and it has left
us unhappy, depressed, despairing, ashamed, guilt-ridden and sometimes suicidal.
The amazing thing
is how easy it is to breathe when we release ourselves into living the truth of
who we are and just get on with enjoying our lives.
Kelli Maloney,
thank you for accepting and becoming who you are.
