Strength to Endure: A Year of Recovery, Work, and Gratitude

Jolly Off the Year

As my year of work concludes today, I am filled with wonder and gratitude for all it has been. For so long, I have had the opportunity to finish the year on or just before my birthday; that's one of the benefits of it falling just ten days before the end of the year.

A Year of Significance

Many things make this year significant. A year ago, I was recuperating in Cape Town after radiotherapy for prostate cancer. It was also a difficult time; we had barely enough to make ends meet, but for the generosity of friends who contributed to help.

Although I should have extended my sick leave, I was eager to return home and regain some normalcy. From my experience 14 years ago, one of the signs of recovery was returning to doing what you once did: work, travel, the everyday routines, even if there was barely any strength to cope.

The Return Home

I returned to Manchester on the 30^th of December to find my home in complete disarray, and I had a house sitter for the seven weeks I was abroad. After about 20 hours of travel from door to door, I still don't know where I found the strength to run the vacuum cleaner around the apartment while keeping my composure at the state of my home, the occupant aware of when I was returning.

On the 3^rd of January, I signed on my work laptop and informed my managers that I would be back on Monday, the 6^th of January, and we would take it as we went. I did not use a paced return-to-work plan but dove straight in. Aside from the two-week break I took at the end of August into September, I have worked every single day, bar public holidays and hospital appointment days.

The Body's Remarkable Capacity

The body’s ability to adapt and condition itself to the challenges of a working environment, without what I had previously experienced, is admirable. The side effects of fatigue, nightly insomnia, bladder incontinence, and a fluctuating voice, notwithstanding, strength grew to endure and thrive.

There were times I wondered if, by the will of my spirit over the exhaustion of my body, I was doing too much and not adjusting pace, momentum, pressure, and ease enough. Thankfully, I had great support from my manager. He demonstrated much emotional intelligence and empathy as I pushed myself, sometimes being the first in the office and the last to leave.

The People in My Circle

Brian, my daily strength and support; Kola, my friend into the fifth decade; Funmi, who took me from the office at closing during the summer months; colleagues who were kind, understanding, and considerate; and the professional support personnel who listened, advised, and counselled. I could not have had better people around me.

To a stranger, they wouldn’t realise this was a man, 18 months after a prostate cancer diagnosis that required active treatment starting 15 months ago. Then, in September, the PSA readings were the lowest they have ever been. I read stories of men whose results were over 40 times the highest reading I had in March 2024.

Gratitude and Blessings

God, I am grateful for Your mercies and loving kindness.

To top it all, I still had 14 days of annual leave at the start of the month and agreed to work five more days this year, with the plan to carry those five days over into 2026. On the eve of turning 60, it has been a wonderful year. I am blessed beyond measure, and that is my testimony, for I live to tell better stories. Thank you to all who made 2025 the year it was, and there is more to come.

Thought Picnic: Just trying to be human

Usually totally misread

The way it creeps upon you is strange and unsettling; I try to keep constant what I can control, while letting go of the things that seem expendable, as much as possible. I suppose people see in me a disposition that never suggests I could be as vulnerable, so when I do feel it, it is often read as something else.

I was shocked when I was asked if I had an idea to end it all; though I’ve faced overwhelming situations, I have opposed them firmly with positivity and hope. What I want to be remembered for is quite different from what that might suggest. Put that under the rubric of concern, I was advised.

I am aware that I always want to tell a better story. Those who think they know me rarely sense that sometimes I’m not feeling social or wanting to go out. Usually, when I am alone, I am more of a loner, an introvert, even if I express myself too candidly with words, generally well put together.

What I really feel

Yet, to the question about how I do feel in myself, I can never be negative, even if I do not feel the way I want to feel. It’s an intrusive but understandable question, yet even in my relationships, you’d hardly see past the surface; genuine closeness and physical intimacy are needed to see beneath.

By pressing on, I have avoided exposing my vulnerability, lack of desire, or disinterest. That feels like a luxury I can ill afford, given the demands placed on me to respond, engage, reach out, contribute, be present, and consider others' perspectives, often at the expense of myself.

There was a time I could shut myself away completely — curtains drawn, indoors for days, like Miss Havisham, who’s never stopped her clocks — but no one truly understands that need for occasional hibernation. Yes, I do value solitude and being alone.

I have lost my weakness

Much of this stems from repeated experiences of abandonment across different stages of life, including during illness, where my coping mechanism masks deeper suffering. Even my way of recovering downplays the seriousness of what I face; what people see and what is real are often different.

Heck, Akin, you had a malignant cancer diagnosis just over a year ago, and during those critical moments — from diagnosis, decisions, to treatment while working every day — you faced it largely alone.

I didn’t take a break until a month after radiotherapy, as I realised I had exhausted much resilience and needed someone to lean on, despite many challenges and the feeling that seeking help was somehow wrong.

We are never depressed

There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t put it into words. I have weaknesses easily overlooked because of the 'firstborn syndrome' and the idea that I am a pillar of strength. It’s a constant struggle to live up to that myth, as if I’m superhuman, when I am simply human.

We are never truly depressed — this would be an incomplete reflection, and I don’t want to be scrutinised or given poor advice based on assumptions. We don’t all fit preconceptions or boxes, but others rarely understand when someone’s difference doesn’t match their frame of reference.

How many allowances can be made for others? In the depths of the night, I hear a cry: “Please, don’t forget me.” Just as I want to reply, “Hold yourself together,” I realise I have to cater to these pleas — and it’s a pipe dream to think I’ll always be looked after.

I am tired, not of living, but of constantly meeting others’ expectations, which strains my mental resources, making me want to retreat into my own cocoon. Obligations, responsibilities, duties, commitments, demands — all of it. Yes, that sense of depression can creep in strange and unsettling ways.

Lest I forget, Africans are never depressed when you have the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

This Humpty Dumpty does get up

Ambitions live on

If ever I needed to be reminded, I was chasing waterfalls when I should have, for now, stuck to the rivers and lakes that have grounded me after that prostate cancer diagnosis in June last year, I faced a brutal reality on Wednesday night.

Inadvertently, I found myself having completed more than 10,000 steps in the previous six days, not out of deliberate effort, but in the drudgery of everyday events. That realisation on Wednesday indicated I needed just over 5,000 steps to make it 7 days in a row, a feat I have not achieved in quite a long time.

Maybe, make it a charted and timed walk, which records pace, heart rate for intensity, cadence and some other interesting, though mundane data along with the time to recovery. I set out on a route I had not plied in over a year, thinking I would catch the breeze on my walk.

Brought to ground suddenly

I was barely over a kilometre into my walk and out of nowhere, I do not think I tripped, my legs and feet seemed to scatter below my frame, and my brain kindly suggested I was going down. I was soon tumbling down, breaking my fall with my left knee and hands that thankfully had leather gloves on.

There was some momentum in the fall, and I rolled into half the outer lane of a dual carriageway that was not well-lit. I was so fortunate that no cars were coming. I picked myself up, took a few strides and rested on a wall as I caught my breath.

Someone waiting at the bus stop opposite must have seen it because he called from across the road to enquire if I was alright. I could only lift my hand in a gesture towards him.

A fresh whitish knee

A few minutes later, the debate was ongoing in my head about whether to continue or return home, my knee seething with the rage of a graze, my determination was to continue, and so I did to complete 13,408 steps for the day.

When I eventually got to look at my knee, I had revealed almost a square inch of flesh, but not much of a bleed compared to how I did not stop bleeding after I went for blood tests on Tuesday, and my shirt was stained.

There is a lot that I want to do, but I am not where I think I am; certain limitations constrain me even as I defy natural laws to do more than my body seems equipped for currently. The recovery process, as I am gently told by both my body and advisors, will take a while, I need to be patient with myself and adjust my goals within the framework of mental and physical abilities.

I have continued to exceed the 10,000-step goal, while my knee is not healing as fast as I had hoped. Meanwhile, Brian suggests I apply a dash of methylated spirit, considering how he’ll bawl at the application of a denatured and non-alcoholic dressing. Two fingers to my eyes and pointing those fingers at him.

Sam: Most impactful in lowly endeavour

Beyond the strength we have

Understanding and appreciating frailty after illness or treatment for disease can be a difficult thing. We strive as much as possible to get back to normalcy even if our bodies suggest we are nowhere near the capacity for the abilities we once had.

The bodily stresses of fatigue, lethargy, weakness, or tiredness are signals requiring action from rest to additional medical attention towards some sort of resolution. The life and circumstances we live in harshly dictate the reality of there being no pills for the bills.

Even where we have a cushion of support to banish the concern of livelihood, we need some sort of activity to take our minds off infirmity and adversity. Having lived through this sort of thing, I am quite acquainted with the issues involved.

Escaping illness for work

Attending the office this morning, I was met with some rather sad news, the lady who maintains and cleans the office, with whom I have had a good rapport had passed on. I saw her barely 3 weeks ago, it was my first time back in the office since before I commenced radiotherapy in September.

We had a few conversations, a big catchup from the end of June when she had been in hospital for an extended period and though she was back at work, she looked rather gaunt and frail, we were both glad to see each other. It never occurred to me that it would be the last time.

The shock of learning of her demise was quite unsettling, someone would suggest she returned to work much earlier than necessary, but how do you gauge the right time to return to work if all your life you have espoused dignity in labour? Call some of us old-fashioned, we’d rather work than get by on handouts or welfare.

The value in everyone

For those who can game the system to exist in indolence, there can be no praise or adulation. I guess it belies the flaws in the system. To live a purposeful life is what matters. Sam, as I remember her was forthright, clear-minded, tough, and engaging. I remember my father not wanting me to converse with the help, but how could we be in proximity and not engage?

Sam’s work kept the office environment clean, conducive, clear, and comfortable. She was as much a member of our team as anyone else, if not one of the most important of us all for what she did, for without her contributions, no one would consider the office a place to work.

As I have always taken my time to chat to everyone most especially the cleaners, she would be sorely missed. May her gentle soul rest in peace. Her light has gone but her memory remains.

Somebody I used to know

Is that really me?

Yesterday brought some issues into stark relief as I attended a men’s group where a recording of an interview done some months before I commenced radiotherapy had ended up in a short documentary for the organisation.

Hearing my voice amplified and played back to my hearing still feels strange, there is a disembodied otherworldliness about it that leaves me uncomfortable. Having taken some readings at the cathedral, I am getting used to it, and it will only get better.

However, with my voice as it is today, the person I saw and heard looked like I was watching somebody that I used to know. There are differences I am working hard to bring back to who I once knew.

Managing the limits

For instance, I would have a brisk walk to the men’s group from my home in twenty or so minutes, that I was not even contemplating yesterday, I hopped on a bus for the three stops and on my way back, I did the same.

There is an urge to do a lot more, but I soon realise it tires me out quite easily, the occasions for rest are more frequent, and it could be a battle to concentrate. Yet, I do apply myself quite diligently to the tasks I set out to do from cooking to revising for a test among other essential activities.

No breaks in transmission

Earlier in the day before the men’s group, I was out to take a Microsoft certification test. I put in a good week of work on the material and in the process, I learnt quite a bit.

By Monday, I had done enough to tackle the challenge. Distractions impacted my ability to do a last revision overnight and from then, I decided not to bother myself any further with last dibs.

I passed the test and gained a new certification. There are vestiges of that person that I used to know that are still active. The temporary loss of strength and timbre in my voice does not indicate a loss of expression. I can be as forceful as I have always been.

After playing back the documentary, I was invited onto a panel to share views and opinions. Akin is still there, there is no break in transmission.

Celebrating a return from illness

Many happy returns

One of the hallmarks of recovery is the blessing of returning to doing the things you used to do. After my treatment for cancer in 2010 and the regaining of strength, I travelled from Amsterdam to Antwerp. It was my first international travel in over half a year; I used to travel internationally, at least once a month.

Illness comes with privations, first obviously with health and then another pressing issue is one of means, your resources seem to not stretch as much as they used to, whether you are earning or not. The way I view things, living is wonderful and living well comes with grace and favour, for which I give thanks and praise.

Daring for strength

While going to Cape Town in November looked like returning to normalcy after cancer treatment, I was far from able, I was quite frail. Embarking on a 22-hour journey from door to door in my condition was both determined and daring, however, it was for the care and support I needed in a time of vulnerability.

It was no holiday, and it did me much good. It was also a time to be with Brian, who doted over me at every step and cautioned me about trying to make a holiday of my recuperation, much as I desired not to have our time together left to the travails of just being nursed. It stretched our resources, but needs must.

The toll of return

I was last in the office the day before I commenced radiotherapy, as I left my workplace, I indicated I might be away for a while and did not know when I would be attending again. My return to the office last Wednesday was postponed to yesterday because of the inclement weather. We have a monthly gathering of Manchester-located members of my team who meet with the head honcho.

My managers were concerned about my facility, ability, and strength to attend, but I had missed my team, the last gathering I attended was in August.

I was up quite early and altered my route to avoid carrying my trolley case up and down steps. It was still dark when I left home, we are in the winter months, and I returned home in the dark too.

Striving over wilting

The day was successful, I had forms to fill in and return on my phased return to work. My voice was hardly in fine form, it exhibited tiredness and fatigue, but I never shirked from conversation or repartee. Everyone seemed pleased to see me, they came to my desk to ascertain how well I was doing, and every serious situation quickly dampened with humour.

By the middle of the day, I was beginning to wilt. Drinking decaffeinated tea is not an elixir by any stretch of the imagination; I just had to push through.

I was not inclined to engage in a harebrained scheme that involved messy activity, but it percolated in my absence as someone still wanted it realised. I gave my candid verdict, and a discussion tomorrow might help shape expectations.

Taking things easy

What yesterday taught me was that while I have every inclination to believe that I can fully return to work, the reality is that I need to pace myself as my strength and body are not yet operating at optimum capacity.

On getting home, I undressed and was already dozing off as I spoke to Brian about my day. I was exhausted, but for the day, I made great progress. I am grateful for that. As for my next return to the office, I cannot tell, it is working from home for the near future.

Wisely manage exertion or you crash

What a sedentary year

Thinking of my main exercise, walking, I have noticed that this year, I have just barely breached 2,000,000 steps in what might, from one perspective, seem like my laziest year in the last five years.

Without making excuses, I understand that the advent of cancer and the treatment of the same limited my facility for exertion in ways I could not have anticipated. I started radiotherapy taking the advice that I could continue doing the routine things I used to do. Still, the experience taught me a lesson that my mind was way ahead of my body, for my body to attempt to catch up.

When I was actively walking, my smartwatch and health app would suggest after every session, the expected recovery time. A serious workout of 13.5 kilometres in about 2 hours called for almost an 18-hour recovery time for my age and abilities. That intensive brisk walking activity has for now sunk into the annals of memory.

What I cannot do now

For instance, yesterday, we went into Cape Town for brunch and decided to walk the seafront promenade from the public baths to the V&A Waterfront. That was about 4.7 km in the warmth of a hot summer. I was caught out, my desire strong, but my strength waning, by the time we reached our destination, I needed Brian for support, and I was totally exhausted.

As much as I tried to push myself, I could do little. On getting back home, I crashed out and my voice when I had to make some calls was closer to a wisping whisper, almost unrecognisable to people who knew me.

Recovery is the package

The moral of the story is that I am not as able as I think I am. For all the youthful zest I possess, I am somewhere in the grandpa category of having to take things easy, and for everything I do, I need adequate and extended recovery time. This is compounded by the fact that I am recuperating and so, I need considerably more time to recover my strength.

Staying in Muizenberg has many benefits. The beach is just 5 minutes away, and it is a good long walk in the breeze to the kiteboarding and surfboarding areas. It is tranquil, refreshing, exhilarating, and good for the soul. On good days, we make the most of the situation, and that is the tonic we need.

Thought Picnic: On refusing to be defined by cancer

Like an impatient patient

I became a cancer patient long before I had the option to consent because every cancer diagnosis in the UK gets put on what is essentially a national cancer registry. I was informed only as a matter of courtesy that this had been done. I would think it was weeks before I had a conversation with the consultant, and I had known of this diagnosis because of the poor sequestration and handling of information within my local NHS trust.

Beyond this, you strain every sinew within you not to be defined as a cancer patient, yet that is somewhat taken out of your control, my spirit, strong and commanding, willing with strength over the deprecations my body exhibits in symptoms of both the cancer and the treatment of it.

Chief among these side effects is fatigue that results in tiredness, irregular sleeping patterns, nocturnal insomnia, and a weakened timbre of voice in speaking, the urinary tract is slightly irritated, and bowel movements seem rather restricted.

Willing against bodily handicaps

Having determined I would attend church today as I could not last Sunday for the simple reason that I hardly slept the Saturday night before, the same was happening today. Unlike a fortnight ago, I knew I wouldn’t be walking to church, it was best to do this by Uber.

As the alarm clock went off, I did not bother to put it in snooze mode, I stopped the alarm and pondered whether it was beneficial to grab the sleep I could or rise to the challenge my body was unwilling to meet, but my spirit ruled against.

I rose and went to the bathroom for the essential ablutions. I bedecked myself in the apparel I wore for my last radiotherapy appointment on Friday before hailing an Uber ride to church. I arrived as the processional hymn was sung and sat beside a steward friend.

I only stood up for the gospel and for Communion, the collects in my saying lagged the congregation and no attempt was made to sing any of the hymns, my voice just could not modulate toward tuneful expression, it would have taken all the strength out of me.

The community, our church is

My absence last week left many quite concerned and I received messages and calls asking about my welfare. I was also not aware that many other members of the church knew I was having cancer treatment, and some were praying for me. I sometimes forget how closely knit our church community is.

If I had not attended church today, I would have had people at my door checking up on me, in a sense it is lovely to be noticed and missed. Next week is the Judges’ Service signifying the opening of the legal year. In other circumstances, I would have attended to steward the proceedings as it is a civil service, I think I’ll have a lie-in and recoup my strength.

Another Uber ride back home even in infirmity, let the weak say I am strong.

We stand assured

We stand alone

For the Lord GOD will help me; therefore shall I not be confounded: therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed. [Bible Hub: Isaiah 50:7 (KJV)]

Some of the challenges we face in life, we almost always face alone; when we receive the news of a terrible diagnosis presenting a dark realisation of existential mortality, the thoughts that run riot in your head are a Babel of incomprehensibility captured in a moment that seems like an eternity.

For me, I can only say that I have been blessed as I hear the prognosis and seek to appreciate the import of what has been said. Then from within wells up a fight, my face is set like a flint, unflinching in adversity and refusing to be defined by the immediate incapacity.

We stand assured

It makes sobriety feel like a curse, all your faculties are engaged, you are in no doubt that you seek a repetition of the situation, you heard right the first time, you do not need a confirmation. However, you seek a place to reflect, the quietude of a lonely moment before embracing the healing succour of slumber.

Indeed, sleep does stop the mind from wandering into the wilderness like a marauding prophet of doom bedecked in anything but the finery of the acceptable, mad beyond any redeeming quality, except to instil fear.

We are saved from the situation and saved from ourselves. We are strengthened with resolve to face adversity and to emerge with stories and testimonies that blow the mind. The spirit that is the engine of our sustenance continues to drive us forward with the clear reasoning that as long as we live, we will live well, thrive, and do good. In that, we know, we shall not be ashamed.

Beyond cancer threat to stories of health

Winded by the speed

The speed at which things have moved presented a cause for concern much in the need of allaying any anxiety. As you pay attention to your health and seek the best outcomes, some processes and procedures become a medical requirement for ensuring things are nipped in the bud at the earliest opportunity.

A few blood tests, a conversation with my GP and a visit to the surgery for a preliminary assessment have set me on the path to a date with some of the best urologists in the field and what my GP casually suggested would be a scan, might well be a bit more uncomfortable at this studio that offers a one-stop shop of tests superficial and intrusive, aided by a local anaesthetic.

The scheduled duration of 30 minutes could last up to 4 hours and all that is in an appointment letter that landed before I picked up the post proposing an analysis of my GP’s request.

Checking off cancer prospects

Before one is a potential cancer diagnosis or just the discovery of the cause of symptoms that could not be explained from being felt up in a funny place. Having dealt with cancer before, I can safely suggest it does not entirely prepare you for the prospect that you might be checking for it and unsure until you are given the all-clear.

Health stability in managing long-term conditions can lull one into complacency and a renewed sense of invincibility. Life is fleeting, each day is a gift and a blessing for which we should be thankful and grateful.

Beyond every looming threat

What you find in certain issues of life, is you need to cultivate your support network of significant persons that would buoy you through tough times. People with whom to share burdens and talk about things, partners, friends, and others, depending on how comfortable you feel about things.

My faith is also a critical source of succour and strength, feeding on the encouragement of the Word of God in the Bible and in the sermons of anointed preachers to confidently call those things that be not as though they were.

The times I have faced life-threatening diagnoses and conditions with the hope and assurance that I have the grace of a better story and a testimony seeking to be told; whether the threat or reality of cancer, it would not be the last you’ll hear of me.

Other reading

Blog - Cancer is a human experience, not a battle won or lost

Blog - When I had the murderous cancer of denial

Blog - Thought Picnic: I share hoping it can help

Blog - Cancer: No journey is the same

Dare I learn to laugh again?

Where is my laughter?

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.

Blog: Sadly Sad Sadness (July 2023)

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.

Blog: Laughter follows my hospital visit (October 2009)

Blog: Thought Picnic: My laughter and my pain (July 2013)

Blog: Opinion: Where addiction and tragedy can confuse issues (April 2017)

Blog: And I laughed like Sarah (July 2021)

Blog: I was a hostage to pain (September 2022)

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

Thought Picnic: When mountains seem immoveable

Why am I here?

There are times when you walk into a place and a sudden vehemence attempts to rise up within you to protest that you do not belong there. There is an otherness of the unfamiliar to which there is little relationship or understanding, the stuff you read about is usually, the sort of thing that exercises remoteness to your situation until circumstances change to give you experience.

The things I am good at, I think I know, and there are many other things I have rarely been able to adopt and bring into my frame of reference. Even where there is an entitlement, that ability to exercise access to such is at once distant and a niggling sense of failure. Things were not supposed to be like this, but things do happen and you do not have to be elected or selected to be the object of happenstance, it is the cycle of life.

What do I do?

What has sometimes threatened me and held me up is a kind of paralysis, the inability to fathom and find the wherewithal to act decisively in areas where there is little knowledge or total ignorance. These are places where for my failings and foibles, I probably need a bit more patience exercised from interlocutors as I am guided towards possibility and accessibility.

When humbled by the situation and humiliated by circumstances, you are quite easily marooned in the throes of turmoil, unable to concentrate and less able to accentuate. Progress comes to a standstill and confidence begins to look like a wonderful tool that was once effective but left to waste and somewhat ineffectual.

Where is the source?

When I look at it, I cannot answer why I am here, but since I am here, it is what I have to deal with. I have gotten to a point where I am no more praying for time, even as time is a constant rolling forward of participation engaged or reluctant, now, a miracle is something else, that is one thing I know I need, not just one, but many.

Even when I think I have run out of resources, strength comes, we never really know our own strength until a demand is made on it. I have to believe I am here to write a better story.

In the eve of the year of the Lord 2023

What is a year?

Time is a construct of a frame of reference and for us earthlings, it represents how long it takes for the earth to revolve around the sun, our sun. Any day of 24 hours of the earth rotating once on its own axis can become that point from 365 days and a bit is measured to become a year and invariably, every day is a New Year.

It makes one wonder what ushering in the New Year is all about and whether one should put any more significance to any day than another, but in our humanity and depending on the culture and how we relate to the heavenly bodies we have broadly agreed on a concept of time measurement and milestones that makes today the last day of the calendar year of 2022 AD [anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi (in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ)].

It is grace upon me

The religious and Western significance of AD is not lost on me, for it allows me to reflect on the disappointments, misfortunes, sadness, failures, happiness, goodness, mercy, strength, comfort, successes, expectations, hopes, and good health that have defined this interesting year.

On a personal level, I know I am loved beyond what I could ever deserve, and I am grateful to my lover, Brian, my family, my friends, my neighbours, and even strangers that have held me up and buoyed me through situations I could hardly have traversed alone. Even more so, my faith has strengthened me constantly renewing and replenishing where exhaustion deigns to take hold.

Gearing to God

For those who drive, gears need to be engaged for a car to move with some determination, a car in neutral will remain stationary except if it is on an incline and the brakes were taken off, then it rolls and without control might well crash into something, causing damage.

It makes me think about how in religion faith and believing in God is also one of direct and practical engagement in prayer and supplication with desire and conviction for things to happen, God does not work in neutral, though accidents do happen.

The best comes

I am thankful for my health holding strong even after a scare that had me blue-lighted to the hospital a week ago, nothing to fear, just a strain that subsided after a couple of days without any intervention. The suddenly of anxiety soon gave way to the calm of assurance and a recovery of verve and swerve.

Daily, I have reason and cause to smile, even to laugh, to praise and to be filled with thankfulness, the privations of the present being swept away in the deluge of plentiful abundance of means, favour, opportunity, adventure, excitement, and dreams coming true. Let us reach out with the purpose to enter into the jubilee of the year of the Lord 2023.

Wishing you a very Happy New Year, the best is on its way.

Thought Picnic: Gathering my thoughts from despair

The darkest night and clouds

To think of the many things, I want to sigh about in consideration of events and issues that have not been as favourable as one would have wanted. The times my mind wanders into tunnels that scream despair and desolation to the hearing that I refuse to heed.

There are words that seek to speak from my lips that restraint would tell should not be spoken, looming hopelessness trying hard to envelop hope and expectation as you walk through the darkest times into the light ahead.

The toll is heavy on health and well-being, you become a recluse of all kinds of expression even as the walls that seem to close upon you are held away from collapsing on your helpless frame by forces within and beyond that grow with the intensity of a volcanic eruption blowing apart the concealment of ineffectuality, I will thrive beyond my wildest dreams even if now all you are clawing at is the will to survive.

Strengthened beyond description

Life is a force that defies explanation and the will to live and live well is more than a burning desire that gives strength to see beyond the present struggles. When all is said and done, you are a warrior that goes down fighting for what we have resolved to do change the soldier’s narrative as victory is won more by making the enemy die for their country much as the heroics of dying for one’s country might eventually be celebrated.

When I feel that I am alone in the battle that I face, what I do not see with my naked eyes is the multitude of angels arrayed in battle on my side, I am growing in confidence that in this experience of what life is, I am on the winning side. Goodness and mercy follow me, all the days of my life. [BibleGateway - 2 Kings 6:17-20 (NIV) Psalm 23:6a (NKJV).

My hopes say my fears will not prevail

In all my weakness

Sometimes, I have to wonder how I keep pressing on, how despite the many things that cause fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and turmoil, hitting at the door of my composure threatening to break an entry and overwhelm me with the audacity of the invasion of an armed robber.

I am only human, all the more vulnerable, concerned about circumstances that I believe will turn right, though, at this time, things are not where they should be. The vicissitudes of life are an ever-present indicator that ease and difficulty are the ebb and flow of the currents that define the stories of life.

I will not falter

At times, it seems relentless and unyielding, then you think again, I can face this and face this down, this will pass, it will become a distant memory. It is just not that comfortable when you are sitting in the middle of a storm. I know I will weather it, even when I think my strength is totally exhausted, the reserves that buoy me up would say, grace, good fortune, blessing, and favour is on my side.

Until I draw my last breath, I am here to tell a better story. Using the spirit of hope to my fears, they will not prevail.

Thought Picnic: Realising there is more to do

I am tired

As I walked to the restaurant to retrieve part of the incomplete order that I discovered after returning home yesterday, I had a feeling wash over me in thoughts I strive not to entertain when they visit in moments that are not as good as they can be.

I am tired, it tells me, as weariness and fatigue creep in, like I have done all I need to do, and I am ready to rest from all of it. For, after all, the bother is rarely and never that of the departed but of those that remain.

To matter or not at all

Earlier in the day, I read of a farmer whose coffin-bearing hearse was driven past the farm he once owned to see his cows for the last time. I wondered, to whose particular benefit that was apart from the performative gesture that could be as emotional as it could be totally meaningless.

Then as I pondered on this and the fact that that there is much to live for, a lady walks into the restaurant to first thank the waiter for his kindness towards her sister some months before as she fell ill, that sister sadly has been in hospital for weeks with a yet to be confirmed cancer diagnosis. The lady was somewhat resigned to the situation as she was invited for a discussion with her sister’s consultant who was not a bearer of good news.

As beacons of hope

I found myself comforting the lady as she began to cry, the concern for her sister all too evident and the feeling that they are alone in this ordeal. Indeed, she needed some space and time to come to terms with what was ahead and also gather the kind of strength and support to give her sister in this very impossibly difficult time.

Then I, an example of a cancer survivor cannot afford to be tired when there are people to comfort and encourage as they walk through essentially their own valleys of the shadow of death or have to face death itself. We cannot then give up in ourselves where we can give some sense of hope beyond despair. We do not exist for ourselves alone and with that in mind, we need to hold firm and face what is ahead to get through to the other end.

Exhausted as I feel attending to issues for myself and others who at times feel we draw from inexhaustible reserves of resolve and determination even when we absorb what should be batted away. I guess I just need some time to be human and vulnerable, as it is a part of living or otherwise.

Thought Picnic: The anchor of relative companionship

The power of real and virtual touch

It is quite unusual for anything to knock me sideways, as I try to regain focus on the important things and concentrate on matters of relevance and development. I guess what keeps me going is helped by the support and interaction I have with Brian, who though is far away always has the comforting words that buoy me when I am feeling listless.

It goes without saying that things would be much better with the human touch, a tight hug and a kiss, rubbing my back and soothing words as you feel the breath of closeness expressing love can go a much longer way. And whilst I am hardly the best to give any relationship advice, I can say without equivocation that having the stability of a partner in your life gives you more than an anchor to weather the storms of life.

In the bosom of knowing love

When surrounded by turmoil and uncertainty, you know there is a place you can go to where home provides safety and security, the shelter from where you can renew your strength and stand again to face the world. Our relationship though mostly spent apart than together even as we plan for when we can be together for longer provides a kind of enduring safe harbour that I cherish in my life.

I know that things would turn out right, they always do, blessings and favour encompass us to bring us not only to a good place but into the best and ever-improving pursuit and realisation of our goals. The obscure becomes more evident with each day as we press on diligently and hopefully hold each other and support each other. Just that smile and everything is alright with me.

Thought Picnic: On strength to my bones

Changes bringing changes

Generally, I would think I am strong and doing my best to keep healthy. It is however likely that with the change of environments from Manchester to Cape Town even though winter in Cape Town would pass for a mild summer at home I became slightly indisposed.

Irritation in the throat and a bit of a cough, before you knew it, I was completely sapped of energy of verve. Walking around our apartment, I was shuffling my feet rather than properly lifting them off the floor; not a good feeling at all.

A nurse without equal

I sicken too easily, and recovery can be brisk, once I have taken a good rest and slept the apparent fatigue off. I must commend Brian for his care, I guess he is worried sick seeing me literally incapacitated and he has seen this quite a few times too.

He rustles up a ginger, honey and lemon drink which is quite helpful and if he can persuade me to take a vitamin, it might well be strength to my bones. I hate popping pills apart from the ones I have been prescribed and for the aches and pains, Paracetamol with codeine gets to the root of the problem. I am perking up and feeling stronger, I won’t be doing any domestic chores today.

I put it down to change and the need to acclimatise taking comfort from stepping out onto the balcony to view Table Mountain and the beaches of Camps Bay, in one sweeping turn of the head. We love Cape Town, and this is where we meet to love.

In Telling: The spirit that sustains

Strength from within

I sometimes think about the effects of illness and how vulnerability and infirmity change your outlook, your inadequacies are exposed in ways you can never have been prepared for, and you are left with just your spirit to sustain you through it all.

In many ways, you cannot account from further than the next tick of the clock, for the pain, you can only have so much medication to dull it without putting you into a stupor because you still need to function in some way.

Then you wonder about the incredible resilience of our being, for whether we survive or not, there is no accounting for the strength that we usually never know we had. It is like you are tested to the limit and then some, if your body can just tolerate what it is put to it, providence and fortune might give you a story to tell.

In the passage of time

I am humbled by my experience and then I think about the fact that when I went for the Spring booster the NHS website failed to provide adequate information for when I was registering, I am not considered in a vulnerable cohort of the immunosuppressed, because my CD4 count is not over double the minimum threshold, though I think my medical history should make me eligible.

Whether it is good or bad news is beside the point, what I cannot afford at any time is to contract the Coronavirus and so, I still wear my face mask in enclosed places, avoid crowded spaces, and take necessary precautions. That is just how life is today.

A story to tell

I was chatting to my best friend last week and he asked that I consider writing about serious illness, how people face it, and how we try to get beneficial outcomes against the onslaught of the medical establishment which may not always be acting in our favour, especially when the experts are too arrogant and self-important to listen to our own perspective of what we are going through and what it is we need.

I am not quite sure of how this would go, but I can only write about my own experience and I hope those who read my story might find something of help or usefulness, I guess that is just what I will do.

Let hope lift you up

Time looking back

Ten years looking forward can be like impossible to plan for as everything one might have purposed or predicted could have been derailed by the vicissitudes of life and circumstance, we seem to take each day as it comes working towards something and hoping to achieve much.

Looking back ten years, however, presents a different perspective and though one can elicit moments and situations as milestones that have passed, it almost seems like yesterday, whether coming through misfortune or otherwise.

If anything defines this same day ten years ago, it was the spirit of hope in the face of catastrophic loss, for the 1st of May 2012 was a bookend to my life experience where after cancer, the loss of status and means, I had lost my home of ten and a half years and was handing the keys over to a young couple who had bought my home for a song.

Blog: Thought Picnic: It's Goodbye to Oostelijke Handelskade 1121

Breaking away to rise

There was much I could dwell upon, but I decided instead to walk away, I needed to create new memories and write a better story from a situation that appeared to overwhelm my ability to begin to rebuild from the multitude of adversities that started in mid-2009 and continued a slow burn of ultimate realisation towards radical change almost 3 years later.

By the time I had sold my home for a loss, there was nothing left to keep me in The Netherlands and the impetus to depart and return to The UK against all other entreaties had begun. I did eventually leave in mid-August of 2012 and from then things took a turn for the better in health, in life, in work, and now in love.

Hope beyond the maelstrom

I have a strong witness, it is the witness of the power of hope in the midst of knowing that you are living to live well, that optimism has a drive that tells you with the determination that whatever you are going through shall pass, pass into the past, pass into history, pass into the making of a new story. I can witness that I have been blessed with goodness, mercy, favour, grace, fortune, opportunity, and new chances with the thrill of adventure and excitement.

You might have heard from many that you should never give up, and you should not, but sometimes, there is nothing to undergird that in your circumstances, it is like being caught in a hopeless, helpless situation. I can say, we are more caught by the limit of our ability to imagine beyond where we are at, it is the valley of the shadow of death, a shadow, it is, not death itself and like the Psalmist says, we walk through it and lay down in green pastures beside the still waters.

As long as there is life, let your soul be restored with possibilities beyond where you are at, and return after the passage of time to reflect on the fact that you had more capacity and strength than you ever knew you had to first face your storms and not be swept away by its ferocity, however long it lasted, to enter into the glowing sunshine and beauty of telling a better story. Shalom!