Jene Frost; Going back to go forward

March 13, 2022April 20, 2022 / Lianne / Leave a comment

She was nearly 40 and it felt like a lifetime ago that she had driven up the farm road. The smell of coming home still lingered in the air; of eucalyptus trees, pine and wattle. It felt familiar and the memories were flooding in as if it were just yesterday. So much had happened here.

It’s a peculiar feeling of choosing to go back to a place that holds so many memories, a place that represents your childhood; a sacred place because of how it became such a significant part of your identity and how the events that unfolded there would shape the rest of your life.

There is almost an expectation of returning to a place like this, that it should remain unchanged as it has in your mind; how the farmhouse walls stand solid, how the garden is abundant with fruit and flowers, how the smell of home cooked food wafts from your mother’s kitchen on a Friday as you return home from boarding school, how your brother kick starts his new motorbike and disappears down the road in a cloud of dust and how your father steps out of his vehicle, evidently battered by another long week in the workshop and shouts, ‘Come on Jene, let’s go fishing.’

It had been years since Jene had been back to the area that she grew up in and even more years since she had returned to her childhood home and back to the place of the accident. Jene and her partner’s children had driven down to KwaZulu-Natal from Johannesburg to stay with her oldest and dearest school friend, Melinda. She wanted to give her partners young sons a taste of farm life and what it was like to grow up on a forestry estate in the lush KwaZulu-Natal Midlands in a small close-knit farming community. But most of all, Jene needed closure. When she was 15 years old, the life she knew changed forever in a matter of moments and recently she had been thinking about this time and place a lot and of the people who had so generously and lovingly supported her throughout those challenging, life changing years. Though she was not stuck, she wanted to immerse herself in these memories, get close to them, love them and feel the gratitude for everything that is because of what was. She’d go back to Natal for a week and in that time, she’d return to her family homestead and to the very place that she was found face down, falling in and out of consciousness and calling her mother’s name.

Jene sat in the passenger seat and Melinda drove. It didn’t happen often, but that day even Melinda was quiet! They’d decided to leave the children on Melinda’s farm while Melinda and her returned to Colbeck Estate for the first time and for the last time.

They were almost at the top of the hill and very close to the homestead’s entrance. Jene’s anticipation to be back at her childhood home increased with every landmark that they passed. The avenue of old Blue Gum trees stood tall, alluding to the assumption that a place as significant as this, that holds so much history and at one time, so much life – would go unchanged and defy the very passage of time. That it would always be as you remembered.

But it was not like this. Instead Jene returned ‘home,’ to find nothing. That everything that was still so vivid in her mind, no longer exists. Not even a brick. The only thing that remained from her childhood was her favourite tree – a solitary Redwood tree, as magnificent as she had always remembered it.

It was an unusual Redwood tree. Instead of having one solid trunk like most Redwoods, this tree stemmed five branches from the roots. These five branches grew in solidarity, supporting each other through the seasons of life, surviving the weight of heavy snowfall, of wind, of floods and drought. It was a tree that stood the test of time and it was the only tangible thing left of Jene’s past.

She sat on what was the foundation of her childhood home, a patchy green piece of land dotted with brambles and tufts of grass. For a few long moments, the emptiness of the space muted her. It looked like an insignificant field of weeds and grass, seemingly mocking the immensity of her return and of everything that had happened here. Though it was still as beautiful as ever, there was nothing left of her past, other than the memories she held in her head and of course, there was still the great old Redwood.

It swayed and it creaked in the breeze as it always had. Like an old friend, it reminded her of what ‘still is’ and importantly, what came because of ‘what was and because of what happened.’

For a few blissful, heartfelt hours, Jene ‘danced’ in an open field with ‘then and now,’ and everything that she has become.

“Your journey has moulded you for your greater good, and it was exactly what it needed to be. Don’t think you’ve lost time. There is no short-cutting to life. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. And now is right on time.” – Asha Tyson

Walking the road of ‘acceptance.’

March 3, 2022July 27, 2024 / Lianne / Leave a comment

I went for a long walk today. I know the route well. I know every metre of it, I know how the water flows over the road and how every day I wet my shoes in order to get to the other side, how fish dart in all directions with every step I take. I know the long stretch of road across the dam wall, where the wind picks up and blows in the memories, with our river to my right and a silver expanse of water to my left. I hear the fish eagle in the distance and I see my loyal friend, the long crested eagle perched on the telephone pole, always there, always watching. I follow the road that follows the contour of the dam, around the corner and into a secluded valley, a valley bursting with Red hot Pokers and birdlife. Here I am alone but I am not. Here I am immersed in my deepest thoughts and here is where magic happens.

On this walk, sometimes I feel as if I could explode with hope and purpose, sometimes I get clarity, sometimes I feel fierce determination, sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh, sometimes my heart breaks. But today as I walked this road, I felt acceptance.

Right from the beginning, before I had even thought of starting Rosie Goes, I knew I’d be going on some sort of a journey, a journey of many roads with many twists and turns, stories and people from all walks of life and from whom I hope to learn from. There will be no free ride. I will walk this walk myself, I will ‘understand’ what I am exploring and I will feel every stone under my shoe, every bump along the road and I will write about it.

Today I felt what it means to accept something or to surrender to it. How before we can hope to start again, we must accept or surrender to where we are at or what is.

Today I learned how accepting something is not about ‘wanting’ something. I learned how acceptance can be letting go of what I’d like to happen for there to be something positive to happen, though not wanting it less or loving it less. To know that to continue as I am, at the expense of myself, of feeling that I am not being true to myself for the sake of a desired outcome, I lose who I am and what is important to me. And I get stuck. I have learned that with acceptance, there is no anger because it is no longer about something else or someone else or about something that happened or about what you don’t have anymore, but simply a deep knowing that you cannot continue as you are for you to feel at peace with yourself and to walk forward in harmony. I have learned that when I am aligned, I become unstuck.

Ironically the very first story that I will be writing about with the theme ‘to surrendering to what is before we can hope to move forward,’ is about someone who cannot walk. I will be writing about Jene Frost who was paralysed from the chest downwards at the age of 15 years old. Jene not only walked before her accident, she ran. She ran every day before school. It was her identity, it was her passion, it was her happy place, and it’s how she started her day. But in a matter of minutes, on a lazy social Sunday afternoon, Jene walked her last walk and the life she knew and the future she expected, was changed forever. This is a story about the power of ‘acceptance,’ when it comes to change and starting again, how a young women never let being paralysed stop her from moving forward.

The Dance

February 26, 2022July 27, 2024 / Lianne / Leave a comment

Today I left my clothes on the floor, the bed unmade and I drank from the milk carton. I burnt supper too.

I’m learning that ‘starting,’ does not simply involve pressing the ‘green button’ and moving forward. Instead it’s a dance. A dance that I’m still learning; one with some rather complex maneuvers and a dance in which I am wearing a pair of heels for the first time. It’s a dance that I move back and forth, I sidestep, I fall, I nosedive without a hint of grace and I twist my ankle, I kick my big toe and fall to the dusty dance floor in a great heap of self-pity.

But this is the difference. In my mind, there is no choice. I don’t get to stay on the floor like I once did. I must get up and do it again, and dance some more.

It’s easier said than done. This month I have fallen many times. I’ve felt the paralyzing heaviness of frustration, doubt, anxiety and overwhelm weigh me down, my thoughts pinning me to the floor and locking me in a place that I don’t want to be. The music that usually brings life to my soul, that makes me not only want to be upright and dancing to a melody, is barely audible. All I can hear are the loud and disruptive voices I don’t want to hear and that keep me stuck and from progressing with the process of starting.

Starting something new is a process. Before I can dance, I must learn ‘how to’ first. I must accept that learning to dance is most likely going to be an inelegant, imperfect process of ‘stopping and starting’ and of course, because I’m wearing heels while doing it! It’s a constant ‘to and fro’ between falling back on old habits and mindfully embracing new ways. It’s about recognising when the old narrative is at play and getting better at stopping it sooner than later. It also involves sparing some space for the ‘fall,’ being ‘okay’ with a clumsy and imperfect start, being patient with myself, being kind and learning to dance in a new pair of shoes!

It’s been a tough month and I have been a wreck! I’m going through a divorce and with that comes adjusting to a new way of life and stepping into a world I know little about. This month has been particularly challenging, mostly because it’s the end of year tax month and it’s been a very steep learning curve! It’s a strange dance; dancing between grand business plans, feeling passionate and motivated about what will come and then in the midst of being positively pumped up about ‘kick starting’ my future plans, I receive an email that states ‘it’s time to pay SARS the moolah’….and I put my pen down. My question is this? How on earth do I get creative when I am feeling so anxious?

This is something that I want to learn more about. How to manage anxiety? I have been so damn anxious this month and it’s crippling. All I know is that I cannot stay here. I must get better at this. I must continue to ‘start.’

“The chief beauty about time
is that you cannot waste it in advance.
The next year, the next day, the next hour are lying ready for you,
as perfect, as unspoiled,
as if you had never wasted or misapplied
a single moment in all your life.
You can turn over a new leaf every hour
if you choose.”
― **Arnold Bennett**

The journey of Rosie Goes is all about ‘learning and understanding our humanity and how it connects us,’ and right now I am at the very beginning of this journey. It’s ‘real’ and I know in my heart it is going to be one heck of a dance of ‘To and Fro.’ But in the build up to starting Rosie Goes, I have learned many things and I realise that part of my own personal challenge while on this journey, is to apply what I have learned to my life. And this I know will require mindfulness and discipline.

I have good days and bad days. I think it has been important for me to recognize ‘what’ pulls me out of a dark space. To give whatever that is my attention.

Sometimes the best thing for me to do is simply to have an early good night sleep and to put the day behind me, knowing that tomorrow is a blank page. It always seems to be better the next day. A break in the wave of anxiety, a deep breath…perspective again.

“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.”
― **Eckhart Tolle,** A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose

Having support has been crucial for me while ‘starting.’ I have a group of people in my in my life who have pulled me up many times, and often unknowingly, simply because they are there. And with this support that I have had and belief in what I want to do, I have learned the most powerful and uplifting lesson I could hope for, to feel gratitude.

I am often filled with a deep sense of gratitude – for what I do have, for the unconditional love and support from friends and family and importantly how I believe with all my heart, ‘that life is on my side’ and that I can trust it. Focusing on all this ‘positivity’ in my life does 2 things; firstly it helps me regain my perspective when I have temporarily lost it and secondly I believe that when I focus on ‘appreciating,’ it gains momentum, attracting more of whatever I am feeling and thinking. The trick, I think, is to surrender to what I am feeling; accept it and name it. Then unpack that fear or deconstruct it and identify how it is holding me back. That way, it loses its power over me and again, helps me regain perspective and pulls me back on track.

Part of my Rosie Goes journey has involved a series of extraordinary synchronicities, hence me believing that life is on my side. I pay careful attention to these synchronicities and treat them as confirmation and also a ‘clue’ as what to do next.

A few days ago I was explaining to my neighbour over a cup of morning coffee over the fence how I am writing about ‘starting again,’ and that I wanted to use ‘a dance’ as a metaphor for ‘starting something new’ in the way of photography. And it turned out that her client, a dancer and teacher of a dance school, was coming for a pedicure at 9am! When Chelsea agreed to do the dance photography shoot, I knew that the timing couldn’t be more perfect, and I took it as a synchronicity, as something that I should pay attention to and follow up on.

I believe that ‘life’ is listening. That day I needed to play loud jazz music on the third storey of an old maize mill and immerse myself in a creative shoot that embraced energy, passion for what we love to do, creativity and of course a metaphor for starting again. It was also the day Chelsea came for a pedicure!

This is Chelsea, teacher and owner of ‘Chelsea’s school of dance.’

For me it is exactly what I needed to do to help me regain my perspective.

‘Starting’ is a dance of To and Fro. We’re probably going to fall at some point and it won’t be pretty! But the question is, how long do you stay on the floor boards before you get up again and dance some more?

*“the end came first, the beginning came next”*
― **Tori G Doyle,** *She Loves Me Not: self love poetry with & without words*

Photography shoot location: Kings Grant Country Retreat, Ixopo, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa

Dancer: Chelsea Hayter, Owner of Chelsea’s school of Dance

Rosie Goes Photography©2022

Stuck in a story

February 2, 2022September 19, 2024 / Lianne / 1 Comment

It was quiet. Occasionally I’d hear the slow rhythmic footsteps of the night nurse and the swing of a ward door, the hushed voices between patient and nurse, a trolley being wheeled down the corridor, the ping of a microwave, a toilet being flushed. I felt relief for a short while, hoping it would stay like this.

But it never did. I lay still in the hospital bed, nodding off to the sound of hospital white noise when she’d wake again and cry out his name. It was in the darkness of the night when she felt most alone that she’d recede into the depths of her mind and her memories came to life. For a few minutes she was back on the ship on their way to Sydney, safely in his arms, wrapped up in young love and full of hope.

For three nights, I listened to her life story over and over again. I learned how love comforted her and I learned what she feared most. Every night, she lived through each chapter of her life, clinging to the fading memories as if it was all she had left. It was a story on repeat and it always ended with the agonising pain of remembering that he is dead.

At that moment, she’d be swallowed by grief and another narrative would move in like black ink spilled on a page, fear.

“Oh God, my husband is dead. He died 9 years ago.”

“I have nobody, they have all gone. I am all alone.”

“God please help me. God please help me. God please help me.”

“Why are they doing this to me? I have a plane to catch. Why are they being so unkind?”

“I can’t get out of bed, I can’t stand, I can’t walk. I can’t get out.”

“That was a stupid thing to do. Never again will I do this. Never again.”

As she delved deeper into this narrative, the more distressed and anxious she would get. It isolated her and held her hostage in a self-fulfilling prophecy. She was stuck in a story; a narrative that would taunt her and that would whisper in her ear in the hours of darkness. The more attention she gave it, the stronger it got until it screamed, “I am alone, I am alone, I am alone.” And she was alone.

For 3 days, I was with Mrs Harris (not her real name) in the same hospital ward. She suffered from Dementia and was in hospital because she had fallen and broken her hip. I listened to her story many times; tragic and beautiful all in one, ever tussling between love and fear. I learned a lot about Dementia during this time, but more so, this experience prompted me to question my own narrative.

What are my stories that play over and over again in my head? Is it a narrative ground in love or is it a narrative ground in fear? How and why did they begin? What do I not want to feel again because of something that had happened? What do I want to feel again? How do they influence how I live my life and the decisions I make? Do they hold me back? Do they keep me in a negative cycle? Do I keep hitting the same brick wall? Or are they positive narratives, ground in love and truth and that allow me to move forward and to grow?

The morning nurse marched through the ward doors, bright and breezy and ready to take on another day. Good morning Mrs Harris ‘How are you today?’

Mrs Harris groaned and pulled herself up and said, “I have a plane to catch. My husband is waiting for me in France. I must go now. Please help me out of bed, or else I will be late. You must listen to me. I must get to him. Please, help me.”

The nurse replied that she must have breakfast first and before turning to walk out of the room, she switched the television on for Mrs Harris to watch. It was the South African football news bulletin, reporting on the latest regional scores. She stared up at the screen, eyes glazing over as the ball was kicked here and there. And she remembered again, “No, he is gone. He died 9 years ago. I am all alone.”

I knew what I needed to do now.

I sat with her and I asked her about her husband and how they met and what their life was like. For the next half an hour, I heard the beautiful love story of Mr and Mrs Harris and how they met on a ship while travelling from England to Australia. I watched her clenched jaw relax and the muscles in her body soften as she spoke of their time together and of him.

I had heard this story many times by now, but every time she told her love story, I watched Mrs Harris come home.

Dear Narcissist. Thank you.

January 5, 2022September 19, 2024 / Lianne / Leave a comment

Today I am thanking the Narcissists. I did not want to give them too much attention in the previous post, in which I shared with you some of the journey I have been on these last couple years. In that post, I spoke of the lessons I have learned and the gratitude I have felt in the way of unconditional love and support and finding the courage to accept what is, what was and then ask myself ‘What do I want?’

But talking about my experience of narcissism is important and a big part of my journey. Because you, dear Narcissists’, came into my life just when you did. I had no idea you even existed before this. You came into my life when I already felt broken due to my own personal journey and because of the events at the time that came with immense loss and grief. Initially, I felt the timing of it was the ‘wrecking ball;’ the final chapter before my life as I knew it fell apart.

There are different levels of narcissism, ranging from someone severely egocentric in the way of self-importance and with an unwavering sense of entitlement, right through to the sociopathic narcissist. Sociopathic narcissistic behaviour, in my understanding, is when an individual deliberately and painstakingly exploits, fabricates and manipulates someone for their own gain with absolutely no remorse or empathy for anyone they have wronged. These individuals can be particularly dangerous, destructive and traumatic for the people they believe who stand in the way of their agenda, and for the actual individual they are seeking to control or punish.

Quite often, a narcissist will present themselves as charming, caring, upstanding, god-fearing people. Sometimes they present themselves as the ‘victim,’ and deliberately play to our human nature of instinctively wanting to support and protect the victim. They rally up an army of supporters, lawyers and flying monkey’s, who in essence, unknowingly enable their destructive and often ‘dark’ agenda.

I remember someone saying to me, ‘Just ignore them, don’t get involved.’ But if you are being targeted by one of these individuals, that is very difficult to do. Just like COVID-19, you cannot completely escape it, you must learn to live with it, identify it and manage it. We cannot indefinitely live in a state of fear or with the feeling of being under threat, if going forward with our life in a positive manner is our objection.

When it started, it was honestly one of the most confronting and threatening experiences I have ever had and it triggered me, that young girl who was bullied in her youth. My initial reaction was just that, I ‘reacted’… just as they want you to. Your reaction’ to being attacked will often be what they will attempt to use against you to gain support and to justify their accusations and their hidden agenda. They feed off your ‘reactions’ and the attention,’ like it’s a hit of heroin, creating one drama after another and bolstering their fragile and inflated ego, while furthering their agenda at the same time. They prod and provoke you in the most calculating of ways until you react, feeding their addiction and playing into their cycle of drama and sometimes, forgetting who you are in the process.

In hindsight, since identifying and educating myself about this type of abuse and the specific behaviour the narcissist will use to maintain a position of power and which almost always becomes a pattern over time, this experience has become one of the most empowering and valuable lessons I could hope for. In hindsight, its timing could not have been better.

A big part of my journey to transform my life is practicing being mindful of when the feelings I am having and the decisions I make are grounded in ‘fear and/or ego’ or whether they are from a place of ‘love or truth.’ How a reaction is most often ground in fear or ego opposed to a response which comes with being mindful of your emotions and consciously pausing before responding.

Having this experience when I did, was like the student learning the lesson in theory and then going out into the real world and putting the lesson to practice! This experience was the ultimate test of being mindful and less reactive. It was the ultimate lesson of knowing who I am and staying true to who I am; by setting boundaries, by keeping the ‘facts’ at the forefront, knowing what is true and what is not and recognising when I am being provoked, threatened or baited.

Since understanding all this and also through meeting a number of people who have experienced narcissistic relationships or like myself who has had encounters with such individuals, I have learned that there is one thing they all have in common despite each and every story being different. The ‘narcissist’ is the common factor. Narcissism has been given a label for a reason, because the same tactics and behaviours’ to throw you off balance and to control or punish you are demonstrated from one narc to another. That feeling of unease you have, or that something feels off, is not you imagining things. You are right.

Their tool kit to weaken you is a powerful one and is most destructive when you are not yet aware of what exactly is happening for you to be feeling like you do. You doubt yourself. You begin to believe that you are all to blame for the dysfunction in the relationship. Your support system, be it friends or family starts to change. One by one, the people who truly love and care for you are identified as a ‘threat’ or as someone negative for your relationship. You start to distance yourself from them so not to upset the narcissist in your life and because sometimes they convince you that their delusion in actual fact, is true. Over time, you are completely isolated from the people who care for you and the only person left in your lonely life, is the Narcissist them self…and they become your ‘everything.’ You begin to feel ‘less’ and the confidence and joy you once felt, is replaced by a new reality, of walking on egg shells and focusing completely on them and their needs and never your own.

In the worst cases, these dysfunctional relationships can leave you feeling like a shell of your former self and with a deep sense of hopelessness. Sometimes there are children involved and who are employed in the mind games and become a means of punishment when you do not do as they want.

So much of what a narcissist does, comes from a place of fear and ego. When you know this about them, when you see them for where they are in themselves, and not what they want you to believe about yourself and about them, or fear – that’s when you begin to empower yourself. That’s when you remember who you are and not who they think you are.

How 2020 and 2021 are the years I ‘surrendered to’ for there to be change.

January 1, 2022September 19, 2024 / Lianne / Leave a comment

There is one thing I learned in 2019: Life does not necessarily change with a new year. But it is a time that we stop and reflect on the year we have just had. We label it. It was either a good year or a bad year.

I’m going back to 2019 because for me, that was that year that was fit for a label – a particularly bad year after a series of bad years! And it never stopped. It kept on going on into the New Year, into 2020 and gaining momentum. I remember thinking, ‘Is this it?’ Is this what my life is? The feeling of being on a hamster wheel, going nowhere frantically and not knowing how to get off it. Life had lost its depth and the way I was living it, did not feel meaningful or fulfilling. I was committed to so many things, leaving no time for what really mattered to me or what I really wanted to do with my life and my time. I put what I felt people expected of me above this and I lost myself in a series of years. A series of years that never got better and that felt consistently ‘off-track.’

Then COVID-19 happened and life as we knew it stopped. We all stopped. Initially we focused on how to sanitise best, we followed the COVID-19 rules, wore masks and kept our distance. We isolated from the life we knew and we were given ‘time.’ For some, this isolation was traumatic and lonely. For me, it was the first time since I had moved back to South Africa that I felt there was time to think, time to reflect and time to sit quietly with myself. For me, it felt like a blessing.

2020 was the year that completely smashed the hamster wheel. It was also the year I decided that I did not want to get back on that hamster wheel. I wanted to walk around in my own shoes and feel at ‘home.’ For me, 2020 was that year that I found the courage to change and to choose a different life, one with depth and though scary at times, feels meaningful and with a purpose that is aligned with who I am and what is important to me. It was the year that I stepped out of the box I had created and into the big wide world!

It was a difficult year, because before I could think of the change I want, I first had to surrender to where I was at. I had to face everything I had become and take responsibility for myself. I had to stop blaming others for my unhappiness and accept that I was not going to change anyone and that the only change that could happen, was within myself. I had to revisit my past and the narrative I created because of it, one that has influenced so much of my life, my relationships and the decisions I have made. I had to identify what is true and what is not and sift through my limiting beliefs. I had to let go of wanting to control in order to achieve a certain outcome. I had to identify when my decisions and priorities were ground in ‘fear and ego,’ opposed to what comes from a place of love and truth. I had to stop fighting and instead ‘surrender’ to what is and what was. I had to accept where I am and take responsibility. Only then could I ask myself, ‘what do I want?’ And I did. 2020 was the year I surrendered and also the year I asked myself those questions and made the decision to change my life. In doing so, I would also change the life of those closest to me, especially for my family.

2021 came with the shocking and most unexpected news that my husband and I would be getting divorced. It was shocking, because I am divorcing a good man and because no-one really knew of my personal journey. I had eluded everyone. I smiled when I was not feeling it. I put my armour on, and presented myself as strong when I was not feeling strong.

2021 was the year of implementing change. It was always going to be a difficult year but I am hesitant to kick it in the butt and say ‘good riddance.’ 2021 and the change I implemented came with many BIG life lessons. It required courage, it required being okay with being judged and not allowing the fear of not being accepted to influence my decisions, it required me walking my own path with my head up. It required me not to conform and to believe in myself and my vision.

“Live the life of your dreams: Be brave enough to live the life of your dreams according to your vision and purpose instead of the expectations and opinions of others.” – Roy T Bennet

2021 was certainly not easy and I know that the months to come will continue to be challenging for me and my family because of my decision. I know that the life I am choosing is not a conventional one and more often than not, it is a life that people would not choose for themselves.

Though 2021 has been difficult, it is the year that I have felt ‘peace’ for the first time since I can remember. It is also the first time in my life that I have truly felt gratitude. Because of my decision which has come with much ‘debate’ by others of what is wrong and what is right, I did not expect you to ‘stay,’ but you did. 2021 is when I received the unexpected unconditional love and support from a handful of extraordinary friends and my family too. I have learned that ‘support,’ does not necessarily mean ‘agreeing with,’ but rather the willingness to try and understand, the decision to be open to understanding and less about what you would do or would not do. Wanting to ‘understand’ does not just happen – it is most often a conscious decision. THAT is my BIGGEST lesson and my biggest reason for feeling gratitude. Gratitude for the people who have wanted to understand and who have supported and loved me unconditionally. Gratitude for this lesson too and how I am going to work very hard to do what these people in my life have taught me; Seek to understand.

2021 was the year that I found myself walking down a district road to my parents, 43 years old and with a plastic Shoprite packet full of laundry… with nothing. On that day, I faced my decisions. That day, I had no-one to blame, no-one to point fingers at because this is my decision. That day, I walked down the road I had chosen and I felt happy.

**May 2022 be the new beginning that brings peace, purpose, growth and joy.**

The night I surrendered to what is.

November 25, 2021July 27, 2024 / Lianne / Leave a comment

2. The works of Being Human/Surrender

I walked. A veld fire had ripped through the bushveld, devouring everything in its path. The night was closing in and all that was left were the rocks and the smoldering skeletons of trees standing in defiance.

It was the darkest night yet and I was lost. The usual winter starry sky was eclipsed by a thick layer of mist and smoke, obscuring the path I knew so well. I was a stranger in my own land and nothing felt familiar.

The silence was deafening. The jackal, rabbits and caracal had moved off and even the crickets could not muster up enough energy to sing their song. A sense of nothingness overcame me. I let go. I let everything that is, be. In that moment, I had no past or knew no future, just the ghostly silence of a moment, a blank page void of ink, a map of nowhere.

I surrendered. The fight in me was gone and all that I felt mattered, mattered no more. It did not matter at that point because I had had a change of heart or that something had happened to me that made me realise what is important and what is not, but rather I’d lost all my strength to fight and to hold onto fear. Suddenly the fear of rejection, the fear of being judged, the fear of not being accepted, the fear of losing control, the fear of being misunderstood had all become too big for me to hold on to. Too big and too inauthentic to survive. I had unintentionally let go of my fears and surrendered to the darkness. I was alone, broken and free of the shackles of fear.

It was a long night. I stopped walking. This well-worn path I had used so often was barely visible and increasingly futile as the night curtain rolled down. It was not taking me to where I truly wanted to go. It was a winding path, walked by many but not my own. I succumbed to being lost and found a comfortable rock, curved and smooth in the centre, a rock I could sit down on and sink into.

Cradled in that rock, the night consumed me. Memories and emotions took hold of me and for the first time, I did not resist any of it. I felt it all; grief, pain, anger, rejection, resentment, conflict and aloneness. I felt everything I had not wanted to and on that dark, relentless, all consuming lonely night, I completely surrendered to what what was and what is. And it was a relief to feel my pain.

Rosie Goes

In pursuit of humanKIND

Author: Lianne