“So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.”
Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
“How was your holiday in SA?” I asked, excited to hear how much our friend had enjoyed his visit to my homeland in December.
“South Africa is really in a bit of a mess,” he replied. Note, that in British English, a ‘bit of a mess’ is basically a large scale disaster.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Nothing works. The Eskom situation is depressing. Most people I spoke to just want to get out of there.”
He seemed to be satisfied that he’d given me the final word. Continue reading It’s not all bad!
“If you can look into the seeds of time. And say which grain will grow and which will not; Speak, then, to me.”
Macbeth by William Shakespeare
“I believe we can rule out anything sinister,” said the radiologist. “Only … there is something rather unusual.”
I wiped the gel off my neck and sat up.
“You have right-sided hemiagenesis of the thyroid.”
I leaned in to get a closer look at the ultrasound screen. Continue reading 2018, tell me all your secrets
“What is courage?
As Ordinary discovered, courage is not the absence of fear; rather, it’s choosing to act in spite of the fear. You could say that without fear, you can’t have genuine courage.”
The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson
I come from a running family. My father, uncle, brother, mother, sister and many cousins run – some are serious runners, tackling marathons and off-road trail runs, some dabble in short and medium distance running. For my family, running has always been the best way to a sense of achievement in fitness, a good sweat and an endorphin injection. Continue reading Lessons from Eddie the Eagle who never gave up
“If he could have died – like Nelson – in the hour of victory! Would it not have been better for him – happier for me? Often I thought so. For to fade slowly away; to lose his strength and fire and intelligence; to outlive his character, and no longer be himself! No, that could not be happiness!”
Jock of the Bushveld by Percy Fitzpatrick
I’ve finally finished reading Jock of the Bushveld. It was sometimes gripping, sometimes sad, and oftentimes hard going with antiquated, somewhat ungrammatical phrasing akin to the writing of it’s time – published in 1907. And an unnecessary over use of exclamation marks. It was a story I felt I knew well from having seen the film as a child and from Johnny Clegg’s ‘Great Heart’ music video and also in legend. Jock, in South African culture, is a legend of a dog and the stories of his conquests in the bushveld are told over and over again – how many dogs have since been named Jock? Continue reading Little did she know
(Referring to the perfect little ‘handbag’ dogs in Boca Raton, Florida) “They were petite, sophisticated and of discriminating taste. Marley was big, clunky and a sniffer of genitalia.”
“Marley had earned his place in our family. Like a quirky but beloved uncle, he was what he was. He would never be Lassie or Benji or Old Yeller. We accepted him for the dog he was, and loved him all the more for it. “You old geezer,” I said to him on the side of the road that late-winter day, scrubbing his neck. Our goal, the cemetery, was still a steep climb ahead. But just as in life, I was figuring out, the destination was less important than the journey.”
Marley and Me by John Grogan
This book, Marley and Me (and the film,) snuck up on me from behind, and got to me when my guard was down. The film is light hearted, ‘feel good’ and predictable, but when I watched some years ago and again recently, I fell for every line – both my heart and my tear ducts annoyingly reacted exactly on cue.
So why did I read the book this last week as well? Continue reading New Seasons and managing change
“Cords of saliva would collect on her lips; she would draw them in, then open her mouth again. Her mouth seemed to have a private existence of its own. It worked separate and apart from the rest of her, out and in, like a clam hole at low tide. Occasionally it would say, “Pt,” like some viscous substance coming to a boil.”
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Tuesday’s 1st September inspiration: a beautiful description from a novel which blew me away with its beauty at the time of reading it as a teenager, and still does. Some of my readers will know that part of the reason I write a weekly blog (occasionally more frequently) is because I want to live my life with purpose, on purpose, reflecting on life’s ups and downs and to be accountable. A little Birdie, my Hubby, my writer sister and my faith inspired me to start.
The other reason is because they say that if you want to call yourself a writer you need to write every day. Nyamazela.com accounts for 1 or 2 days a week. Continue reading 1st September