Wednesday, January 28, 2015

I've come to the conclusion that skinny people travel well.

First of all, do you even sweat? No, why, because in the middle of a South African summer you can wear short shorts to the airport with a barely covered midriff and look fantastic. Well guess what? Some of us travel for work and yes, we sweat, we look frumpy and at the end of the day catching a redeye to another city we know better than the GPS, that’s definitely wine you smell, because we just drank all the free wine. And we’re late, always late. Why arnt there boarding notices in the airport lounges? You free wine giving devils.

I left the house this morning wearing fashion. I arrived back at the house looking like a Mr Price Sale. Why? Because there is NO WAY to travel in style.

Once I tried to wear heels to work, work being in Cape Town and home being Joburg. I had seen it being done by at a thousand commuter models in the last week, so I tried it.

1x taxi ride, 1x long ass haul your bag down the Gautrain escalators, 1x km walk to the check in desk, OBVIOUSLY boarding at the last gate in the airport and walking down that gawd awful ramp to the plane that makes your toes curl to support your poorly chosen attire, 3x apologies whilst plumping into your window seat later, whilst 1x eye murdering the bitch next to you whose heels are 5cm higher than yours but clearly had botox in her forhead as a sweat bead hasn’t broken in years you realise… she’s a 1x robot.

How can I not get this right? Ive flown more than Miley Cyrus’ private jet, yet when it comes to the security queue I can’t get my laptop/s out fast enough. The first bit of travel anxiety starts to tickling down my back and it’s settled, No matter how prepared I am the pressure you other travellers give with your beady eyes as “Amateur” drains across your face, give us, other well seasoned travellers enough to put me off travelling for life. I want to float, I want to be that girl that looks like she travels, but I feel like I am that girl that looks like she left the farm for the first time.

Do you do a pre-flight prayer? You know the one that as you start to queue after the 5 minutes of boarding calling, you start to survey the “manscape”.. At this point I’ve lost a bag to the air trolley, so I start to feel nimble and light. It’s at that moment I begin…
“Dear God, Please may I sit next to the most attractive man on this plane, see the one I’m looking at, yes, him, no, no not him, HIM, but if you’re paying more attention to saving cats on roof tops I understand, you are God BUT if you can’t get me next to him, please, please may the person be mute. A skinny mute. A skinny mute with no arms or legs, that hasn’t eaten anything gassy and is poor so he can’t enjoy the cash bar….Thanks.”

It bring me to this reason I am writing this rant. Not for the lack of my travel skills but for the love of ALL THINGS unpleasant. I am unfortunately writing this whilst post pre-flight prayer in between two of the most disgustingly gross humans I have ever come across. (A friend of mine posted last week that people that travel often would never get the middle seat, well my luck, and organisational skills, properly ran out this time). Whilst burping ALL the free food they consumed before the flight, “is that chicken?” I decided to write about my 1000 thoughts of how badly I travel. AND sincerely hoping that the two Shrek’s beside me are reading this and respect little humans like me to leave the food alone! Oh God, the guy on my left just ordered a beer. Sweet baby potatoes, my eyes are starting to water.

As I left the plane walking at a seriously “get me off this damn air-bus” pace, I hear a small but obviously male voice behind me.

Tiny voice man: “Miss, miss, sorry miss”
I will not turn around. I am done here. Whatever you found of mine, you can keep it. 
Me: “Oh, hi.”
It’s one of those beer consuming, small people crushing, silent burpers. 
Tiny voice man: “Sorry Miss, are you a journalist?”
Me: “No. I just like to write.”
Tiny voice man: “Do you write for anyone public?”
Seriously? This dude.
Me: “ Yes, I have a blog.”
Tiny voice man: “Oh.”
Giving a small smile, I depart this conversation.
And then…
Tiny voice man: “I’m really sorry, it’s been a long day. I didnt mean to you, you know, make you uncomfortable.”
For the love of all things, I become a human again. 
Me: “It’s ok, neither did I”

As I walked to the train, I couldn’t help but think… I’m not the worst traveller in the world.

*Air Punch!*

Tuesday, January 20, 2015


I don’t think there is anything better than waking up next to someone and feeling that first emotion of a smile. Knowing that this person you wake up next to is a better half of you than you even know. For 3 years I’ve been waking up next to me. I greet myself with a smile and know that today, today it’s me with the world.

This is a little memo to myself, so bare with me as I kick my own ass into touch for the next 500 words.

Kiddo, when will you learn that you are allowed to make bad decisions? You are allowed to fuck up. Simple. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be that girl that has created a path of infinite adventurous opportunities that get you out of bed every morning. If you broke it, you sure bought it but let that souvenir remind you that, you should not do it again. So stop. Respect yourself to let things go that don’t make you happy, and if by some divine luck you’re able to change that, then trust your gut to know that you’re not pulling the wool over your own eyes.

Find routine. You’re not superman. You need to know when to stop and let the air touch your face. So get out of bed god dammit, 6am is when some people start work, and you should find that time as yours. Be quiet and be still, reflect on the day that’s about to embrace you and then, get your growing butt into gym. Sweat it out and feel that burn, you know how good you feel when you walk out of that muscle infested space. You feel alive. Give that to yourself - there is only one you. And I’d prefer it if you had a hot ass. Thanks.

My love, it’s time to get rid of the bad relationships in your life. You don’t deserve to suffer for the sake of someone else’s lack of vision. You will never be able to change them, they’re selfishly intertwined in their own life and the reason they keep taking you down with them is because you allow them. Stop this, it’s ruining you. You deserve a team mate, not an opposition. You deserve a best friend with a great penis, not an asshole with the right moves. You deserve someone that wants to be with you, every minute, not the guy that finds you 20 people down his WhatsApp list. Please be kind to your heart, and ditch the frown that once had a smile. When you laugh you make the world a happier place, I want to hear it more often.

Stop spending money on memories that last an hour. Start spending your money on memories that you can look back on as life experience. It’s silly really. Ok, maybe you do need a new pair of heels, but that’s because you live in Joburg and heels look good on you and when you look good, you are happy. Spend a little money on happiness. But put some away too, you’re healthy kid but you might not always be so, just think ahead.

Learn to prioritise your friendships. You have such a wonderful gift of making new friends, start following up with them. You have no reason to feel lonely. Check that contact list, gurl you got a lot of friends in there that may not be thinking about you all the time but sure would love to hear about your life in excuse for a glass of wine. We’re all just as scared of each other - break that ice and pour him/her another one.

And lastly, love your family. Yes, they’re a bunch of hooligans and yes, they’re not perfect. But nobody has a perfect family. You didn’t turn out too badly so they must have done something right. Call your Dad. Often. He’s not going to call you, remember you left, you need to keep him in the loop. He’s not around forever babe, he needs you, even for a laugh it’s reminding you where you came from. Get that head back down to earth please.

So Miss AdailyJem, You think you heard what I have to say this time? Live a life that makes you feel alive, the minute you start to doubt a decision, get the hell up and run. Run into the arms of a handsome stranger, and only let go when you feel you can feel that head of ours rationalise a dodgy situation. You’ve got this, we’ve got this. Now wake up!

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Give it a Year - Day 336

Three hundred and sixty-five days of living in Johannesburg is almost here, dear friends. And what better time than any, I get a mail from a friend in Durban asking me what it’s been like thus far. From what I can tell she’s braving the move, so to help her out I thought a little summary of my year would be a perfect opportunity to unblock this writers stall and indulge her and enlighten you to a city I will now call home for yet another three hundred and sixty-five days. 

So here goes…

She says in her mail “ I know you grew a very large pair of testicles and made the move.” I don’t think it was ever about “growing a pair” It was more about outgrowing Durban. The opportunities to make a life in Durban became harder. The thought patterns became a saturated circle of the same ideas, same people and I felt less and less motivated to follow a dream. Weekends became the same activities all surrounded by the ocean, getting a tan (well, not in your case Angie) having a braai and watching the rugga. Driving out to the midlands, or taking a costal trip got harder, as again, the motivation in our twenty-something brains felt more comfort, stagnated and drained from fighting in the same pool in the office every week. My move came from a pull of something different, and push away from the same old. It definitely wasn’t about growing a pair, it was just about growing. 

I remember driving away from Durban for the first time, the further I got, the looser the noose around my comfort strings got. It was like Durban let me go, and as I neared the big smoke I felt a pull unlike any. She (Johannesburg) in all her wintery smog engulfed me into the type of welcoming hug you experience from a friend that you havnt seen in a very long time. My nostrils burnt from the dryness, and my eyes tried to adjust to the initial ugliness she is. Winter is not a good look on her. But as I cornered into my new home I was surprised at the beauty she has hidden. 

Johannesburg is about diversity, it’s the people that make the city. At first glance I get why we are drilled from afar of why it’s such a shitty place to live. All you see when we set the stage are actors that play on crime, cold and a money making propaganda of no use to the twenty-something creatives that are all shipped to Cape Town to fall into self expression. Listen here, Joburg is self expression. I look at the city and there is not one neighbourhood that isn’t created by it’s community.  It’s more alive than any city I have been in, it’s more real and exactly where any dream is created and guess what? Where all dreams are actually followed through. It's not a forever place, but the place we all need to start with.

Making friends with Joburg is a tad harder than making friends with it’s people. A ring full of roads with the closest place of convenience just, “20 minutes away”, for a Durbanite this was the first bit of “Wow, this city is big!” and “Down the road can’t possibly be the difference between Kloof and Durban central, because that’s a day trip, right?". My faith became my GPS as landmarks move quicker than the night (Joburg’s infrastructure is an evolutionary project, buildings go up and buildings come down. It’s a man made battle to win the sky, so nothing is the same for very long.) and difference between the M1 and N1 is the difference between getting home at night or “you’re lost, you might as well park and take the train.” 
It’s, to say it bluntly, scary learning the curves in her structure. But once you get it, it’s like conquering the moon. Back roads, ain’t nothing but a thang, (unless you venture North then I can’t help you, Fourways and I still havnt become friends). 

The weather? Jozi’s winter is harsh. It comes with no warning and you are left bone cold and grasping for moisture. The farce of the sun is just there to comfort you and let you know that summer still exists, somewhere. The fashion options are just layers of fun, knits, boots and scarves for days, which makes it bareable and sparks new excitement into the frosty air. Then Spring, my most favourite season in this city arrives, butterfly swarms decorate the streets like spring snowflakes, it’s awakening and magical. Onto summer storms, loud enough to deafen a deaf man and like clock work at 5pm they come and they go leaving you with rainbows, and sunsets that welcome you home after a long day. 
It’s the nature of Joburg to pull you into a work drive that at times makes you want to die and then lift your spirits so high in it’s natural beauty that makes it all ok. The intensity of it’s pace becomes a drug, in all aspects. 

So did I find it easy to make friends? I don’t think I have ever had a problem making friends, but in this city, the people are warm, we only really have each other and because of the diversity in it’s culture everyone is looking for a new lunch date, a new dancing buddy or someone to call for a sneaky glass of wine on a Sunday afternoon. And the most bizarre thing is that when you meet someone at a bar, and exchange numbers.. they actually call! The people of Joburg want to get to know you, I have a ridiculously diversity in my friends, from Jews, to Greeks, Polish, English, German and Bulgarians.. cliques don’t exist here. So it’s best to leave your apprehensions elsewhere. We’re open, everyday. 

I feel like I could go one about the greatness here, I could go on for days, but I can’t tell you that you are going to be right for Joburg, I honestly think it’s like an arranged marriage. You aren’t really sure about her in the beginning but over time you can’t help but fall so deeply in love with her that living anywhere else could not match up to what she has to offer. 

So on that note Angie: I would take the leap, it’s only 550kms from “home” and if you don’t like it, go home. But give it time. Live the four seasons with open arms and embrace a new adventure. As a creative there is no better place than here. And I am here. 

Ah friends, I can't wait to move into my new home in a week and start all over again, in my new neighbourhood, in the same city and for the millionth time see it with completely different eyes. 

Monday, March 24, 2014

I need YOUR help - Day 246

I’ve never been victim of crime but what happened to me on Tuesday 18th March at 9.48pm at the onramp from Rivonia Road (heading East on the N1) was a pure act of corruption, one which left me raging and albeit extremely shaken up. The Johannesburg Metro Police Department needs to wake up to the existence of corrupt employees within their ranks. It is just not good enough that a lone female cannot drive around at night and fear for her safety, especially from those who are in charge of her safety and overall well-being.

I am writing this not only to make you aware, but for you to use as an official statement in order to escalate this matter. I’ve had enough, and I am sure there are a lot of women out there that feel the same but do not have the voice to do anything about it.

9.48pm – I had just left work after a long night and day of creative brainstorming for a presentation we had to give the next day. My brain is shattered as this is the third consecutive night I am leaving work late. All I want to do is get home, home being twenty minutes from the office, via the N1 and onto the M1 towards Norwood.

I had decided to phone a friend as I am leaving - I needed a familiar voice and someone to offload the daily happenings too, as my phone starts to ring through my car radio system - *Note: it’s completely handsfree - I had looked around the corner and a policeman had his hands out to pull me over. I hang up and follow his prompts.

There are 2 other policemen standing by, one which has just pulled over a bottle green new Opel Astra in front of me, the other standing behind my car. The officer who pulled me over (perpetrator) had summoned me to wind down my window. The policeman is about 6ft tall, he’s wearing his beige, what I can tell are normal uniform pants, no hat and he is very light in colour. He is quite built, borderline chubby but definitely someone I wouldn’t mess with. One thing I do remember is that he had a soft face, maybe this is why my fear stayed at bay throughout the entire situation.

As I roll down my window he immediately told me that talking on my phone was a R500 fine. I politely told him that I was not talking on my phone and that it is coming through my car radio and that it is a handsfree set. I then told him that I did not have any cash on me, which in hindsight is admitting a crime. At this point he was leaning through my window and looking into my car. I am wearing a dress, and his next comment completely throws me. “You have very sexy legs”. I replied with a “Thank you” and ask him if I could go. He then, completely ignored me. He had started to ask me where I am from, which I reply Durban (My car has an NU numberplate) and where I am travelling too. I said that I am on my way home to Melrose.

The questions start to get more intimate:

Policeman: “Do you live alone?”
Me: “No”
Policeman: “Do you have a husband?”
Me: “No”
Policeman: “Why not?”
Me: (thinking in my head, that is a good question) but I reply with a blunt, “I don’t have time”

At this point he asked me for my license which I suddenly realised was in my wallet and I did not want him to see that I indeed had money. But I could not let him see it, as I refused to bribe my way out of this situation. I opened my wallet and slowly start to fish for my license, I had finally found it, which by this stage, he had begun stroking my arm. My entire being wanted to punch him in the face, but calmly I let him carry on. I handed him my license. He stepped away from my window, read it and gave it back.

He then starts the mandatory walk around the car situation, stops at my registration disk, where he pointed at it and walked back to my window.
He told me to get out, which I again reply, “No.”

Policeman: “Your license (disk) has expired”

Completely aware of this I had stated that I still had a month to go before he can legally accuse me. I had also explained that I am from Durban, which meant that registration renewals (as I have learnt) can only be done in the city of your number plate, so A.) It is impossible for me to do this until I get back to Durban and B.) His point was completely null in void, as asking me to get out the car is illegal. Upon my refusal to exit my vehicle, perpetrator (the very same Johannesburg Metro Police Officer) upped my fine to R1500.00. At this stage, I once again replied that I did not have cash on me.

What happened next is still unbelievable – especially a Johannesburg Metro Police Officer of the law, one who behaved in a sexual, opportunistic manner, just blows my mind.

He walked back towards my open window, grabbed his package (genitals) and shakes it in my face.

Policeman: “Look at me, look how horny I am, don’t you want to take me home?”

At this point, looking back at this moment, I am unable to understand how I kept such a calm demeanour. This was blatant sexual harassment.

He carried on, now at this point with both hands LITERALLY trying to shove his hard-on (erection) in my face through my window.

Policeman: “Just LOOK at me baby, look how horny I am. I haven’t had sex in months, can’t you help me?”

Me: “Look I am really tired, and I just want to go home. I am sorry, you are an officer of the law, please can I go?”

At that moment, I had stared straight ahead - my whole body felt numb. From this point I must have completely blanked out as the next thing I remember is him standing back, walking to opposite pavement, leaning over and tying his shoelace.

I think it took me a while to click back into “Drive!” mode, but when I realised I was free, I did not look back.

The shock must have caught up with me at that moment, as I just burst into tears and cried hysterically all the way home - I cannot remember that drive.

Listen, I am an incredibly strong woman, and have the knack of talking myself out of many situations, but in a situation like this there is only so much strength one can muster. If I had reacted, what would have been the outcome? If I had gotten out the car with absolute no sense, what would have been the outcome?
There are woman out there who would have made that situation a lot worse, especially when lacking such composure. It is not good enough that someone who is there to check that we are safe, and do his job, takes the liberty to exploit a lone woman driver. Especially for sexual opportunities.

Last night I got pulled over again, as I saw the flashing lights of an all familiar torch, my entire being froze. I was NOT ready to go through this again. However, the policeman that had pull me over was incredibly helpful and as soon as he saw I was a woman told me to drive on and get home safely. He even noticed my number plate and has asked me if I knew how to get to where I was going.

I need to say that even though I have been through this experience, it is not something that is going to leave me. BUT I do not believe that every policeman is like this, but what about that 1/100 that is? Why should I relive this fear every time I get pulled over? It’s just not acceptable.

I plan to take matters further and bring this type of behavior to the light that is justice. But I need your help. I know this is not the first time this has happened to a single lady so I need your stories. Please send any information of this type of behaviour to me as I am compiling a blog WITH COMPLETE anonymity of our stories. It is the first step that I can take to create some sort of movement. Some of you may not think that this is of any use, but I have a voice and I plan to use it with my incredible support behind me (and Social Media networks). We need to create awareness which will hopefully transpire into safer roads for single woman to drive on.

Please send any experiences of this matter to: Jemma@socialbrand.co.za

As I have stated, absolutely everything that is published will be completely anonymous. I am prepared to put my name out there on your behalf. I need a base in which to present in court and unfortunately my experience alone is not enough to warrant an actual investigation.

Keep safe ladies, and please remember never to be the hero. If you are uncomfortable in any situation, ask the police officer to follow you to the nearest police station.

NOTE: I am specifically looking at your experiences in the greater Johannesburg area at this moment. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

One, Two, Twee - Day 205

Well hello humans, big and small. How are you feeling about this looming day of acknowledging this lack of love in your life? Fear not, I have a plan. A plan so devious that it will knock sadness right out of your hearts and replace it with fluttering feelings only a first love can resurface.

It might seem hard at first, but if you trust me, the fourteenth day of the second month will forever be transformed as the day you truly felt an overwhelming love for yourself. "Ahhh..", you say, "this girl is trying to get me to forget how badly I want a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. That the tears on my pillow will only dry up when I receive my special delivery of red petals. Dear silly girl writing this, how am I supposed to forget a day so commercially driven by needing love, by simply just loving myself?"

Just like you, I have had my heart tickled like a puppies tummy and boy, did it feel good. It's also been abandoned, bruised, terrified and broken. Yet somehow, over time all I can seem to remember are the good feelings. I look not longingly at couples walking down the street engrossed in their fluttery feelings but stare more at the wonder of "I've had that".

Like soppy, sunlight soap this post is probably making you feel like I am about to tell you to do a chore. Ha ha! Surprise!

I am.

Here's what I need you to do this Valenshmimes day, in no particular order (just do it ok?):

1. Wake up with the sun. 
A new day is born every. single. day. You don't see the Sun going, "Oh well nobody loves me therefore I shan't shine upon you earthlings." The sun rises, it shines and it spreads joy on every soul it touches. This is your first mission. Show a little shine on someone that needs it.

2. Put some spark on that dial.
Get up, get dressed, put on your most "you" outfit. Crank that music up and dance around the house like a mad woman. Wiggle that bum until the pure dorkiness makes you giggle to the floor. Happy humans are hard to break. Believeeeedat!

3. Prepare a love breakfast
Forget the diet, bring out the strawberries, dollop on that Marscopone, spread the syrup and flip those flapjacks! If your kitchen is in a state of unrelentless repair, take a walk down to your favourite restaurant. Ask for a table for one. Reassure the waiter, that yes, it's a table for O-N-E. Order indulgently. Breath in the solo time and think only happy thoughts. It's about time you took yourself on a date.

4. Compliments count
When we are bursting with joy we can't help but spread the love. Pick up that phone, call your gran, call a crush and wish him a happy day. That's all. A simple hearty gesture. (lol)

5. Flowers are for all occasions 
I say red roses are just ridiculous. The mark up on the price of petals just because it happens to be a commercially driven day is outrageous. I like daffodils anyhow. Buy yourself some flowers and place them where you can admire them, and if someone asks… "My secret admirer gave them to me, myself."

6. It's wine time. 
Pick a handful of people that mean the most to you, the ones that fill you with joy. Invite them over to your house and pop open that bottle of bubbly. It's time to celebrate being the most awesome and unique individuals that you are. Your task for the evening: Go around the room and say one thing about each other that you love the most. Queue the giggles and enjoy the reminiscence of being you.

I am a big advocate of self love. It's the simplest but hardest thing to get right in our existence. God knows it's taken me years! This simple to-do list is pretty much my checklist for everyday, yes there are days I need to work harder at it (like said day) but it's become such a way of life for me now that I can honestly say I truly love every inch of who I am.

So tell me, how can you celebrate being you this Valentines day? And if you are snuggled tight to an other half, (you lucky little human you) how can you show them that, you, this human sitting next to him, is pretty much the most awesome being he'll ever meet?

Go fourth and spread love. All, over, your, self.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Dear Future Husband - Day 177

Dear Future Husband, 

It's a Tuesday. The sun is shining down on the Joburg streets just as it so lovingly does every day in the summer. In the distance, just as you may be, a storm is rumbling softly. Awaiting it's perfect entrance to cool down the souls of the city. The year is 2014 and just as the year is starting to awaken to the possibilities of the next 351 days, so am I. 

I am not quite sure if this is the year I will meet you, but it's definitely a year I am preparing to let you in. My excitement of finally being ready to shake your hand, randomly bump into you, or steal your smile in a passing isle is overwhelming. I hope you will hear me laugh and run, (kidding), come looking for me, or offer to carry my bags as the effort of carrying them myself will seem too much of a task to let me. It's this random moment of connection that we have to meet. Any other way will ruin the perfect movie moment I have planned for us.

I know the first time we'll hold hands will be an awkward moment. The sweaty palm on palm scenario is a realistic one. You'll accidentally offer me a low five and I'll mistaken it for a "let's hold hands" moment. I think I will like that the most. Because you see, on reflection, you'll like that the most.

I don't want to plan our first kiss or even think about our first intimate moment, as that could go either way. I could hate it, it could be a fumbling disaster with an awkward silence to deafen the dead. And then I would have no option but to call you my Future Ex Husband.

However, before any intimacy happens, I cannot wait to go on an adventure with you. A week long road trip where the only sound is my singing voice softly blowing away in the wind. (Which you will softly thank the wind for blowing away). I cannot wait to climb mountains and discover new nooks in hidden highvelds. Run naked in the moonlight and cuddle under the stars to the backdrop of that movie soundtrack we once hated.

Can you imagine the first time I will say "I love you"? You'll probably mistaken it for a cough or not even notice as I will tell you in your sleep. I'll hide the fact that I am hopelessly devoted to you until I experience a moment of fear as we bungee off the Victoria Falls bridge. Then I doubt you'll ever be able to unhear it. 

So just to clear some things up, before my friends get a hold of my reputation, there are 5 things you need to know before you ask me to be your wife. 
1. I hate it when you order the same food as me. How am I suppose to steal some off your plate?
2. Even though I have quit smoking, I'll sneak a puff in the park when I walk the dogs and deny every moment as I walk into the house smelling like a perfume stand.
3. I'm writing this because secretly I hope I have already met you and this is just a heads up before I go all "I love you" on your ass. 
4. I really like it when you take the rubbish out.
5. I have never, ever, lied about being in a relationship. Not even that one time I got free drinks at that bar you thought I didn't go to.

Totally kidding about number 3. 

Future Husband all I ask is that you be kind, that you treat me with more respect than your mother. That you love me unconditionally, not everyday but most days. I hope we fight and disagree but always keep our values on the same path. Please give our kids the best possible advice and enjoy your life with me. I ask that you see me not as your wife, but your best friend. The other half of the avocado you wish you hadn't eaten. And if for any reason you want to leave, it'll be best if you fake your death or I'll do it for you. 

Right now, in this moment ( of clear deliriousness) I cannot wait to meet you. 

I hope your day is going well, and that you get home safe from work. I do kinda need you alive.

All my love, 

Your Future Wife

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

A new, NEW year! - Day 170ish

Hello 2014, when did you sneak in so quickly?

I love NEW, anything sparkly and unknown. I love the new in a new year and even more the soul searching brightness of new resolutions. I like it the best that we get to start the new in the middle of summer. Feeling fresh and fit.  I mean, isn't looking forward to a newness in anything just the best? It makes me even happier when I look back at the old and find a new perspective, "Hey Chick, (I like to tell myself) check out all the cool stuff that your mind conjured up, look where your heart travelled to and look where it is now. I recon you've done well babe."

For the first new year in many, I can say I have a clean slate. I've dusted off the baggage, worked through the mind mess and well, here I am. As sparkly and new as the new year itself. I normally have a knack of starting the new year with goals and resolutions that are tangible and easy to accomplish. But this year I started it off with a bigger picture, full of how I would like to see my life live. Most of the things I have presented to the universe are completely out of my control but I know are guided by Mr Upstairs. I have a full feeling of excitement and motivation this time around.

Last night after settling down into my beautiful Joburg apartment after a full two weeks in my Durban home, I challenged myself to not write down goals but words in which at the end of this year I would like to see describe how it went.

ADVENTURE, LOVE and SUCCESS were the three wordies that I see defining my 2014. I am not completely attached to the manner in which they manifest but I guess, that's really not up to me is it?

I challenge you with a simple word goal for your very own 2014. What words would you like to have described your year?

I don't think a strong belief in the workings of manifestation is needed, I think that what we want for our lives can come in many forms and whatever we call them; prayer, sun salutes, dancing naked in the rain, they all funnel into the same objective. The bottom line is, starting the year off with a positive and strong intention is the first stepping stone that we can take to motivate ourselves. Your every action is a reaction to a thought prompted by some divine subconscious goal you have set for yourself. Nothing is coincidence. You made it happen all on your very own.

So here's me wishing you a very smiley, warm 2014. May it be the best one you can imagine it to be!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...