How do you know when you are living the dream?

A QUICKIE

monday morning epiphanies

What are your life's success indicators? 

Most of us go through life never thinking about this. If we never choose when to call ourselves a success then we might never be able to administer the all important pat-on-the-back one day. 

I propose the idea of the Quality of Time. 

Just today I decided that when I get to see the people I am in love with every day, then I will call myself a success. Every morning I wake up and drive away from love into my job (which at the moment is pretty much like driving over the edge of a cliff and falling for 8.5 hours into the mouth of a monster). 

I wish I could replace the characters in my weekday with the people that populate my weekend. The former are mostly the people that life imposes on me and the latter are the people I choose over and over again (and I will choose them in Heaven one day).

People are always reminding us about how short life is but no one ever promotes shifting the focus of our goals. 

We can enrich the time that we do have by filling it with the faces and voices of the best people we know. 

Today I will begin to design the day that includes my favourite things and I will commit to a plan that will make this day a month, a year and a lifetime for me.

me and my money

money
or no money
do we have what it takes to handle both scenes?

these past few days have been minimalistic. I bought Fiance a tv for his birthday and prepared myself for the 2 weeks of poverty that would follow. Tomorrow is pay day and I'd like to reflect on the free life lessons that have shown themselves while I've been without big green.
LESSON # 1 
listen to your mother!
Of all the things that my mother has taught me this may be the only thing that changed the course of my life:

Stop Living Above Your Means

It was something I needed to hear continuously. Through the phase of my life when all my friends wore branded clothing this was an especially hard pill to swallow. No one wants to feel like an outsider during those tender teenage years.  I would cry for money, pretend I had it, use it to make myself fit in.
When I got my first part-time job I was naturally out of control spending my money on clothing and stuff for my friends.  On the occasions that I had to ask my mother to spot me some rands before pay day she would really let me have it. I still never understood the lesson even though I was already 20.
6 years on her wisdom hit as the recession did, it seemed as though we were one of the only families who were completely unaffected.  My mother never let the fear of keeping up with the Joneses run her into debt. 
It seems that when presented with the option of buying something on credit or going without, most people choose the former. 

Although it was a trying process for us both, my mother did manage to instill in me the sense to choose the latter.

In fact, the idea of debt abhors me- on the occasion that I have had to borrow money from anyone I make it a point of returning the money at the first chance I get.

LESSON # 2
no money = more resourceful
Well that’s a contradiction if I ever saw one.
Or is it?
When I don’t have money I find myself digging into the recesses of my brain to come up with ideas on how to survive. And by survive I don’t literally mean stay alive. Rather I am talking about getting through the weekend outings with the girls/ the birthday presents that need to be bought/ the random and frequent celebrations that tend to spring out of nowhere/ finding interesting things to do with Fiance. 
It’s as if my creative instincts are awakened and ideas are oozing out of my ears.  I think it’s when I tap into my poverty-success resource. It’s a term that I’ve given to the mechanism involved in all the famous rags to riches stories. From the Great Gatsby, to Oprah, to my own parents. When people have nothing they work so much harder to make a success of themselves. They spend all their time utitlising their poverty-success resource as  having no money is exactly the impetus that they need to maximise their abilities.

Sadly the more successful your parents are, the more lazy you will be (generally).  It’s as if my generation chose a (sky-lit) roof over their heads/ (gourmet) food in their bellies and (designer) clothes on their backs over the will/ drive/ tenacity to be successful. Nowadays no one applies themselves fully to anything that they do, there are no more passionate geniuses.   

Rather, we walk around with an attitude that we are owed something and that’s something our 

parents never grew up with.

So take money out of the equation and think about what lengths you would go to get it back or to keep your head above water. Human beings are embedded with abilities but most don’t reach their full potential in their lifetimes. 

It’s nice to know that now and then, when I have no money to buy someone else’s ideas, I can come up with my own.

LESSON # 3
when there is no money, keep the eye contact (it’s free)
This is not a pie-in-the-sky philosophy.
this is based on true life and true love.
When you love someone it is not about how much money they have, it’s about what kind of person they become when they don’t have money.  
Being with someone in a meaningful and lasting way means preparing yourself for days when he will have and you won’t; when you will have and he won’t and then for those great days when you both have and those awful situations when you both don’t.  Contrary to popular gossip, none of these are automatic recipes for disaster.
WHEN MEN ARE STRUGGLING THEY MAY ASK
Q: What kind of man will I be if I take money from you?
Your Reply-
Q: What kind of woman would I be if I went out and bought meaningless things with my money while you struggled for us both?
Men need to understand that they are not lesser men for not having money, but for not showing their resilience in the face of financial strain. To a woman, a hero happens to be a man who runs around all day trying to provide for her but who puts on a mask that makes her feel secure at night.
The key is to be happy or content with where life places you at any given time.  So when it happens to be at the bottom of the financial hill, don’t let it bring out a monster in you. Trust in God, show support, laugh everything off and have an open mind. Always create an environment of safety for one another. 

Lock eyes when the going is good, and lock eyes even more when things get bad.

 
LESSON # 4
give a lot
This is an unfailing philosophy taught by most faiths.
It requires a degree of spirituality to be applied though. If you have faith in a higher power then you usually understand the responsibility to do good unto others.
Parting with your money freely is one such good. The Prophet Muhammad (Peace be Upon Him) would give his possessions to the poor everyday living off the principal that:
"If you trust in God as it ought to be, He will provide sustenance for you as He provides sustenance for the bird which goes forth early in the morning with hunger in its belly but returns in the evening with its stomach full."
From this we learn that when we throw good into the wheel of life, that we will have that good returned (most likely at a time when we need it most).
Give freely and give to free yourself- if it doesn’t come naturally, do it anyway.
This is a motto I live by and will hopefully die by.

In conclusion, I want to validate the above thoughts. I know my darkest financial days are not behind me and that people will use this to call me naïve. But to them I say that money is only worth as much as what and who you choose to use it on and share it with. Liberate yourself from the stereotypes that attribute all the power to money.

Eat.Pray.Love.Don't Travel

(This is, sadly, not a) TRAVEL BLOG

Last Friday I went to see Eat.Pray.Love with my besties and fiance. { I am not a fan of romcoms, they stopped appealing to me in my adult life. But this one had Julia Roberts in the lead role and she will never stop appealing to me}.

The movie failed to come together well (for me). But the one thing I could relate to is the main character's feeling of being stifled and then regarding travel as the answer to all life's questions.The most poignant line in the movie is when she says "I need to marvel at something". That's really how I feel. I'm not being ungrateful about the wonderful  and MARVELous life I have here.  I just acknowledge that to understand myself  in relation to creation and to all living things, I need to have my horizons widened. I need material that will abate my writer's block, give me a new appreciation for the things I have and inspire a rebirth of my spirituality.

I see travel as the route to closeness to God. I want to push my toes in the sand of a foreign shore and contemplate the levels of His greatness. How He created this beach and all beaches, this person and all people. My  mind has not been able to properly comprehend existence. All I know is here, Cape Town. I want to offer my experiences to the rest of the world and receive the same gift in return. There are nooks of the earth that are calling for me by name.

I don't need to run away from anything (anymore). My need to travel has been modified over time. It may have started in adolescence when nothing I said made sense- but I've brought it with me into my late (yuck) twenties where its form has more maturity and clarity every day. 

I want to travel in the name of adventure. In Cape Town, in my culture, people tend to get  married, struggle in a job that pays too little then panic as soon as they have children.

Am I wrong to want more?

Why should I ignore the voice that says 'travel' when most  people don't even have these all-important soliloquies (#happytobecrazy) . People look at the idea of temporary  immigration as  something  that is so impossible to do.
But I need to go, even if it means failing and missing home too much and going around in a circle just to prove that temporary immigration is impossible.

When you know where your home is you should be able to move away from it freely.

 


People who haven't experienced other cultures or countries are different to those who have. I don't want to be a  visitor to a country, I want to be a  citizen for as long as I'm there. I want to learn a new language, cook with their foods, live by their traditions and their rules. I want to know the country's  favourite  landmarks (not the ones in books or on the Travel channel- but the ones the locals pick). I want to eat at the best indigenous restaurants and be in awe of the things that are so different to what I know. I want to stay long enough to tap into a culture's secrets and be a part of the way they do things in their part of the world.

however....

My need to travel comes second to my need to be a wife. In 4 months time I will take on a responsibility that will hopefully change me for the better.

I have been told I will need to make compromise the mantra for that chapter of my life.

On Friday my fiance was interviewed for a Cape Town-based job that he feels could be the answer to all his life's questions. Heavy. We got into a heated debate about these two conflicting life paths. Adventure vs. Security; Not knowing vs. Knowing; Possibility of no money for a while vs. Money; Change of scenery vs. Cape Town. At the height of the debate I fell quiet. He carried on speaking about all things logical, sensible, correct and safe but I began to exit the moment...

It became apparent to me that a big test would be on our hands were he to get this job. And before he even had to ask me to stay in Cape Town, I was trying to make myself okay with it. Soon it would be my duty to support him, soon I would have to start behaving like a woman who was answerable to someone else. 

It hurt very much the same way that a broken heart does. Because it has the same ingredient.  

The conspicuous truth that kills a concept you once believed in.

Traveling in the way that I would like to do it would have to be put up on the shelf next to skydiving, shaving my head and having coffee with John Mayer. I'm not resigning from my dreams. I'm accepting that my fiance makes more sense and I'm prematurely accepting the role of the trophy wife over the role of the jet-setting ethnographer. 

Back Blogging

So much has happened, will you forgive me for being such a poor blogger! I am still without my laptop - so I can't do my famous Carrie from Sex and the City impersonation at night :(

I managed to post something a few minutes ago, which I must clarify was actually from last Tuesday.

I'm going to attempt to write about the most recent events because they are the most fresh. For all the other post I'm going to have to slot the information in under the various headings- #ihatebacklogs

Sunday- This is what I woke up to

My cousin is house-sitting for someone with 2 very cute dogs and a dying cat. The house owner has been pretty much relaxed about my cousin having special friends over so me and my besties were in luck. We got to stay in a beautifully-furnished bungalow that overlooks Clifton 4th beach. Property in Cape Town does not get more prime.

When we woke up on Sunday we had just missed the sunrise (by 7 hours). But I'm sure it was pretty much as majestic as the sunset without the bathers.

So I took my champion's breakfast- Ensure and a banana- on the terrace and had a chat with one of my besties about what it would be like to live like this everyday. With the beach at your feet and the mountain at your head you would truly have the very best of Cape Town all the time.

I kitted up and in less than 10 mins I was on the field- Helenic the Greek Club in Bay Road. In full view of the Cape Town stadium- awesome.

Our first game was easy, against Brett Evans' girls called Ajax (just for the tourney). I was worried about coming up against his wife who has scored a hat trick in last week's league game. I always see her at cycling events so I know she's fit. But the game was in the bag once the first 3 goals were scored by our powerful striker. Not even my own-goal (#epicfail) affected the victory- in a more serious game/with a tighter scoreline, I would have been given sad silent looks. Lucky me I got to be laughed at for the rest of the day instead.

During the second game I got badly injured. I took an elbow to my front tooth. Now I entered into the world of womens soccer 3 years ago with just one reservation- possible injuries to the mouth. 

It's taken me most of my life to come to terms with my teeth. 

I had a huge gap, 

then braces, 

wore a retainer for 3 years (while I slept) 

and the minute I stopped wearing it the gap returned. 

Normal. 

*Now, at age 26, with Madonna's reinvention still fresh in everyone's mind I actually love my teeth. In the same way I love my other once-hated body parts. Madonna showed everyone that the gap can be beautiful if you couple it with other great qualities (like sick dance moves and a smoking-flexible-killer body). On my way to Madge's fabulous body, I'll believe that the beat goes on and that anyone can reinvent their looks, and breathe life into unconventional physical features.

 

Back to the blood bath that my tournament turned into- I was sent off the field and immediately I could feel that something was wrong. Once I had rinsed some of the blood- which was coming from my split lip- I could see the extent of the damage. My precious and central right front tooth had been hit back. Surprisingly there was no looseness just a feeling of anger building inside my chest. For a second I wished I could go back in time and smash in that little blonde bitch striker. All she did was haggle in my area of defense clearly annoyed that I was marking her. When it all got to much for her she thought she'd destroy my tooth and my dream of having a beautiful collection of wedding pictures. All I kept saying was "I'm so livid, it's my wedding in four months". 

I called up an old friend who is now a dentist and she offered to meet me at the dental practice in Wynberg. Just as I was about to leave the field with one of my besties, my fiance arrived and I felt myself caving in. You know that one person who is privy to the weakest version of you? Well, the minute my bestie was out of earshot and eye-line I burst into tears. I cried from the Hellenic Club to Maynard Mall. All the while the fiance comforted me, with an ice pack (he carries one around with him wherever he goes :) and sensible words about how the dentist would fix everything up. 

I cry because he let's me 

and before the first tear drops he has already made himself into a wellness centre offering medical advice and counselling. *Events where he has been the hero: 

• completely closed his car door onto my right thumb: he was there with ice and bandages. 
• got headered by a guy during soccer: he met me at the hospital with ice

• nearly fell to my death on Lion's Head: he was there with ice water and an improvised bandage made of a soccer sock
• (Please note that ice is a crucial element to first aid)

If you ever danced with death, he would be the kind of fiance you would want to own. His hands are made of magic and he always seems to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves and stop your pain. It helps that he has a medical background because he knows when something is badly broken under your skin or when you could be concussed. But at the end of the day it's so much more than that. It's the fact that when I get hurt he wants to be first on the scene and he wants to be the one who fixes me. 

Maybe I became more accident-prone when I met him :) 

Klop en Gebak Chocolate Cake Recipe

I'm home recovering from an epic weekend. Sadly I will have to return to work tomorrow if I want to convince my parents that I am well enough to play in our first soccer match of the new season.  



I have the definitive urge to bake again- could be my ego hungry for the praise from last weeks success. 

I haven't decided whether to make biscuits or chocolate cake. Decisions. I will post some pictures once I'm done :)

Klop en Gebak

Ingredients

2 cups castor sugar

4 eggs

1 cup fish oil

1 teaspoon vanilla essence

4 teaspoons baking powder

2 cups cake flour -  For Chocolate cake remove 3Table spoons of flour replace with 3 table spoons of Cocoa.

1 and ¼  cups milk

Method

Mix above ingredients in the order that it is listed using a big spoon and adding the ingredients as you go along. Pour into either a round baking dish or a square dish. Bake at 180 Degrees at preheated oven for 20-30 minutes.

Topping:

(I don't do the jam thing. In fact I bake my cake in a round tin with a hole in it (I think it's called a doughnut).)
Spread cake with apricot jam

Mix together icing  and coconut (dry) and sprinkle on cake

Topping for choc cake

1 can of nestle cream (a half of the big one or one small one)

1 slab of Cadbury chocolate

Method

Melt chocolate in microwave. Add cream and mix. Wait until cake cools down, top with a layer of jam then top with chocolate mixture.
(I melt the chocolate in a glass dish over a pot of boiling water.)

 

Birthday Blogging

I have wanted to blog all weekend but I am sanslaptop presently. I borrowed it to my friend for the week while she was without her own. She needed to organise some love songs for her brother's wedding - my iTunes is in need of some attention but she assured me that it would suffice.

It seems that I'm one of the only people who actually concern themselves with song lyrics when putting together wedding music. More times than I wish to remember I've attended weddings where the blissful couple walk in to a depressing song like "Me and Mrs. Jones" or the guests eat their meal to something equally sad like James Morrison's "Wonderful World".

 When did people stop listening to words?

It's not enough having a beautiful piano or guitar solo or some heart-warming tune. Wedding music should tell a story of love; not love and confusion or saying goodbye to love or even the lead up to love. It should be about love in it's purest form so that if the newly weds or guests happen to find themselves tuning into the background music, that they are uplifted and the event is given a memorable and beautiful status.

Speaking of events memorable and beautiful let me get to the point (s) of this blog entry- my birthday weekend.

In South Africa we celebrate Heritage Day on the 24th September. On this day South Africans are encouraged to celebrate their cultural heritage and all things that make them similar or different to others. I guess it comes as no surprise that in 2007 the day became known as 'National Braai Day'. Well I am a complete sucker for anything patriotic so a braai was definitely on the cards when I planned my weekend. But first.... allow me to get my bake on :)

THURSDAY
On Thursday evening I decided it would be a good idea to bake my infamous chocolate cake. I am a lover and believer in home-made things. I've only ever baked this particular cake twice- the first time it was an absolute hit. The second time it baked over the side of the tray and dripped into the oven. Since that incident we have had our oven repaired, apparently it was allowing air to escape. I don't want to be a bad workman who blames her tools so I was nervous to give the baking another go.

Recipe for Klop en Gebak Chocolate Cake to follow shortly...

The braai was just for close friends so it was nice and stress-free. And my fiance was helpful and attentive-the winning formula for this days particular mood.

After dinner we made our mission up Lions Heas for the full moon hike. I read about the event on facebook but I had heard little official information despite my frantic googling. The last thing I wanted was to put my besties in danger...in the dark... High above cape town. We arrived relatively late, it was pitch dark by the time we ascended the mountain. Little groups of people passed us- it seemed they were at the top for sunset and caught the last light while descending the trickiest parts of the slope. Smart people. With torches. We only had 2 headlamps for 6 people sp we had to be strategic. We positioned one wearer in front and one at the back. How do I always end up being the person in the group who has to create fairness and balance? It's a hard role to play and one I was not in the mood to be forced into. As a result there was a lot of kind requests to the people upfront to slow down for the (scared) one's in the middle. My fiance and I stayed at the back to make sure no one got hurt or left behind. The moon looked equally beautiful but so different from every part of Lion's Head.

Muay Tired

With my wedding less than 6 months away I need to find a viable way to get into great shape. I'm not fat. I was 6kg ago. With all the groundwork out of the way, I now need a good eating plan to keep the kilos off and an excellent way to stay motivated and get toned.
In my experience there is no one method to lose weight. You have to combine techniques and sort of commit yourself in all aspects of your day. This may require a shift in thinking. Here are examples of mine:
1. Have 2 cups of Green Tea a day/ have coffee only 2-3 a week
2. Try to do some form of exercise everyday, even if it is just sit-ups in my room
3. Eat less in one sitting, instead of pigging out until I can't move. I am trying to ignore the urge to continue eating when I've had a sufficient amount to eat. A good way to do this is to plan something for straight after you eat so that you know you can't go overboard.

Last night I attempted Muay Thai. I live to tell the tale.
I went to Panther Martial Arts in Salt River. In the short time I was there I saw 3 people I know. It seems this place is all the buzz right now as Capetonian men attempt to get ripped for the summer. I went with 2 of my besties and my fiance. Luckily by the time we got there the peak-time class was just drawing to a close. So strange men only got to stare at us warm up for about 15 minutes before we had the trainer all to ourselves. There is just something about the setup last night that worked for me. Small class, hardcore trainer, friends to lock eyes with and laugh, fiance to try to impress... it was pure magic. It didn't feel magical for most part of the hour, but that's how it goes when you push your body that hard.
For me it's an easy thing to get addicted to because you literally lose your mind and the pain gets so intense that you tell yourself you're done and then one minute later you're doing it again. The other appeal is the end result, I keep picturing myself 6 months down the line with no recollection of individual moments of wanting to throw up and pass out simultaneously. Oh and in this future image I have the exact body that I want.
Earlier this year I did the Cape Argus Cycle Tour and embarked on a similar journey. Up the hills along our beautiful coast until I thought the skin on my body would split open for my muscles. Waking up before the sun so that we could be on our bikes just as the light began to define the roads. It was so crazy, just the idea of taking your body to that plane- a place you would otherwise have never known.
People look at you like you've gone mad when you talk about it, I think it's because you probably have for that time.
What was new last night was having someone spur me on. I have never had a personal trainer or anything similar before so it was something I had to test out. It adds a dimension to the way you exercise, suddenly there is someone watching you, relying on you, needing you to finish that set. The sudden responsibility awakens the warrior inside of you. You find yourself watching his every reaction in search of approval. When he held up the mitts and I made weak attempts to remember left right..or is it right left..? and punch at the same time. I remember looking through the mitts and seeing him laugh... I wanted to stop and ask him why. Were my punches laugh-worthy?

Was it the ridiculous expression on my face?

I'm sure thousands have walked through  Panther Martial Arts doors- surely I wasn't the worst of them all.

There is a wisdom in a trainer like Hoosain from Panther Martial Arts. It says he has seen it all. It says he knows exactly how far to push you before you will break. It says that he doesn't have to do the full set with you because he is more fit than your mind can conceive. It says that in one swift movement he could kill you but rather his many swift movements give away his years of experience and achievements. Awesome.

Today I feel it in my calves- I'm having trouble walking. It feels as if someone has shoved a knitting needle into the back of my leg (about 2cm below my knee) I played an hour of soccer before Muay Thai so this could be the reason. I managed about 8 hours of involuntary sleep and I managed to be late for work for the 23rd time this month. I definitely declare today a rest day.
I will definitely return to Hoosain, next to my monthly trips to Meenakshi my beautician, I reckon it's the best R250 I will spend.

A Crown Birthday Present from the Year 2000

Picture by: Lateefah Joseph

So I'm turning 26 on Sunday and I'm having trouble filing my feelings. I could think of it as the run up to a milestone- 26! I mean, I arrived here relatively unscathed. All limbs attached, heart's four chambers intact, principles weathered but still standing. Things are definitely looking up, I'm definitely on my way to better days. The blessings in my life are endless, I finally feel like I  have earned God's favour. I'm riding a wave, part of a movement, basically I'm on a positive trajectory- i think you get the picture.

And on the other hand I just feel plain OLD :( When did I start thinking about making my parents proud, when did I start saying things like "well I wouldn't want my kids to see that picture of me one day", "Lady Gaga is a terrible role model", when did my besties start buying eye cream for wrinkles! I'll call it what it is- scary and totally unoriginal. People have faced and survived these emotions for years. You get old (God willingly) and those are just the facts of life.

And on the other hand (Yes, I have three hands), I have a specific anxiety about my time capsule. 10 years ago, I thought it would be smart to document my life and wisdom on my 16th birthday.
 
Exactly. 
I know!
So the time has come for me to open my time capsule (which is really just a folder of facts/ pictures/ hair clippings) and to see how much my life (and weight) has changed. I remember very little of what is in the capsule and I wonder whether I will be more surprised, disappointing or relieved.

I know and recognise the happiness I have at age 26, but how different were my ideals 10 years ago? All things fantastic and horrible have happened since. I hope I can look the 26 year old me in the eye on Sunday and feel love, despite the newsflash from the year 2000 (literally).

...and cue the blog

How else am I to stay relevant in this day and age? Everyday we are forced further and further into the technological movement and I for one do not want to get left behind. I've played out this very moment so many times in my head, every time trying to justify becoming a blogger. The following reasons should suffice for now:

- Cure and manage Writer's Block (3 year spell)

- Sharpen Social Networking Skills

- Tell Stories about my life when things get interesting enough
- Share useful information

If you're reading this I hope you'll stick around until it gets good.