I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
– Louis Armstrong
As I embrace 2023, it is with a sense of humility and gratitude that I list the abundance of blessings in evidence.
After the searing past couple of years, all my beloveds, family and dearest friends, are in generally good health.
The ravages of the epidemic seem to be fading with time, and a wonderful sense of normality is slowly but surely reasserting itself.
During the festive season break, I was able to catch up with many of those I hold close to my heart, some having traveled as far as the snow and cold of Alaska.
Family members I have not seen in years, were in the Cape, and we could give each other long overdue hugs and share stories from hearth and home, and share a meal.
Projects that I’d been longing to tackle could be prioritised, and some repairs made, and very therapeutic hours were spent cleaning out cupboards, and investigating neglected nooks and crannies.
The joy of reading, for a change… not relentless emails and messages, but books, marvelous books!
And a visit to our wonderful Somerset library yielded many more treasures for the future, including some DVDs and audio books (our library is one of my happy places).
I took my mom for ice-cream at The Coffee Roasting Company at Lourensford, and a walk around the gardens and art gallery, and we watched a couple of good movies.
Games nights with my sister and her family were a source of much laughter and lighthearted teasing, and I felt my playful self re-emerging after a long hibernation, and many dark imaginings.
Long walks on the beach, and frolicking in the waves with friends on our boogie-boards, was enough to kickstart my immune system into overdrive (it had been depleted of late, and the stimulation of the cold, salty water and sun on my skin was just what the doctor ordered).
Witnessing the variety of seabirds is a regular highlight, especially the gorgeous Oyster Catchers, in all their fragile beauty.
By now there are three pairs, an excellent sign that their habitat is not being overly challenged by the presence of humans (or dogs… this is in a protected marine area, honour it).
Their pitch-black feathers, with characteristic red eyes, beaks and legs, make for such a vivid picture, especially when juxtaposed against blue sky and fleecy white clouds, the various colours of the ocean as her moods change, and the white sands.
The gulls are also a sight that warms my heart, and I’ve started reading up much more about the breeding habits of our seabirds, and was astounded to find out how long they live, and how many of them seek partners for life.
The longer days, and the warm weather, make it so much easier to rise very early, and by now we’re in the habit of making the most of the quiet hours when loadshedding strikes, and light candles and play Scrabble and cards, or take our dinner to eat outside under the tree.
We’re fortunate to have such an abundance of outdoor markets to visit over weekends, and pick up little treasures at bargain prices, most often to gift others with.
Having such access to freshly-grown produce, home-baked goods, arts and crafts, local musicians playing their own tunes or catchy covers… games of backgammon over a cup of coffee, these are some of my favourite things (and don’t cost much, or require a long drive to find).
It was good to resume my yoga practice, and let the conditioned sense of general urgency subside, as I put off my devices, and felt the sensation of long, deliberate breathing, and the tension ebbing away from body and mind.
In his 1807 poem, The World Is Too Much With Us, Wordsworth lamented mankind’s absorption in materialism, and distancing itself from nature (“We have given our hearts away”, he cautions).
How then, to recapture our hearts?
We have the singular good fortune of inhabiting a world of such vivid beauty (despite our neglect and mistreatment of her), and the more we expose ourselves to the ministrations of nature, and the lessons and examples found therein, the better chance we stand of surviving the journey of life, and enhance our capacity for thriving.
Many challenges and obstacles are not circumnavigable, leaving us with no alternative other than to cope, recalibrate, and “soldier on”– something we as South Africans are renowned for.
There is a lot to lament, no doubt, but ameliorating the problems and inconveniences are a great many positives.
Our relatively benevolent climate, peaceful coexistence, food security, infrastructure etc…
Without being facile, I subscribe to the tenet of always looking at the bright side of life (thanks, Monty Python!), even when the going seems pretty bleak.
It helps, and with time… and many unanticipated realities… I’ve learned how to accept and manage situations with a greater sense of equanimity.
We are inherently strong and yet frail, and the toll of the last couple of years is self-evident.
So prioritise re-fueling, nurturing and establishing balance, to counteract what inevitably lies ahead, in one guise or another.
Establish boundaries, so that the incessant white noise doesn’t gain too great a foothold – and redefine what is essential, important, imperative… versus that which can be discarded or held at bay.
There is so much clamouring for our attention, for our “spend”, and this has an insidious effect on our wellbeing and self-esteem.
Stay informed, without becoming consumed, and be wary of Machiavellian purveyors of “news” and “current affairs”… youngsters particularly have never been more imperiled than now, in this time of immediacy, instant gratification, and less capacity for discernment.
I’m also so thankful for the many good people I regularly encounter during the course of my work; the positive conversations and acts of service manifested in their words and deeds.
May this be an exceptional year for humankind… may peace, love, mercy and tolerance yet prevail.