The writing (and all the typos) continues… and goes on… and on… and on… and on…
Peanuts!
My fingers are in non-stop mode and if it wasn’t for the limb I seem to be missing my head would actually be screwed on while attempting some smidgen of intelligent thought. What possessed me to think that I could possibly mole myself away and write over Christmas (and New Year?) is beyond me. I must have been on crack. ‘But onwards’ they shout! And march on we will. I’m more determined than ever to hand in now. I’ve just bloody come too darned far.
One of the biggest motivators to get my handing-in ass into gear has been the birth of my mentor’s baby girl. Since the little one’s been born, I’ve had this need (this real, insatiable need) to visit mum and baby in Cape Town. After years and years (and years and years) of trying she has given birth to a beautiful bundle of joy. Alas, fate is cruel and the little one has a hole in her heart and is refusing to eat. I want to be with my mentor so badly I could start walking to CT. This last leg of my masters has really exhausted my pocket and well, reality is reality – I can’t get to CT on a honeyed smile and a bit of cleavage. Feeling the need to burn plastic and get on a plane to be with my dearest friend has been a kick in the backside to get moving with this thing – hand it in and get working. Hell, if it’s a job as a janitor in an NGO I’m there like a bear. Yogi hankers for a foot in the door.
My life has been consumed with my thesis recently. Why, this evening I passed up an opportunity to watch the pantomime with my bhai (brother’s) kiddios in favour of burrowing away in my room – not to mention the constant harp harp at the back of my mind successfully preventing me from engaging with my world in any sort of meaningful manner. That being said – the writing is flowing baby! As much as I’m finding it difficult to navigate being at home and writing up, it’s been equally wonderful sitting down at my comp – the words just flow. What a blooming pleasure! Over the past year I’ve had the good fortune to meet a number of people who have been so very influential in supporting me mentally through my journey and I’m seeing (like literally seeing) their advice ‘happening’. It’s a blessing to have these angels touch my life. I’ve met some at my parent’s health store, some in social settings and others in the field. At the moment I let go, an an angel drifted into my life to part the clouds – how can I ever be grateful enough for this divine presence?
I spent a week at the end of November in Grahamstown taking stock and plotting the trajectory for the final leg of my journey and my – was it a trip! Not only was I missing a limb again (although that experience was lemon and herb to this peri-peri), it was a whirlwind experience which really set my course of action straight for me. It’s amazing how much focus I managed to gain by simply meeting face to face and communicating. If my masters has taught me anything – it’s the importance – the value – the necessity – the sheer enormity (!) of communication. Part of this is letting go the fear. In my case, this would be letting go the fear of sounding like a dim-wit. It’s quite liberating I must say. Splaying yourself out, cringing at the thought of the ‘worst-case-scenario’ and then finally realising it’s not half as bad as you’d imagined it to be. After a few sessions in the tea room talking about my research and how much I’ve learnt, Robin is convinced that I’m in the ‘wrong’ profession – that I’m wasted on anthropology. According to the eldest Anthropod, I should be in stand-up. ;)
And so my friends it is on that note I bid you good night. May your dreams take you to your hearts desires and may your spirit work its magic to bring them to life.
Adieu…
