Now is the Time for Courage


A new year beckons. Before you know it we will be challenged by another 1st of January.  It's time to effect the change for which we yearn. Along come all the hopeful resolutions that briefly see the light of day before dying their usual death.

Don't make resolutions - again
I spoke to a group of people recently and asked them if they had made resolutions for 2020, many of them had. Most were horrified when I told them to ditch their grand plans as they would cause more stress than they were worth. The 1st of January is like some magical line in the sand – there is a vague hope that we can step across the line and suddenly be all the things that we haven’t been for the last X number of years.

The right inspirational moment
Things that need to get done, get done. If you amputate a finger while cunningly carving a radish to decorate a salad, you don’t sit on the couch waiting for the right inspirational moment to go to the closest casualty room. You put your finger in a Tupperware container and just go.

Our brains contain a dominant picture of who we are. In order to maintain sanity, we have to match the picture of who we know ourselves to be. Have I been on a diet and lost weight? Yes! But my brain can’t hold a picture of a thin Ruth, so back the weight goes until I am once again the shape I know myself to be. Can we change?

Building a better picture
Yes, we can, the trick is to build such a strong picture of what you want that the new picture becomes the dominant one. We automatically move towards the dominant picture. Easy. Um, no. You can build a new picture using visualisation, vision boards and affirmations but I believe until there is the same urgency to change the picture as there is to get your stray digit out of the Tupperware container and back to its right place, there will be little success.

Change takes courage. But perhaps it is time.

I had this made - it says 'Courage'.
Vuka Paphaphama

You must believe that you can rise –
Vuka paphaphama!
Get up! Get up!
Shed yesterday’s memorymuddled sheets,
This is not the time for sleeping.
Life is flowing under the tired mattress,
Beyond the dark tightnight curtains a furious sun is beating.

Leave the bed heavy with old excuses and hungry hurts,
This is the time for courage.
Woza, Woza!
Grass is springing up between the floorboards
The fear-full house is flooding away
You know that you must rise:
Vuka paphaphama! Get up!

It is time.

Ruth Everson

Vuka Paphaphama – get up quickly
Woza - come

(The poem remains the intellectual property of the poet. Please do not use without permission.)

Comments

  1. Unknown16 December 2019 at 03:26

    Beautiful poem. Love it. It has in it a sense of urgency; a sense of immediacy. Yes... Wake up to all the possibilities ou there...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ngratpacoa-se29 May 2022 at 23:59

    Ngratpacoa-se Natalie Ray click
    wadumaxpmest

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Have The Conversation

On Thursday, I was invited to discuss my poem Black and White with 90 Grade 7s. The poem is about my second mother, Johanna Rapule. At the end of the talk, the girls asked a number of questions about the poem but there is one that has haunted me ever since. ‘What would you say to Johanna if you could speak to her again?’ The easy answer would be to tell her that I loved her. The real answer would be the deep regret that, although she knew my hopes and my dreams, I never knew hers. Growing up in apartheid South Africa, it seemed normal to have Johanna living in the tiny khaya at the bottom of the garden. It was normal to have her cook and clean and iron. I was five; my world was shaped by adults. As I grew up, visionary teachers, like Maureen O’ Gara, awakened me to the injustice that kept Johanna in her place. As a student, I protested and waved placards. We ran from the police down the streets of Benoni. We wrote angry poems, smoked furiously and drank too much wine.
Read more

Tear Ducts, Onions and Chillies

Image
I’ve had a blocked tear duct for at least two weeks. It looks a little like I’m keeping a giant Easter Egg under my eye. I’ve checked, there’s no Lindt or Geldhof surprise waiting for me, which is a pity. I refuse to visit the doctor for something as puny as an eye duct. When I go, I like to tick off things like back ops, neck fusions, foot reconstructions or the odd skin graft on the troublesome head. Eye will not admit defeat to something the size on a pin prick. I have tried various methods to unblock the duct. Using my powers of deduction (see what I did there?) and Google, I set about finding a solution. Dr Google suggested a hot compress. I heated up a face cloth and reclined on the couch in a tragic pose, calling faintly for tea. The compress did nothing. I’m still hoping for the tea. The next was to try an eye solution. I poured drops into my eye. Nothing helped. Julia did mention that the drops were so past their expiry date that Noah may have dropped them of
Read more