Suddenly I remember to love myself.

Its been a tough year. Struggling with adapting to new ways of being, worrying about money and exams. Becoming more and more aware of the wounds of apartheid within my fellow students, then myself and then my country. Fear caused by ever increasing levels of violence. Academically gaining a better understanding of the dynamics behind violence in a divided country.

Reading about forgiveness, long meditations where I make peace with not knowing what to do, how to act, what I feel. The last rush through exams coupled with a friend's death, a car accident and discussions in which some of my fellow students expressed their deep mistrust and dislike of white people. Marking the essays of my students and reading of their initial impressions and mistrust of me. Getting deeply emotionally involved in group facilitations and loosing my ability to stay neutral.


A deep democracy workshop with a group of facilitators. That which was left unsaid choked the group into silence, yet we all voted, without reservation, that we were not ready to go underneath the waterline and confront what lies there.

Nightmares filled with violence and prosecution. My stomach often churning with anxiety during the day.

Reading more about deep democracy, children's participation in environmental education projects around the world and about the price I pay as a perfectionist, believing there is only a right and a wrong decision and that sacrifice is more important than pleasure.

Going on holiday with F's ex girlfriend and her boyfriend who believes in rationality and science and who deeply mistrusts spirituality and self analysis.

Giggling with my sister, delighting in the luminous beauty of her eyes, swimming in the river, watching the dogs running across a mountaintop with their tongues hanging out.

Loving and appreciating F more as I see him negotiate difficult social terrains with wisdom, vulnerability and compassion, falling asleep listening to the song of the river.

Feeling like shouting in the ex-girlfriends face and pulling her awesomely curly hair.

Driving home for 8 hours, having supper with my parents, getting home and falling into sleep.


Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, I feel a rush of love towards myself. This love is filled with acceptance of what is and who I am. There is also a deep gratefulness towards the me that gets up every morning, hoping that a better world is possible. One filled with love and conversation, change, miracles and creativity, joy and the possibility that today another dream might be fulfilled until one day all will dance with their full potential.

For trying with my whole heart and soul to love myself and life just as it is. For doing everything that I do because a part of me believes I need to.

I look down at my list of to-does and I realise with a childlike glee that cleaning the kitchen and study can wait until tomorrow or even the day after.