Life in the very fast lane...: There definitely seem to be times in one’s life wh...

Life in the very fast lane...: There definitely seem to be times in one’s life wh...: There definitely seem to be times in one’s life when you learn more than at other times.   It is common knowledge that my learning curve h...

There definitely seem to be times in one’s life when you learn more than at other times.  It is common knowledge that my learning curve has been at ninety degrees in the last 365 days, and this is apparently continuing for now.

At the moment my lesson is “authenticity”.  I am faced almost daily with either people or circumstances in which I am forced to question authenticity.  I recall reading years ago about people who come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  I am fortunate to be on exceptional terms with my family members, so they go into the lifetime pot, whether they like it or not.  I am also in a fortunate position with a handful of long term close and very dear friends, so they too go into the lifetime category.  And then there are those who are part of a reason, and mostly, I understand the “why” either at the time, or if not, certainly afterwards (most of these are men I have dated – and probably their lives will never be the same again!!), and then… the clanger… the season.

One wonders why it is that we are “sent” people to feature in our lives, who are there for a period of time, and who you then choose to move on from once their true colours are either revealed, or yours are, and they don’t like what they find.  It is a two way highway for sure.

These individuals come into your sphere, become part of it, and then… they aren’t.  What I am finding is that I am becoming choosy.  Whether it is as a result of age, and therefore the ability to discern between those who have your best interests at heart, and those who don’t; or, it is just as a result of the “universe” sending you people who are not authentic, to test your ability to filter the good from the not so good.  If it is the latter, it does feel rather like being hit by a wet newspaper.
One must say however, that just because one chooses not to continue a friendship with someone who one feels is not authentic, does not mean that this person is not authentic to someone different, it just means they are not authentic in your life.  And that is perfectly okay.

And so, rather like a legavaan/rock monitor on the side of the road, that sheds its skin, so am I going through a process of “shedding”.  I am the first to acknowledge that I am being particularly particular at present, and I think that understandable in terms of a year of loss and now, a period of “rebuild”; however, I am also, for arguably the first time in my entire existence, being authentic to myself.  If I know, or discover, that someone does not absolutely have my very best interests at heart, then, with grace, it is time to move away.  No fights, no harsh words, dignity intact, but, to protect myself, a slow and steady move away, to what I know will be whiter waves and greener pastures.

The lesson therefore is an easy one:  value oneself, above all, and no matter how heart-wrenching it may be, remain true to yourself, and sieve out the sand from the gold.  Life just seems way too long to have anyone around who does not value you, appreciate you, and who wants only the very best for you.

Okay universe, lesson learnt.

Life in the very fast lane...: I love the adage “healthybody, healthy mind”. I h...

Life in the very fast lane...: I love the adage “healthybody, healthy mind”.  I h...: I love the adage “healthy body, healthy mind”.   I have spent a lot of time and energy in the last three months getting to a point of “he...

I love the adage “healthy body, healthy mind”.  I have spent a lot of time and energy in the last three months getting to a point of “healthy mind” after my latest life changing experience, so the mind is there… but the body… not so much!

According to Kate Moss, "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels". I think it is arguably the best quote I have ever heard.  At the moment, I find myself repeating it in my head, like my own personal mantra, at least one hundred times a day.

I am afraid the return to home cooking in Johannesburg has been detrimental to my waistline - or should I say - where there was once a waistline, there is now just, what they call a “muffin top”.

This is NOT a good look for someone newly single.

I am approaching the fabulous 40’s at a very fast rate, and while I can try and justify the “Botticelli body” in my mind, the reality is that the jeans are currently rather tight, and actually, it looks like I have jumped off the Empire State Building to get into them.  All this has crept up on me, but two weeks ago, I decided that enough was enough, and it was time to reel myself in.

And so, “diet 101” has been going on for eight long days now.  No carbs, no eating in between meals, not too much wine (this is the hardest part by a long way), not too much of anything really other than a lot of healthy food and positive affirmations on how I will look and how it will make me feel.

I traded in wine for water and bread for lettuce.  I think my body went into massive shock for the first seventy two hours, and it is still not completely sure whether to relax or not.  The answer is sadly, not.

Whilst I don’t have a huge fortune to lose, it is the difference between Botticelli and Heidi Klum, and potentially the difference between being out on the town on a Friday night, or staying in watching my phone for activity with as much energy as I spend on watching Downton Abbey every Sunday evening. 

Personally, the former option is more appealing.

And so it is back to the life of the salad.  I never knew until last week just how many different varieties of salad there are in this world, and I have arguably tried all of them of late.  I pretend I am űber excited to see that can of tuna and that tub of fat free cottage cheese, but the reality is that a bottle of wine, a fresh baguette and a hunk of brie would suit me far better.

I have decided to stay indoors socially until “diet 101” is complete.  Once the goal has been met, I plan to re-emerge with style, grace, and in my skinny jeans, and hope that most people almost faint from disbelief at just how slim I have become.

Boring?  Yes.  Worth it?  Absolutely.

Life in the very fast lane...: This morning it was “Mum’s muffin morning” at my d...

Life in the very fast lane...: This morning it was “Mum’s muffin morning” at my d...: This morning it was “Mum’s muffin morning” at my daughter’s school.   As a mother, ask me to do a puzzle, no problem, hide-and-seek, oka...

This morning it was “Mum’s muffin morning” at my daughter’s school.  As a mother, ask me to do a puzzle, no problem, hide-and-seek, okay, but bake… well, the involvement of anything that includes eggs, sugar and in particular, flour, turns my blood stone cold.  However, I am a mother, and as such, I have responsibilities, which every now and then include looking very enthusiastic about muffins.

The hour passed fairly quickly, and I survived it without looking at my watch once (this was hard for me, but I managed).  My daughter was delighted I was there, and that made me feel that today, I have done something good in the world.

But it got me to thinking about being needed.  I started work this week, and I am loving it.  You never appreciate how wonderful work is until you don’t have it and you would like it.  On both the motherhood front, and the work front, this week, I was needed and wanted.  For the first time in approximately 289 days, I have used my brain avidly on the work front; and for the first time in thirty nine and a half years, I used my creativity to make muffins.  I have to say, work is much easier for me than baking.  There are many people who I fear may attest to this.

I have come to the conclusion that not feeling needed is actually catastrophic to humans.  What is the point of getting up in the morning if no-one needs you or notices you are not there?  This is what leads to depression, binge eating or drinking (no comment), and too many hours of watching The Bold and the Beautiful and wishing you were Brook, with or without Ridge.

So this week, I have been so needed – on the work front, I think I have made a difference to someone, and that fills me with glee, and on the personal front, I know that this morning made a difference to my one and only child, and isn’t that a fabulous thing?

I feel that by starting in small ways – a part-time job and a muffin morning – you can build things up and be needed by others.  Being needed motivates one (me for sure) to be needed by more people, to widen one’s circle, to increase how much you give out, and to wake up every single morning knowing that there are many individuals out there waiting for you, needing you, and appreciating whatever it is you are able to give them that day – whether it is time, brain power, or simply, your presence in their lives.

Happy Friday everyone.  Enjoy every nano-second.

Life in the very fast lane...: I wasn’t a particularly academic student at school...

Life in the very fast lane...: I wasn’t a particularly academic student at school...: I wasn’t a particularly academic student at school, but one of the (very few) things I do remember, is reading our set work in English, ...

I wasn’t a particularly academic student at school, but one of the (very few) things I do remember, is reading our set work in English, Richard the Third, by Shakespeare, and I remember Richard’s famous line “now is the winter of our discontent”.  Well, I have to say, that winter 2012 has been my personal winter of severe discontent. 

However, in life, which is a great relief, things change and turn – like the seasons.  This morning, I saw the first signs of blossom on our apricot trees – there are no words to explain my excitement at this sighting.  You would have thought someone had just walked in and handed me a cheque for R10 million, or, that a delicious man had just walked in and asked me out on a date – both of these scenarios are pretty unlikely at the moment.

But back to the seasons – spring has almost sprung, and I am hoping that this means that things are changing, that there is new life, new growth, renewal, and most of all new life opportunities.

When I look back on winter 2012, I do think my discontent hit an all-time high one evening recently when I was sitting down and “budgeting”.  This is something I am not fond of, but have had to become accustomed to until I claw my way back to financial abundance.  I realized that there was more output than input, and I realized that I was indeed very stressed.

I thought of a quick solution – go to Woolies and buy a bottle of their “house wine”.  It seemed like my best laid plan.  So off I went, only to discover that the notes in my wallet would only allow for a (small) box of Longmarket Sauvignon Blanc, and the notes did not extend to a full bottle.  Now I was in a dilemma.  I have to admit, I have always looked down my powdered nose at boxes of wine – sayings like “I would never dream of drinking that!” or when I go to a restaurant, and ask for a glass of wine, and ask what wine it is, if the answer is “I am not sure, it is out of the box at the front desk” I look horrified and change my order to a gin and tonic immediately!  And so here I was – do I walk away, go home empty handed with no chance of that precious glass, or do I wind my non-wrinkled neck in, buy the box and celebrate the day?  I have to say, in terms of “the money or the box”, the box won.  Hands down.

That box has done me very well, I have to say, and coupled with a lot of ice and a dash of soda, it is not too bad at all, and does get better as it matures through the evening. 

Today, I had two startling realisations, both of them very good indeed.  Firstly, spring is on its way, and no-one is more delighted than I am, and secondly, after starting a very lovely part-time job yesterday, I realized that for the first time in one year, yesterday, my financial input was greater than my output instead of the other way around.  This is a fabulous feeling, and so, I have decided a further two things – firstly I will hold onto that box of wine to always remind me of those days and how far I have come and, secondly, tonight, I am off to the bottle store to buy a BOTTLE of wine!

Life in the very fast lane...: I am sure many of us have been glued to the Olympi...

Life in the very fast lane...: I am sure many of us have been glued to the Olympi...: I am sure many of us have been glued to the Olympics over the past few weeks.   What I have found so staggering, above all else, is the at...

I am sure many of us have been glued to the Olympics over the past few weeks.  What I have found so staggering, above all else, is the attitude of the medal winners.  When they have been interviewed post their win, they have all had a common link in their response.   When asked what the secret has been of their success, they have ALL replied, “I knew I could do it, I believed in myself, and I did it”.

So much of life is about apparently about attitude.  In the past year, I have become nothing short of a self-help encyclopedia.  I have a list of self-help books in my possession, I have a self-help CD I listen to in my car, and I walk around like a resident Deepak Chopra turning all “poverty thinking” into “prosperity thinking”.  All this being said, I am currently living at home (again), I am avidly re-networking and building up my business (again), I am very single and not accepting any date invitations (this is my line and I am sticking to it, the fact that are no invitations to turn down is of course irrelevant), and I spend my time working out how many days I have left to support my budget for the month.  So in essence, in the last year at least, I have gone shooting in one direction – reverse, instead of first, second, third, fourth or fifth gear FORWARD.

So how did this happen?  How did Ms. Positivity land up at the bottom of the proverbial barrel?  If it is “all about attitude” how did I land up back on my mum’s couch – not unlike evenings out at university when I used to come home and opt for the couch, as my bedroom, just twenty five meters away, was just too far to walk?

Let’s look at the positive side of things – from where I am now, the ONLY WAY IS UP!!

I have read, in one of my books, that most millionaires make money, then lose it, then make it again.  It is all because they think wealth, then they worry about losing everything, so they do, and then they think about making it all again, so they do that too.  This cycle has been known to repeat itself over and over again in just one individual.  I am not happy about this fact.

I am prepared to accept that I have made some astonishing mistakes; I am prepared to accept that I am taking steps to rectify these mistakes, and that it will take time to get back to my former glory (for want of a better saying, of course), but I am absolutely not prepared to accept that I may find myself back on the couch in eleven years from now (at age FIFTY, and hopefully fabulous).  If I make the same mistakes again, I am afraid I will have to accept that my intellect must be similar to that of a gold fish.

So now I have a challenge ahead of me.  How do I ensure I don’t go through this tough life lesson again?  It must be about attitude, naturally.  In the future, if I think I am going to temporarily shut down my business and all will be fine, it won’t be, this is a bad idea; in the future, if I attempt to rent out or sell the house I live in and think this is a good idea, it won’t be – another bad idea; and if in the future, I travel half way across this country, or any other country in fact in the vain pursuit of happiness, again, this is not a clever idea. 

Through all the hardships I have endured in the last year, and there are many, the one thing I have learnt from both the self-help network I have running through my head, as well as raw experience gained, is that the only person who can make me happy, is me; the only person who can make me rich, is me (I know this for a fact as I do not have any multi-billionaires running around waiting to throw me money once they have moved on to greener pastures), and the only person who needs to learn the lessons from these hard knocks, is ME.

And so I leave you with this thought:  In eleven years from now, when I am fifty (and fabulous?), will I be back on the couch reading about how to “think and grow rich”, or will I be choosing which couch I want to buy for my beach house in Martha’s Vineyard from the brand new Ralph Lauren catalogue?  Let’s hope the lesson has been learnt, and the latter is true…

Life in the very fast lane...: This week I was reminded of a wonderful Dutch sayi...

Life in the very fast lane...: This week I was reminded of a wonderful Dutch sayi...: This week I was reminded of a wonderful Dutch saying my God-father taught me, which is “the tallest trees catch the most wind”.   My God-f...

This week I was reminded of a wonderful Dutch saying my God-father taught me, which is “the tallest trees catch the most wind”.  My God-father is also my uncle and one of my most favourite, favourite people in the world.  He is also jolly clever and valued for his business brain.  As a result of this cleverness, he was working on a project in Holland years ago, and we spent a weekend together there, with my aunt too.  I will somehow never forget this particular conversation, and this week, I was happy about that.

The three of us were sitting on a canal boat drinking tea in Delft, Holland at the height of summer.  My uncle, Dominic, and I were chatting about business matters (one of the things I love to talk about – pretending of course that I know what it is I am talking about), and I was telling him how much criticism a high profile businessman was receiving at the time in Johannesburg, and how I didn’t understand it.  Although my uncle has lived outside of Africa for decades, he knew this chap and was listening with interest as I was defending an individual who I felt was being unfairly burnt at the business stake.  He said very casually, “well my darling, there is a saying here in Holland that is ‘The tallest trees catch the most wind’ and that is what is happening here”.  I asked him to explain to me what he meant, and he did.  Dominic said, quite simply, that when an individual achieves great things, makes a difference or indeed, “stands out and above” the rest, like the proverbial tallest tree, they “catch the most wind” i.e. they are the most challenged, the most criticized, the most judged.  He agreed with me that it is not fair, but he told me that whether I like it or not, it is human nature.

We hear that people criticise us to bring us down, or judge us because of their own “stuff” and I guess this was true of this individual years ago, and at some time in all of our lives, it will be true for us too.  We will be knocked down, we will be caught by the wind that is criticism, and unkindness, and disapproval. 

What was also explained to me that day is that it takes a lot for those tall trees to be uprooted.  They may sway and twist in the wind, but they remain rooted where they are and remain true to their nature – their leaves fall when they are supposed to and new growth arrives on time too – wind or not. 

Dominic said to me that even when the time comes when I catch the winds of criticism, no matter what happens, I must remain rooted, I must remain true to myself and realise a wonderful thing has happened, because “only the tallest trees catch the most wind”.

Life in the very fast lane...: My friends always laugh with (or at) me when telli...

Life in the very fast lane...: My friends always laugh with (or at) me when telli...: My friends always laugh with (or at) me when telling me how quickly my life changes.   Events occur in my life with such rapidity; I put t...

My friends always laugh with (or at) me when telling me how quickly my life changes.  Events occur in my life with such rapidity; I put the speed of light to shame.

And so it seems this is the case with the amount and frequency of relationship advice I seem to have received recently.  I don’t mind receiving the advice at all – heaven knows I clearly need it – but it is the origin of the advice that amuses me the most.

First of all we had Lenny the gate man, who not only asked me out on a date, but gave me huge pointers here and there, most of which, I have to admit were sound.  Yesterday I summoned my old faithful TV repair man to come and help at home for a big problem I currently have:  a willful six year old and an even more willful thirty nine year old who oddly enough don’t like watching the same television channel at “TV time” – from five to seven every evening.  I am so over Hannah Montana it is scary, even though I love her song “The Climb”, but even more of a problem is that my six year old has absolutely NO patience for my favourite soapy The Bold and the Beautiful and she is tired of seeing who Ridge will marry next – Taylor or Brooke – the same love triangle that has been going on since the very early 80’s.  To me, this is nothing short of fascinating, but not to my daughter.  Clearly two televisions are needed.

Anyhow, I digress.

Along comes Steve, the ever faithful TV man.  Of course I get the questions – “what the hell happened down there?” followed by a statement that I wasn’t sure was a compliment – “but HELL, you are such a BELTER, he was mad to let you go!”  Belter???  I have Googled this and I keep getting told to refine my search criteria.

The TV man did manage to help me in one way, with the actual TV issue I have – this is extremely good news; he also sat down with me over some tea (I am clearly kind to men in the trade and feel obliged to serve them tea) and said quite calmly, “Philippa, it is time to get back on the bike – you need to start dating again”.  My response “Steve I can’t, I am not ready”.  Steve’s response, very directly, “bloody nonsense, of course you are ready”.

I sent Steve on his way, but did spend the day thinking about what he had said.  Am I ready?  What am I afraid of?  In terms of getting “back on the bike” – it just doesn’t seem that easy to me – not only do I now know that a fall off the bike is not only likely, but most likely inevitable; I am also all too familiar with the bruises, scrapes and cuts that come with that fall, and I am just not sure I feel like that.

But the cherry on top was still to be had yesterday.  Returning from a dinner with my favourite taxi driver, Minute (yes, that is his name), I got the twenty questions again, “so Philly, no boyfriend yet?”  My reply, “no, Minute, no boyfriend yet”.  “But why not?” Minute asked.  “Because I am scared Minute”.  Minute then launched into a statement that I found profoundly amusing – “so you want to spend the rest of your life alone, like a dog?”  Suddenly this struck home – like a dog???  I am not sure that dogs are to be classified as beasts that are alone, but it made me somehow feel that perhaps being compared to a dog is not an analogy I am altogether happy with.

And so the moral of the story:  If one chooses to listen to men in the trade, most of which have known me well for a long time, and whom I am inherently honest with – does one follow their advice?  Is it finally time to get onto the bike and out of the kennel?

My friends always laugh with (or at) me when telling me how quickly my life changes.  Events occur in my life with such rapidity; I put the speed of light to shame.

And so it seems this is the case with the amount and frequency of relationship advice I seem to have received recently.  I don’t mind receiving the advice at all – heaven knows I clearly need it – but it is the origin of the advice that amuses me the most.

First of all we had Lenny the gate man, who not only asked me out on a date, but gave me huge pointers here and there, most of which, I have to admit were sound.  Yesterday I summoned my old faithful TV repair man to come and help at home for a big problem I currently have:  a willful six year old and an even more willful thirty nine year old who oddly enough don’t like watching the same television channel at “TV time” – from five to seven every evening.  I am so over Hannah Montana it is scary, even though I love her song “The Climb”, but even more of a problem is that my six year old has absolutely NO patience for my favourite soapy The Bold and the Beautiful and she is tired of seeing who Ridge will marry next – Taylor or Brooke – the same love triangle that has been going on since the very early 80’s.  To me, this is nothing short of fascinating, but not to my daughter.  Clearly two televisions are needed.

Anyhow, I digress.

Along comes Steve, the ever faithful TV man.  Of course I get the questions – “what the hell happened down there?” followed by a statement that I wasn’t sure was a compliment – “but HELL, you are such a BELTER, he was mad to let you go!”  Belter???  I have Googled this and I keep getting told to refine my search criteria.

The TV man did manage to help me in one way, with the actual TV issue I have – this is extremely good news; he also sat down with me over some tea (I am clearly kind to men in the trade and feel obliged to serve them tea) and said quite calmly, “Philippa, it is time to get back on the bike – you need to start dating again”.  My response “Steve I can’t, I am not ready”.  Steve’s response, very directly, “bloody nonsense, of course you are ready”.

I sent Steve on his way, but did spend the day thinking about what he had said.  Am I ready?  What am I afraid of?  In terms of getting “back on the bike” – it just doesn’t seem that easy to me – not only do I now know that a fall off the bike is not only likely, but most likely inevitable; I am also all too familiar with the bruises, scrapes and cuts that come with that fall, and I am just not sure I feel like that.

But the cherry on top was still to be had yesterday.  Returning from a dinner with my favourite taxi driver, Minute (yes, that is his name), I got the twenty questions again, “so Philly, no boyfriend yet?”  My reply, “no, Minute, no boyfriend yet”.  “But why not?” Minute asked.  “Because I am scared Minute”.  Minute then launched into a statement that I found profoundly amusing – “so you want to spend the rest of your life alone, like a dog?”  Suddenly this struck home – like a dog???  I am not sure that dogs are to be classified as beasts that are alone, but it made me somehow feel that perhaps being compared to a dog is not an analogy I am altogether happy with.

And so the moral of the story:  If one chooses to listen to men in the trade, most of which have known me well for a long time, and whom I am inherently honest with – does one follow their advice?  Is it finally time to get onto the bike and out of the kennel?