To Be True

You don’t need years to gain wisdom you need experience.

Sometimes we have to experience the same things over and over in the form of failure to learn and evolve.

Life is about choices and we all do the best we can with the knowledge we have. I have had my share of choices, some of which were a disaster.

I started this year with only one resolution.

To be true to myself. To respect myself. To nourish myself.

I think I’ve done a fine job of it so far.

For the first time in my life I have a peace within me. That the work I am doing is in line with my hearts desires. That I can express myself knowing that those expressions reflect the soul inside me.

For the first time I can look myself in the mirror and be happy with the person staring back.

My passion for the mountains is far more than a fleeting crush. I have tested the theory enough to know this with certainty.

I’m not asking anyone to love me, or to understand me. I don’t even understand me.

I am evolving.

Things I Cannot Live Without: Music

I have vivid memories of a long gone era, when I was young and my parents were still married. When evenings were filled with music and dancing.

Some of the most special are of my father singing “Blueberry Hill” by Fats Domino or him crooning to “November Rain” by Guns and Roses. It was no surprise that most of these moments were when he was tipsy, sometimes not. He was a conservative man but through music he awakened. These were the times when he most displayed his affection, either with my mother, myself and my siblings and his extended family.

I remember going to a music festival with him when I was seventeen. Nevermind Oppi Koppi or Splashy Fen, I went to KKNK( the Klein Karoo Nationale Kunstefees – an arts festival in Oudtshoorn). Afternoons consisted of drinking cheap bottles of wine and listening to musicians, young, old, Afrikaans and English. I had to live in a tent for a week nd had to deal with my father trying to bum cigarettes off me as he had recently found out that I was a smoker. He had quit for two years, but that didnt deter him from asking. Being the good daughter I refused him a ciggy everytime.

Although I thought the trip might be boring…afterall I was 17 and a typical rebellious party animal daughter…I took the portunity to spend the little time I could with my dad as my parents were divorced and we didnt spend a lot of quality time with him back then.

Well, it is one I will never forget. Instead of watching me like a hawk he let me do pretty much what I wanted to. If I didnt want to spend tme with him I could walk through the small town of Oudtshoorn dropping in on little art shows and comedians, looking through flea markets and meeting some interesting people.

I remember sunshine and music. Blackie Swart singing “Luwe Lulu” and heaing some David Kramer and Koos Kombuis. I could barely speak Afrikaans back then, hell I stil do a shitty job of it, but it wasnt so much undersanding what they were singing about because it was about feeling.

And music is about feeling.

Music is about laughing and crying, about lifting the spirits or sometimes fueling your anger. The strumming of a guitar and the beat of a drum. A voice singing a tune, someone singing along, the clapping of hands and the movement of feet to tunes.

I remember my darkest moments, lying alone in my bed, the tears streaming like a flood; to the sounds of Pink, or Guns and Roses, or Matchbox 20 or Sara Barielles or Live. Has your heart ever been in so much anguish that you cannot breathe, your chest is caving in and in those moments you are so completely overcome with grief you feel you will die?

Have you ever been at a concert and they play your favourite song. Thousands of people dancing and singing to the same lyrics. Almost as if you are in trance. A feeling of complete elation and bliss that cannot be substitute?

It is true that I love the mountains, but second to the mountains is music. I cannot go long in this “Babylon” without it.

Mafadi – A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Count Em All

Most of the time life blows.

If I look back on the almost 30 years of my life so far most of it was pretty shitty. I can’t lie. My parents divorced when I was young. Most of my school life was trying to fit in which turned out to be a collosal fuck up most of the time.

I was one of those kids that never quite fit in.

Even today I can count the friends I’ve kept from my school days on my one hand.

Yeah I have “friends” on facebook and other social media, but as far as us having seen each other face to face?

Hell, I see myself somewhat socially inept. I don’t know how to deal with others’ crises, I sometimes can’t even handle my own.

I guess that’s typical of a Virgo. Putting things into boxes and then leaving them to gather dust…

Or

…Over analyzing everything to death. Breaking it all down and trying to make sense of it.

I prefer my boxes. Sometimes not dealing with crap, be it mine or someone elses is better than trying to make sense of it.

I don’t know if that makes me a shitty person or friend. I can offer my shoulder, but will it do any good? We all have to dig ourselves out of those pits when the time comes.

One of my fears?

Is being a burden. It’s the constant nagging feeling that I am a drain to those around me as opposed to not being a drain?

I’ve never wanted to be pitied upon, okay, maybe sometimes, my sister knows all about those moments.
Hey, sometimes its nice to have a pity party alright?

I love being social, I love having a good time with people, but sometimes I still feel like the “outsider” looking in.
It’s sometimes easier being a recluse. Lying in bed until past 2pm, reading, dozing, just being anti social.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t question everything. Sometimes I wish I could’ve been happy with my white picket fence.

No questioning, routine, a mediocre life, a comfortable income. What more could anyone want?

Well apparently I wanted more.

And then I realize that I am exactly where I want to be.

The friends that I have, I know they have my back. The job that I have, pretty fucking awesome.

I have the most beautiful child in the world, and as much as I hate it when at almost five she is giving me shit… She is independent, happy, fiesty, questioning and kind.

Every time I see her smile I know I have so far done something right.

I’m happy to be me, just plain old me.

And yeah, most of my life has blown, but the last two years have been pretty fantastic, and its getting better.

So in those sucky moments, when things are fucking you over. Have a look at how far you’ve come.

Hey…you haven’t offed yourself so it can’t be that bad.

Count those little blessings, because, in the end, they are the big blessings.

Things I Cannot Live Without: Goose In Boots

Pierre Cardin black leather Cowboy Boots that is.

These were the first items I bought with the first salary I’d made in over seven years. I had just moved out of my marital home and it was the first time I had ever lived alone.

I remember being nervous and excited at the concept. For the first time in my life I would be living by my rules. I no longer had to compromise with a significant other. I was at last truly alone to make my own decisions.

And the first decision was my Cowboy Boots.

I only remember wanting to buy a pair of boots for winter. Any boots really. But as I walked into the shoe store it was fate that led me to the farthest aisle, where boxes and boxes of gleaming cowboy boots were lined up ahead of me. It took all of five minutes to have the boots on my feet, paid for and me out the door.

Looking back the boots became a second skin. They went with me everywhere I went. To work and back, to friends, to clubs and pubs, to the local park with my daughter, on dates, whilst zip lining in the Magaliesburg to having passed out in them a couple of times too.

It didn’t matter what I wore them with either. Dresses, skirts, denims and shorts. Hell in the peak of summer I wore them, regardless of what my feet smelled like after.

My boots had such a reputation that my friends and family merely had to glance down at them and know that it was going to be another wild day out with the goose.

Well if those boots could talk…

They’ve seen their share of better days, I’ve had to glue the soles once already, the tips and heels are well worn in and the leather no longer gleams new but is a beautiful soft dull black that can only come with lots of use.

I’ve considered replacements. But it would be sacrilege.

The boots are no merely shoes or a fashion statement. They are as much a part of me as the name Goose is.

It’s a marking of an era.

Not only that but they were there giving me the confidence to meet new people. They were my self esteem when I had none.

When I wore them I was no longer Romaigne, failed wife with nothing going for her, mousy blonde hair and pale skin, shrinking violet with no personality.

I became the Goose, the loud opinionated funny hooligan that made friends where ever she went. The one that everyone stared at and thought “Is she Crazy?”. The Goose never had self esteem issues, the world was her oyster and her eternal optimism shone through and past everything else.

The fairy tale of Goose In boots is not without it’s drama. The Goose became the unstoppable alter ego that had no limits.

It had a life of its own, where Romaigne had to look on helplessly as the Goose did one destructive thing after another in the name of experience. Hurting people and herself in the process.

But how could I take off the boots, turn into the wall flower I used to be?
I didn’t want to lose that part of myself.

For in those first few days and weeks and months of freedom those boots were there for me when I was alone at home. They gave me courage to speak to my friends and colleagues. They gave me strength to stand up for myself during my divorce and they allowed me to let loose a the spirit that had been locked away inside myself throughout my married years.

It took a long time to realize that the Goose was not the only reason that I had friends or self confidence. That deep down inside I knew it was all me.

I didn’t have to be wild, with or without them. I had to look beyond the boots and be true to myself. I had to make the decision to pack the boots away. If not for a little while, to get back to me.

No all Goose and not all Romaigne. But somewhere in between.

I still love my boots, and it will be a cold day in hell before I get rid of them, but they no longer define me or dictate who I am.

The Goose In Boots

I Knew I Shouldn’t Have Watched It

I wasn’t going to write today, I woke up with the greatest intention of NOT writing. I wanted to prove a point. I wanted to be unaffected. I wanted to hide away from the questions that had been raised and the answers that came to me. I didn’t want to face the truth. I wanted to lie and pretend that I hadn’t been kicked upside the head by a tiny little thing that took two hours of my time.

 

But I had to write: writing, for me, is breathing. I cannot not write because I need to make sense of it, even if it’s in my own crazy messed up way, and even if it is only me that understands, even when it hurts like hell, even if it exposes me to the world. If perhaps I put it onto paper, or into cyber space, that it’ll be okay. That my universe will stop shaking, that it will balance again.

Sometimes our most profound moments are our most painful moments, and our most painful moments the most profound.

And this is how it started:

“We all come from the sea, but we are not all of the sea.

We children of the tides must return to it again and again.”

 

This is how the film, Chasing Mavericks, begins.

And that’s when the tears began.

 

The film, based on a true story, follows the journey of a young man, a
young man, whose mission it is to surf the worlds’ biggest waves.

 

A surfing movie that had me in tears from beginning to end.

 

Literally.

 

And I hated it.

 

Every single minute of it.

 

I am not of the sea. I don’t have to be of the sea to understand the universal truth that was spoken in those few words.

 

My truth:

 

“We all come from the mountains, but we are not all of the mountains.

We children of the hills must return to them again and again.”

 

When asked why he wanted to go back to Everest, George Mallory replied:

 

“Because it is there”.

 

 

John Marsden, in Killing Frost wrote:

“I’m a person of the mountains and the open paddocks and the big empty sky, that’s me, and I knew if I spent too long away from all that I’d die; I don’t know what of, I just knew I’d die.”

 

You know in your heart, that when you have found it, when it resonates with your soul, that it isn’t wrong and neither is it right. It is all that you are and all that you will ever be. It is coming home to yourself.

 

I’ve looked at photo’s that have been taken of me only a few short months ago and I no longer recognize that person. I see a ghost, an apparition, a shadow of the person I am today. But that person, that shadow was a necessary evil. For if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t be here now.

 

Yes, I am a child of the mountains.

 

Back to that Godforsaken movie with its’ infernal drop kicks to the psyche:

 

The Four Pillars of Humanity: Physical, Mental, Emotional and Spiritual, which we should strive to balance in our lives. If there is imbalance it may crumble.

Yes, we need to have balance, but I don’t think that all four pillars will all be the exact same size or shape at anyone given time. We can strive for balance but I think we live more in a state of compensation. If we are physically weak, perhaps mental strength compensates. If we are lacking spiritually we make up for it with physical strength. This applies to all four pillars. And I think I can safely say that we are all trying to make up for the emotional in some way or another.

It’s easy to build physical strength and you can feed your mind and build mental acuity and as for the spiritual, well we live for spirituality. Emotions are difficult to deal with.

 

Emotions are where your monsters lie, at least my monsters, and I bury them deep. It’s the current that flows below the surface of a smooth sea, a turbulence that no one can see but is strong enough to sweep you forever away.

 

The strongest emotion: FEAR.

 

It is what drives you and debilitates you.

 

Can I face my demons? Can I face what I really fear?

 

I can tell you all of the bravest things I done. I can tell you what I am not afraid of. I didn’t even have a clear image of what I am afraid of until this stupid movie.

 

I have certain fears that come and go, that perhaps I won’t be able to make the next climb, or that I may fail in a competency exam, or I get a glimpse of a spider out of the corner of my eye.

 

But those fears are physical and they are quickly overcome. The debilitating fears I have are there somewhere inside me. They stop me from doing a lot of things I may have done. They are the reason why I am only living my life now. Even as we speak they almost cripple me when I have choices to make.

 

And if I said them aloud, if I revealed them to anyone, for me that would be unleashing all the Beasts of Pandora’s Box. And I am not ready to open that up. Not yet. I am not yet ready to deal with the repercussions of a thousand demons wreaking havoc in my little universe.

All of this hurts…it affects every pillar…but for now I compensate. And if I can acknowledge that, then I guess it’s a start in the right direction.

 

I can’t stand being vulnerable. 

I can’t stand being defeated.

 

But I leave you with these words from that movie:

 

“The people who push the limits sometimes discover the limits push back”.

 

And that isn’t a bad thing.

 

My Home

“What is it that has drawn me to the mountains?” I ask myself time and again.

I have spoken of the beauty of the rolling landscapes of the Drakensberg. The sound of the winds that caress my face as I look upon the eternity of velvet green slopes and basalt faces below me as I stand rapt at the very edge of the Amphitheatre.

I am in love with the challenge, yes, but that isn’t all of it. The cold and the wet, the heat and the sweat. My body aching for the physical exertion. No it isn’t only that.

It isn’t even the solitude. Nor the fact that I am far away from society and traffic and noise and people and stress and people. That up there I am able to think clearly, that I can reflect without the interruption of television or phones or talking. It isn’t that either.

“What is it that has drawn me to the mountains?”

The mountains look upon me with no judgement, they embrace me for who I am. I have no secrets to keep from the peaks and the valleys. The mountains know me intimately, they know my strengths and weaknesses and like a lover the mountains draw out of me a wholeness that cannot be substituted. The mountains listen with compassion, they have heard my cries for absolution, they have felt my rolling tears of anguish. They have comforted me as I have stared into the oblivion.

When I am in the loving arms of the mountain I am no one else but me, no pretence, no putting on a face for the crowds. What I am in society is merely a mask but up there in the folds of earth my soul flourishes.

The mountain is more than a friend or lover, more than a mother and more than a father.

The mountain is my solitude. The mountain is my nothing. The mountain is home. The mountain is my eternity.

My heart no longer resides within this body of mine. The mountain has claimed it and will forever keep it.

My home is not of bricks and mortar but of grass and stone, wind and water.

My home is the mountain, where my heart is, where I belong.

 

Humbled

Every time I go to the mountains I learn a little bit more about myself, about people and the world at large.

This time was no different  as I accompanied the Mountain Man to the Amphitheatre with a group of six young men on an overnight hike.

I had to navigate and did pretty well until I tried to take them up an excuse of a gully. I hadn’t checked the Gps device that I was given. I came back down a little flustered and apologetic, in future this will teach me to make use of the equipment on hand.

 We arrived at the correct gully,  a steep slope with loose rock, not to be taken lightly. Here I was overtaken by most of the men as they did the gully quickly and with little effort as most of them were having idle conversation with each other. I, on the other hand, was exerted to 100%, I had to push harder than I have had to in a long time. I reached the top out of breath and exhausted. But the views of the Drakensberg from the top were so breathtaking that any feelings of exertion quickly faded.

We quickly got to camp, made up our accommodations for the night and were able to spend a good few hours relaxing or enjoying the surroundings. The guys decided on a swim in one of the pools that had formed in the river. I sat with them for a few minutes but then, after feeling like a salacious old lady, I took a walk a little further up were I could view the waterfall, the mountains, the azure blue skies. Here I contemplated my surroundings and life in general while lying on a rock, allowing the sun to drench me head to toe with its brilliant rays.

Being up there admiring all that was around me I couldn’t help but feel a tide of serenity flowing over me. It’s been a while since I haven’t felt the need or the urge to speak or to do and for those few hours I did as little as possible….and no….it wasn’t because I was trying to keep up with a crew of very fit men that were keen on out doing each other at every turn.

The stars that evening were phenomenal, the Milky Way was at its brightest and I doubt that I have ever before seen so many. Whilst we were standing admiring them the Mountain Man mentioned that we are but grains of sand in an expanding universe.

Of the billions of stars out there that we see, there are many more billions that we do not see.

There’s a galaxy, the Milky Way and in that galaxy is our Solar system, of which we are on one planet, Earth, which consists of continents, and countries and provinces and states and the towns and suburbs and homes and eventually there is you, one of 16 billion other humans.

Knowing this can make one feel pretty small and insignificant but each human being is a universe on their own.

We have our bodies and within our bodies are organs and they are made up of cells and in those cells are molecules and they can be broken up into atoms which are protons and electrons and furthermore there is the space in between.

We are even hosts to many species of micro organisms that live on our skin and in our bodies(good human microbiome if you don’t believe me). And to those organisms their universe is your body and mine and everyone elses.

So, as we expect the Sun to shine for us so these organisms expect our hearts to keep pumping. How we treat and what we do with our bodies affect billions of microbes that actually help us live. In turn what we do to our planet effects it and what happens on one planet can effect the solar system…..therefore in the end the Universe at large.

And what’s that space in between?  That space is the glue that connects, everything that was and everything that will be, it shifts out of form and into form, some call it God, small call it the Great Spirit. It is what makes flowers grow, it is what makes the lions roar and it is what makes us, as humans feel.

So do what will make your body strong, do what your soul yearns to do, feed your mind with everything you’ve wanted to learn. Our awareness gives us the opportunity to choose to do great things (and the trillion little guys that are depending on you).

It is only once we learn how to nourish mind body and soul that we can nourish others(including those trillions of little guys inside you).

Getting back to the hike:

After a few hours sleep the sun rose over the plateau and  kissed us all awake. It was chilly outside but the cold was invigorating and refreshing and after breakfast, caffeine and another walk amongst the landscape we were all toasty warm.

One of the most pleasing experiences was seeing the wonder and awe in the faces of six men, who, for some, were witnessing the grand majesty of the Drakensberg. Stretching out to the left and right unmoving and immense. Not only were they sharing a number one experience with one another but with something bigger than all of us.

Still I cannot even begin to wrap my head around the behemoth that is the Drakensberg. It never fails to take my breath away, never fails to give me hope, never fails to give me perspective. Never fails to open my mind and stretch it far beyond my comprehension.

And as people we encourage and support each other… we are all there for one another.

Even when we came down the mountains, where defeated I walked through the gates behind all the other men, and when the Mountain Man had a chuckle at expense…I was upset and I wanted to throw a tantrum. The competitive spirit in me was most definitely lying on the ground kicking and screaming worse than a two year old toddler in a Supermarket.

But, as with the gully there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance and it’s been a while since I’ve been humbled.

No, I am not Wonder Woman. I am only human. I have faults. I get angry and moody, I get tired and I get stressed. But I can do something about all of these things. I will never be perfect, but I can take these experiences and make them work for me or learn something from them.

And to round up:

Never forget your toothpaste(especially if you’re planning to drink)
Let Go(unless you’re abseiling)
Ask for Directions(and if that fails have a peek at the Gps at your disposal)
Expect the Unexpected(but if the unexpected it expected is it still unexpected?)
If you’re a girl take every opportunity to go to the loo( or you’ll walk a few good km’s to find a convenient rock or bush).
If it looks too easy it probably is(especially when it comes to a Gully).
Always take thermals(nights are pretty chilly without them).

And lastly…

Watch out for head injuries…you never know when one will come up.

http://www.souladventures.co.za/hiking-trails-south-africa

Natural or Silicone?

I am a little confused. I think I might be drunk, but I can’t recall drinking in the last few days. I am still trying to figure it out myself and but I think it has a little to do with the mountains and being batshit crazy.

What is it you may ask?

Well, in short it has to do with my boobs, my mammary glands, my tits or in fact the lack thereof.

When the Dear Lord was handing out those puppies it appears I was nowhere to be found and so I am without an impressive cleavage.

This has been a thorn in my side for years. Having to buy “A” size bras’ and relying on the one and only Wonderbra your entire life is not all that fun, especially when faced with confrontations with men.

And so it has been my one wish that someday I would be able to buy myself a pair of well rounded beautiful silicone breasts. Not too big certainly but enough of an improvement that no one would have to go on a search party to look for my breasts. That someday a man might actually look me in the boobs as opposed to my eyes.

This is far from a self esteem issue. It isn’t that I cannot live my life without one but simply put:

When we buy cars we “Pimp” them out. We want our cars to look good as a symbol of status. It’s part of looking good. Hell, if you can afford to drive a Ferrari would you not buy one of them as opposed to a Ford Focus. So I believed in the same principle with my body. If you can afford to improve then why not.

It had already been decided…I was going to get my babies as soon as I could afford them. There was no questioning this decision, it had already been made. Signed, Sealed but not quite delivered.

But then this morning when the idea was put forward to me, where it might actually be possible to have the  D Cups I have so desperately longed for I wasn’t moved.

Don’t get me wrong, the idea is nice. Quite like the thought of a cup of tea, which is nice. You can have a cup of tea, but you don’t have to. I can have a boob job, but I don’t have to.

In fact a boob job at this time may be more of a hindrance to me and where I would like to go than helpful.

It is no great secret that I am in love with the mountains and all that they are. And with that comes strenous exercise, rock climbing and the great outdoors. And do a fake pair of boobies belong up there in the misty mountains, in a game vehicle in the middle of the Pilanesberg, or pressed against the sheer face of a rocky cliff? They don’t belong there as much as Paris Hilton belongs in a charity store.

Nevermind the fact that you aren’t able to partake in strenous physical activity for I think a month or six weeks…and there is no way I am going to let that happen right now. I have already booked a trip to the highest peak in South Africa which just so happens to be in Six Weeks(and yes…the nervess have kicked in!)

Besides, I already have over 8 pairs of Wonderbras’ that I would have to throw out if I got my fake titties. And a Wonderbra is not cheap I tell you.

And somewhere along the way, whilst I was following my heart, finding my passion and climbing mountains(where there is no room for modesty) I became comfortable with the pair of breasts I was given.

They may not be big but they’re mine, and for me they are perfect.

 

A Brand New Goose

Let’s cut to the chase.

In the last few weeks I’ve climbed a few mountains…visited a game park, resigned from my corporate job and havent had much time at all to blog!

Yip, after a the previous Berg Experience, I went back to corporate an entirely different but not entirely different person. I’ve always wanted the same things but I have been too damn scared to do them. Too many of us are taught from a young age that we need to hold on to a 8 to 5 job for security and and and…we do so and we abandon our dreams so that we can make money and be secure and die when when we reach pension.

And in so doing we teach our own children to do the same thing.

After the berg I realized I am not getting younger, that my body will not be as strong as it now and my mind will all too soon go settle back into it’s comfort zone.

I needed to be reminded of most of this by our entripid leader on top of that mountain, Darren the Mountain Man, owner of Soul Adventures.

http://www.souladventures.co.za/mountaineering/climb-kilimanjaro/conquer-fear

After all that has happened it came like a giant slap in the face:

GOOSE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOUDOING WASTING YOUR TIME IN CORPORATE?

What are you doing sitting behind a desk typing out figures that in the end don’t mean anything to you?

Why are you beating the same drum dat in and day out…with nothing to show for it but a meager salary?

No one is going to write on your tomb that you were an awesome employee.

It took less than 5 days for me to choose a life truly worth living. it meant giving up “security”.

But to follow a dream…I now realize that that security was a non existant straight jacket. One created to keep me from being the person I really am. It isn’t the world that conspires against you. It is you that conspires against you. And once you drop all the bullshit and look at what YOU REALLY WANT…there is no way you can go back to the person you were. And there is the magic. That’s is when you KNOW you can never look back. And in front of you doors open where they were once closed(only in your mind of course).

My life went from “someday” to NOW!

I’ve never been happier.

FOLLOW YOUR BLISS.

And mine…well if you havent been keeping up…is climbing mountains.