YOU are Enough

…The time surely comes

When you put yourself first

When you regain your God essence

When you count your blessings

When you honour your sadness

When you give yourself permission to try

When you name your pain

When you stop calling your passion a “hobby”

When you keep your word

When you kick someone out of your emotional bed

When you alienate nasty creatures

When you write thank you notes

When you take more risks

When you stop trusting losers

When you approach people you need

When you say no to darkness

When you yield appropriately

When you say beautiful words of gratitude instinctively

When you sleep for days

When you trust your internal red flags

When you disappoint another heart

When you run your race and let others run theirs

When you clear everything on your vision board and start again

When you no longer mind being called emotional

When you equate self respect with breathing

When you allow yourself to dream again

When you listen to a child

When you let yourself be touched

When you honour your calling

When you travel to places that call you

When you risk humiliation

When you press “reset” on your life

When you accept the shape of the parts you disguise

When you simply say “not today”

When you acknowledge those that guide you

When you start imitating yourself

When you draw a line in the sand

When you empower other people

When you forgive yourself

When you delight in the success of others

When you laugh loud

When you kiss your broken heart

When you are your own role model

When you emulate the speckles of light you see

When you tone down the noise

When you soothe your heart with music

When you dine alone

When you share your struggles

When you own your fears

When you unlearn your defences

…and on that day, may you know that YOU are enough YOU have always been enough YOU will always be enough End of story!

Aluta Continua, I say!  The road is long (for me)

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Two Brothers, Two Stories, One Family

One brother said to the other, “Don’t you wish you were born into a different family?”.

The other brother replied “I was”.

The end.

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The “Brief”

I ordered two young girls.  No, not in a strip club.  I called an agency that dealt with students.

I was organising a large trade show and two of the regular staff members had called-in sick.  I needed backup promo girls.

The brief was simple.  They needed to use their good looks and charm.  Not to get anyone into trouble with their wives. No, just to welcome dignitaries to the event, usher them to their seats and drive alongside them in golf carts twice a day. Simple right?

The first couple of days went well!  The girls were well groomed.  They were professional and I got the feeling that they really understood the integrity of our brand. 

That evening, I saw the girls drinking.  They were off duty, but still at the function.  They were drinking tequila with the important people, and laughing a bit too much for my liking.

As I drove home, I considered that perhaps I was just hormonal.  I had, after all, just spent 15 minutes expressing milk out of my breasts during each lunch break.

The following morning, they were back on the job.  Using their good looks and charm once more.

I heard one of the girls say “We have the best job here. All we have to do is look hot and make the men melt”.  The feminist in me cringed slightly, but I guess they were right.  That was the brief.  Well, I would have settled for something that left out the “melt” bit, but ja, I guess those mama hormones were pretty damn powerful. 

The next morning, one of the girls was in tears!  She was insulted by a text message.  It was from an important client telling her that she was “fat and ugly”.

The HR gurus in our team took over quickly.  They processed the facts and paid due attention to the sensitive young girl.

I was angry.  Angry and sad.

That’s when the other girl appeared in my office. She said “She’s lying”.  She was talking about her colleague.  She claimed that the girl fabricated the text message because “none of the guys like her”. 

I realised there was trouble.  My anger dissipated.  I was just sad. 

I decided to butt out and let the professionals handle the rest of the drama.

But, it left a very bad taste in my mouth.

I didn’t need to know who was right, who lied, who the victim was and who had actually made the girl cry.

The fact is, she was crying.  And, it was about SOMETHING.

So, friends, that got me thinking about the lengths we go to in order to execute “the brief”.    And the position we put other people in when we describe “the brief”.  Because, let’s face it, this story isn’t about whether the girls should have been given a better grounding, whether the men who rule the business world need to change or why sex sells, it really is about boundaries and self-worth.

May every situation you are called to engage in this week, have clear guidelines, crisp boundaries and may your personal mandate always serve the best, and highest version of you.  

Aluta continua, as they say.  The road is still long (for me).

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Car Crash in Tunisia

We were involved in a car crash in Tunisia.  All 15 of us should have died that day.

None of us did.  And ALL of us were shocked.

The bottom line is that even though we survived the burst tyre, the bus continued to spin out control.  It hit a concrete barrier on a highway and put us in the line of another danger.  Oncoming traffic.  It was a horror movie.

We had 4 kids traveling with us.  One of the babies was nursing at her mother’s breast and those screams (and Italian swear words) from the mother still ring in my ear many years on.

Once we managed to get over the danger of the oncoming cars all going 200km/hour, the danger of fire became real.  The bus was smoking and we needed to escape.

That’s when the magic happened.  Our driver, threw off his old grey T-Shirt and changed into his superman cape.  The 60 year old dodged oncoming cars, screaming in Arabic, and ushered each one of us through 3 lanes and safely onto a grass landing.  One by one.  He was calm and gentle.  So in control.  To me, he was a hero!

What a pity, he didn’t FEEL like a hero because once he had evacuated each one of us, he sat down, lit a cigarette and he burst out crying!

Together we watched the smoke engulf the car and destroy his life.  The vehicle was not insured.  It was all he owned.  It was his life.

Once we all regained some level of sanity, we had two concerns, 1. The kids and 2. The groom.  Yes, the groom! We were on our way to his wedding and his bride was concerned with our two hour delay.  He had left his mobile phone in the car and there was no way we could retrieve it.

Today, I am grateful that I have lived to tell the story.  I am grateful for my life.  I am grateful to the 60 year old hero.

As for the wedding, it was amazing!  What a pity they didn’t serve alcohol, because God knows, Tequila mixed with Vodka would have been the real hero of that day.

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

The “Choice” to Listen

They had a history of twisting words.

So, when one of the two girls told me that she was worried about a rumour doing the rounds, I was sceptical.

But, I chose to listen. Simply listen and make no comment. 

Then, the other girl mentioned the same thing to me two weeks later.  She actually called me and said that she “didn’t mean to cause any trouble”. She also told me that she “didn’t like to get involved in other people’s business”.

Both statements were lies.

But again, I chose to listen.  Simply listen and make no comment.

It only occurred to me AFTER the final version of the story was told, how in fact, I had actually entered the plot.

Yes, there were many versions of the “truth” now doing the rounds and yes, I was one of the main characters in the movie.  ME!? The one who had said nothing?   Yes, me!

The thing is, whether I liked it or not, I had entered their story.  I engaged. I participated. Simply by listening. 

Once I accepted that I was part of the plot, I needed to strategise.   The way I saw things, I had two choices:

1. Ignore(and continue to be an UNOFFICIAL cast member in a story where my name was being dragged through the mud)
2. Confront(and become an OFFICIAL cast member in a story where my name was being dragged through the mud)

I chose to ignore it.

And yes, perhaps I have no balls.

Perhaps I am just wise.

Perhaps I know how to pick my battles.

I guess the jury is still out.  Maybe one day I will be able to say with certainty WHY I made the decision I did.

Until then, Aluta Continua, as they say.  The road is still long (for me)

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

How do you know if you can TRUST someone?

My friend asked me,  “So, how do you know if you can trust someone?” and I replied “Well, if you have to ask IF you can trust them, then you already know the answer.  You can’t”.

It was New Years Eve and we were heading to a big party.  She was talking about her boyfriend. I was talking about my philosophy.

I believed it 100%.  For me, trust is absolute.  There is no room for a single doubt. And, in the instances where there was a teeeeeny bit of a doubt in my head, my heart has almost always stepped in and red flagged things for me.

The thing is, I don’t always listen to my heart.

So, I walked into the hairdresser and she looked dodgy.  She looked grumpy, hung over and barely greeted me.  I saw the client who was leaving and thought to myself “Shit, am I about to trust that tart with my hair? That woman’s hair looks fried!” 

It was a trendy hairdresser.  Trendy and bloody expensive.

I went ahead and trusted the “professional”.  My heart could wait.

I heard a timer go off. I stuck my hand up!  She took one look at me and said “Trust me, darling, I don’t need you to help me do my job”.

We both laughed. It was not funny.

My scalp started burning.  I didn’t want to stick my hand up again but I had to! That, or I would have wet my undies.

She walked over and said to the lady who was her assistant “Please wash!” and she rolled her eyes.  As the lady washed my hair, she was making sounds.  Not good sounds.

My hair had melted.  The chunks in the basin felt like spaghetti.  Mushy and white.

When my friend came to collect me, she was in tears. She barely noticed my hair.

She said “Whyyyyy don’t we learn?”

I replied “Yes! Whyyyyy do we trust people when everything in our bodies screams DO NOTTTTTT”. 

She was talking about her boyfriend.  I was talking about the hairdresser.

And, we agreed.  Once you have to ask IF you can trust the person, you bloody-well know that you can not and you should not.  (Or you will end up single on new years eve or with hair that looks like the inside of a donkey’s intestines!)

Aluta Continua, as they say hey? The road is long (for me). Hopefully, I will listen to my own advice one day.

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.