Pick Your Battles (A story about standing up)

It was lunchtime and I was hungry. I was rushing past the two Manchester United T-Shirts and the whiff from their cigarettes seemed to add to my hunger. One guy said “what are we chowing brother?”  The other responded “I wanna chow that…nice and juicy!”

 

They both laughed as they watched me walk down a longggggggggggg, dark passage that seemed to go on forever.

 

I knew what they were trying to do. I hadn’t been in a situation like that for a long time, but I certainly had not forgotten my old friend “harassment”.

 

I could have turned around.

I could have confronted them.

I could have humiliated them.

I could have humiliated myself too, actually. 

 

But I was hungry.

So, I kept walking.

Defeated.

 

After paying my bill, a young woman’s red shoes caught my attention.  I also noticed the two Manchester United T-Shirts vying for her attention.

 

She turned around.

She took their compliments to heart.

They invited her to join them and together, they had a lovely time knocking back blue shooters.

 

As the waitress brought my bill, one of the men tapped a cleaner on her shoulder saying “excuse me, do you like big or small bananas?”

“Bananas?” she asked, genuinely missing their crudeness.

The girl with the hot bum laughed loud, further adding to the cleaner’s embarrassment. The cleaner was an old woman, with her head covered, wearing a church badge I recognised.

 

I turned around.

I confronted them.

I humiliated them.

I humiliated myself too, actually.

 

But there could have been no other way.

 

So I kept walking.

Conflicted

 

…but completely assured that yes we need to pick our battles, but some battles pick us and give us zero choice but to engage.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. 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.

Reflections on Mama Karma through 3 generations

 

My daughter is beginning to get embarrassed by me. Not by anything I do/say/wear or how I use my hands to eat. Just ME. The whole package. Even when I am silent and using a knife and fork to eat pizza.

 

There’s a blush beginning to develop. A very faint pink flush but it’s there all right. It’s there and I know it well.

 

From experience.

 

It really brings into focus my relationship with my own mother, who was a non-conformist of note. And while I can be a real people-pleaser, never wanting to cause any waves, she was very much the opposite.  

 

She would embarrass me constantly too. Not by anything she did/said/wore (well sometimes the Converse trainers and expletives were a bit much) or how she smoked with the young girls while her peers drank tea in a circle saying the rosary. No, just by being herself. 

 

And history will judge us both.

 

Me for being me, slightly too teacher’s pet, always wondering how I can change/ tone down/conform.

 

And her for daring to stand out.

 

As for my daughter, the blush still needs to mature to a deep red, I’m afraid. I mean, what’s a childhood if not filled with cringe worthy moments unwittingly created by our parents? That’s karma right?

 

Hopefully by the time my sweet girl becomes an adult, her reflections and experience of the “blush”, will guide her to a place where she too can just BE. You know, just be herself, with the full appreciation that we are all different, all the same….and that’s wonderful.

 

Now shhhh, don’t tell her this BUT if she leans a little more towards the nature of her rebel of a gran, then that means my work is done.

 

That will be karma too. A fate I will gladly accept.

 

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. 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.

What’s YOUR story (Mine is about GRATITUDE)

Every heart has a story to tell. My story is about Gratitude.

 

….You see, I used to be a selfish girl.  I wrote stories but I did not share them. In 2009, Lady Fate – in all her wisdom – decided to change that.  I suffered a major concussion that resulted in me losing my senses of smell and taste.   During the reflective days after that curveball, something in my soul stirred.  My selfish girl days were numbered.

 

I tuned in to the soulcall to share and was rewarded generously: I developed superpowers. Yes, superpowers!  I realised that:

My loss of smell forced me to use my ears more.

So, I started to listen.  Really listen.

My loss of taste forced me to use my eyes more.

So, I started to see. Really see. 

It occurred to me that on the road to recovery, I had developed a special set of skills using instinct, intuition, vibrations, feelings, nuances. My 2 dull senses heightened the 3 fully functional ones.  Those superpowers were my biggest gift as a writer.  They made for some powerful storytelling.

 

So began my journey to publishing my writing.  My stories translated into emotions.  The emotions connected hearts and magic began to happen.

I followed the magic.

I let my heart guide me.

I had no idea where the road would lead me.

I simply put one foot in front of the other and kept writing.

 

Before I knew it, I had penned my soon to be published debut novel. I screamed “thank you!” and then sat down to write some more.

 

And, you know what?  It’s true what they say!  All the universe does conspire to help the one who dares to follows their heart. I believe this 100% and so should YOU!

 

Aluta continua, as they say.  I wish you the courage to tell the story that only YOU can tell too.

 

!NEWSFLASH:  In the next few weeks I will FINALLY be able to share with you the dates for my book release and I am beyonddddddddddddddddd excited.   Thank you for listening with open hearts, for connecting, for engaging. Thank you for helping make my dreams come true.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. 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 a DUSTBIN schooled me (A Lesson in Self-Worth)

I had been shoving things into my kitchen dustbin for 2 days over a long weekend. I pushed down hard each time.  Every item that went in I noted would be the last thing that would fit. But lo and behold, the old cow of a dustbin was a dark horse. She had lots more capacity for crap than I had given her credit for. She had a BIG Inbox for rubbish. I was happy.

 

She got me thinking:

Isn’t it amazing how much crap (aka bullshit) we accept?

Isn’t it funny how much shit we think we’re made to take?

Isn’t it fascinating how much grime, dust, dirt and other people’s nonsense we’re open to receiving?

Isn’t it interesting how we take more and more and more and more pushing when we’re already sick of it? 

 

When Monday afternoon rolled around, I knew that there were only a couple more hours to go before the long weekend was over.

 

My dustbin was acting up. Big time.  The cow was getting cocky. Pushing back at me.  I tried a pizza box, but she resisted.  I tried something more eco and diet friendly, but she wasn’t accepting the old tofu (don’t ask!) either.  Stupid tart!

Again, she got me thinking:

Isn’t it amazing how our tolerance for crap (aka bullshit) decreases as time goes on?

Isn’t it true that our capacity for rubbish shrinks with time?

Isn’t it beautiful how much grime, dust, dirt and other people’s issues we just close off to? 

Isn’t it magical how we simply take less and less and less pushing when we’ve had enough?

 

I decided to deal with the rebellious dustbin in the old fashioned way: I decided to ignore her.  I left her to deal with her own “issues” of boundaries, self-worth, value, dignity. I knew better than to mess with a cow who has had enough!

 

Allow me to wish you strength in dealing with your own capacity for bullshit too.  It’s a dirty business, but let’s face it, the more shit you take, the more shit you will get.  Only YOU can decide when enough is really enough and when is the moment you decide to cancel your subscription to the circus casting call.

 

Aluta continua, as they say. The road to calling that “end” is often a tad too long…

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. 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 a piece of gum taught me 5 Important Life Lessons

I had a feeling the waiter saw me stick my spearmint gum under the table. Our eyes locked for two long seconds. The unholy mental rendezvous made me blush a little but that moment was quickly interrupted by a woman screaming “I will kill youuuuuuu!”

 

Damn, some people can over react, I thought! Whatever happened to threatening a punishment befitting the crime? 

 

Fortunately, I was not the one she wanted to kill. Nor was the waiter, thank goodness.

 

The object of her fury was a man in a car. Crazy was lying on top of the bonnet with her granny knickers on display for the whole parking lot to see.  She was using one windscreen wiper to hold on to. Her free hand was swiping the other wiper viciously through half an open window into the frightened man’s face. I had no doubt that she wanted to kill him and his eyes told me that he knew that too. (Eye contact! Why on why did I go there?)

 

Security arrived quite quickly and it was then that I saw two little blonde heads rise and quickly dip back onto the backseat. There were kids in that car and our eyes had locked for just two long seconds, contracting me into the story even more. 

 

From sheer nervousness, I reached under my table and began to play with “my” gum. It started to make my fingers smell sweet. Grape! Grape! That smell was grape. Who even buyssssss grape gum?

 

And that was the first and only time I wanted to kill someone too. I want to kill myself. Eeeew!

 

Now please let’s not get clever and ask “what’s the moral of the story?”…because we all know it is bloody clear as daylight: 

 

1. Don’t do stupid shit
2. If you do do stupid shit, do not make eye contact
3. If you do make eye contact, you enter a contract
4. Contracts are usually one sided and generally once you’re in, you’re in
5. Your mom was right about wearing good underwear (just in case)

 

 

And oh yes, there are crazy people everywhere. Some want to kill. Others buy grape gum. Be warned.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. 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.