Confession: I’ve been taking drugs (A story about AFFIRMATIONS)

“Thank you”

“I see what you do”

“That can’t be easy”

“You sacrifice so much”

“Please rest”

“I trust you”

“How can I help you?”

“I see your pain”

“Relax”

“No one can replace you”

“I need you”

“What do you need?”

“You matter”

 

Imagine hearing those words daily.

Imagine someone saying them to you every single day.

Imagine how you would feel.

Imagine what you could and would do.

 

Can you even fathom the surge of energy that would flood your veins?

Can you even fathom the motivation?

The adrenaline?

The sudden surge of dopamine, serotonin and all the other hormones that would overflow in your bloodstream?

 

You could?

So can I!

 

And you wanna know something else? It’s top secret. You can administer all those drugs to yourself daily. No prescription required. All you need is a mirror.

 

 

And you know what else?!

The results are fantastic!

 

I speak from experience.
AFFIRMATIONS

Dosage            :          1 phrase daily in the morning on an empty stomach

Side Effects    :           Happiness, Confidence, Motivation

Warning          :          This drug is highly effective, highly addictive

 

Aluta continua as they say.  Let’s work gently to give ourselves the gift of the words we most need to hear.

 

Today is the perfect day to start!

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

lovelee

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.

To Listen or NOT to listen

It was nearly Christmas.

Everyone was talking about their holiday plans. Most were going skiing in Europe and then back to South Africa for a beach holiday over New Year.

I could not even thinkkkkkk of taking leave. Firstly, I had only joined the company a month or two earlier and secondly, the most junior person on the team always stayed put. I accepted my fate maturely.

About 3 days before Christmas, and on the last real shopping day, I got the call I had been waiting for. I was free to pack up early and go home. I was elated.

I planned to light a candle for my deceased granny (old tradition), pick up my Christmas pudding from my mom, book my Secret Santa Girls Lunch and finally get all the little gifts for my family. I was excited.

As I was driving out of my office, I got a call. It was from a colleague. She needed my “help”. 

I listened. 

She had a deadline to meet and was not going to make it.

I listened some more.

She explained that she had loads of “important” things to do.

I continued to listen.

She had gifts to buy, cocktails with friends, carols by candlelight and oh yes, a spa day. She simply had “no time” to do her work and she wanted me to do it. It was a 5-day job that required working over Christmas in order to meet a submission deadline.

She sensed my energy dip, so she added something extra. She explained that she had already talked to the CEO of the company and “cleared things” with him.

She ended her pitch by adding that she thought that I “wouldn’t mind” because I had “nothing exciting to do anyway”.

I stopped listening. My ears just stopped playing ball. 

For a moment, the CEO ploy flashed across my mental dashboard as I envisioned beautiful gold stars next to my name and a promotion. Fortunately, that shit didn’t last long. I came to my senses. Quickly too.

I said “I can’t help, I’m afraid” and when she said “And why not?” I said “Ear trouble”. 

I did!  I could have high-fived myself right there, I must say!

I hung up and went to light that damn candle. 

© 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.

Tequila Girl vs Action Girl (Choices)

We arrived in Dar es Salaam on a Friday.  It was a girl’s holiday and we were heading to the beautiful island of Zanzibar.

The scenery was magical. Turquoise water, white sand, tanned bodies, spices, sunshine and the prospect of endless cocktails.

Just when I thought that the day could not get any better, the hotel set up a solo dinner table IN the shallow water of a beautiful private beach, at sunset.  And right before I was about to die from sheer bliss, I learnt that the menu for the night included spicy prawns, grilled before my eyes.  We were in the land of spices and I wanted to cry! Haleeluuuuuia!

The next morning, we decided to go local. We ditched the tourists from our resort and went exploring.

Before we left, I met a girl in the loo.  Her face was bust up. Black eye, swollen lips, cut on her eyebrow.  My instincts told me not to trust her and NOT to make eye contact.  She said “clumsy me! Too much tequila last night”.  She told me that she had fallen down the stairs in her drunken state.  I have been acquainted with tequila a few times in my life.  Not as well as her, but still – I knew its power.

My friends laughed when I told them about her.  They had heard from the guy cleaning our room that there had been a domestic abuse drama.  “Same old story!” he said to them.

That night we went dancing. I saw the girl.  She was drunk.  She was dancing with a group of guys.  One guy had his arm around her.  I figured he was the baddie. What an idiot, I thought. 

I was glued. I could not stop staring.

When they moved to another bar, I said to my friends “Hey! Let’s go next door.  I love the sound of the music there”. They bought it.  We moved and I positioned myself strategically.

Now, one of my friends is an ACTION girl.  She is driven by her heart and when she is confronted with a situation where she feels that there is an injustice, she acts. Mostly its heroic but there are also times when it isn’t very pretty.  I did not want her involved in my movie. I needed to act cool.

Now, acting cool got hard when she saw me talking to security. She knew that something was up.  She said “What are you doing? It’s that girl hey!?” and as much as I tried to deny that I even remembered the girl, Action Girl saw right through me.  She said “don’t tell me you believe her story?”

I had zero chill.

Action Girl said :

“Look, you have two choices: 

  1. I help you get to the bottom of this shit 
  2. You forget about this shit.

BUT we can NOT spend our holiday with you obsessed with some drunk hooker who invents stories of an abusive husband to scam strangers, steal their money, their boyfriends and their memories of their dream holiday.

Make the choice”. 

I chose option 2.   More out of fear of Action Girl in scenes from Option 1.

I decided to honour my company and resist the pull from the drama magnet, filled with its lies and deceit.

I chose instead to order more spicy prawns and a Long Island Ice Tea (with a little tequila because I was still on drama-detox and had to slowly let go of the memory of Tequila Girl).

© 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.

Regrets Come in The Morning

Each morning he woke up before his children.

He walked straight to the coal stove and lit the fire.  The water that he boiled was sacred.  First, he used it to cleanse himself, then he watered the garden with the dirty remains. His mother’s ashes were buried in the garden.  Their souls connected each morning.

He was a proud father. 

When his girls woke up, their porridge was ready, their shoes were polished and their lunches made.

They had all archived the previous day’s indiscretions and together they prayed for protection and blessings.  

Each new day brought new hope.  They hoped that no one would remind them of the ugly sights and sounds that permeated the neighbourhood air and he hoped that he could be strong and resist the call to the bottle. 

By noon each day, those hopes stood no chance.

They had to walk past the pub on their way home.  He always saw them.  They pretended that they did not see him.

While the other children played freely, their minds were always on what evening would bring.

Sunset brought feelings of fear mixed with fatigue.  It was quite a nice combination.  After all, it meant that the end of the horror show was near.

They would hear him coming from two blocks away.  Cursing and hissing with each step.  They said nothing to each other.  There was no point.

As he entered their home, he hung his pride at the door. 

God only knows that sort of beatings they endured.  From the sound of it, a life sentence would have been too lenient a punishment for him. The silence that followed was worrying.  The walls stored those sounds, tainting its memory for eternity.

By morning, the coal stove was ready to serve again and he was ready to cleanse again – just as he had watched his father do all those ugly years before.

Both girls ran away from home when they were in their teens.

The older sister ran straight into the arms of a man just like her father. The beatings and booze were warm and familiar.  When she finally found the strength to leave him, she threw herself into perfecting her art as an actress.  Her ability to go inside the head of the characters she plays is magical to watch.

The younger sister found solace in travel.  She never stays in one place long enough to become emotionally attached. She practices as an intuitive healer, going around the world to help people heal their pasts to gain control over their futures.

As for the man, time has faded his memory.   The framed pictures of a family holiday taken 40 years earlier hangs strategically in the entrance to his room at the nursing home.  They look like every other happy family at Christmas time. When strangers ask him about the girls in matching red dresses, he simply says “I did my best for them. I hope they know that”.  

So friends, I wish you love on your journey to healing and growth too. The idea is that when we know better, we ought to do better, right?  Aluta Continua, I say!

© 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.