I had a really crap job as a dog’s body at an insurance company in Rosebank many years ago. It was right upstairs from Fournos — a fast-food-style deli and bakery.
One of my jobs was to archive old claim files. From my spot on the dirty grey carpet, the faces of the happy people who had just bought their takeaway coffee and croissants were not really visible, but I saw the way they walked and that’s what I wanted! Freedom.
I remembered this chapter of my life this morning while sitting at the very Fournos. I’d say it’s about 18 years later. I can still picture the unsure girl that used to hate her job and the grey carpet.
My dream was to move into my own office at the insurance company but life took me in another direction. One morning, I took the risk of meeting a recruiter at Fournos. She offered me a temp position at a new IT firm for triple the salary. The only catch was that it was not permanent. I would stand in for someone going on maternity leave.
My instinct is always to say YES. So, I did.
The next thing I had to do was talk to my boss. I was sure I could catch him before his “secret” (not so secret since she told everyone) lover closed the door for their daily meeting.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he said. Ah, those famous words I hate so much; usually a pre-cursor to some bullshit.
“Sure,” I replied.
“I would not hire you. You are too young and…well, you are not good enough.”
I prepared a resignation letter the next day and asked HR to let me use my leave in lieu of notice.
“That won’t be necessary,” HR told me. “Here are the calculations for your retrenchment package.”
I did not know it was coming.
I used the cash to buy a new car and drove into my new job like a mother-bleep.
I always feel like laughing (I don’t!) when someone tells me I “inspire” them. It happened just yesterday.
Are you off your f$ing rocker? You really need to raise your standards, I always think. Here I am, with my overgrown under-arms, a dent in my car (shhhh, don’t tell the hubs – it literally just came back from the shop when I scratched it again) and a mountain of unopened bills. I haven’t had the time to clean out my daughter’s school bag this week and yes – you guessed it – the smell this morning led me straight to rotten pear. Yip, it was…you know….just hanging there in a little corner underneath the reading card.
We celebrated our anniversary recently, and I posted a sexy pic of us kids on a night out. “Inspired” were you? Well, I had my head buried in editing work the week leading up to that lovely picture and barely said boo to the man. So, I thought I’d surprise him with a lovely gift. When it didn’t arrive, I called to complain (in my best “Karen” voice). The tech guy’s slow “Uh…m’am” told me he knew I was grey. ‘turns out I forgot to click “check-out” and PAY! Who does that?
Someone blamed it on Mercury Retrograde. I blame it on life!
Photo by Polina Tankilevitch
That said, I did remember to brush my teeth and to say THANK YOU this week:
Thank you for the gift of good health
Thank you that my son ate all the garnishes (read veggies) on his burger
thank you for the laughs over brekkie, the hummus, the WhatsApps of love, gossip and friendship
And most importantly, thank you because I feel loved, supported and accepted by those I share my life with.
So, I’ve decided: I’ll take the compliment the next time someone says that they are “inspired”. That’s how I will know that it’s okay to just be (messy) ME.
Perhaps you’ll do the same? I, for one, will be soooooo inspired!
xoxo
Lee
P.S. My book is now available on Amazon Kindle. See the link below for more info:
I completed a mammoth task this week! I’ve had my head down for months on this project, which I will tell you about soon enough. (I’m sure you can guess what it is *wink *wink).
And, just as I was about to breatheeeeeeee, put my feet up and relax, my next challenge arrived. What struck me that my assignments seem to be getting harder each time.
Take speaking for example. For some years now, I’ve been asked to speak at events about my work on Gratitude and I’ve embraced these opportunities wholeheartedly. But what always happens next is that people want more. A little more personal, a little more vulnerable, more of YOU please.That’s usually the point when I run!
But I’m working on it.
I’m easing into sharing a more vulnerable side, not about my personal life (that’s all dull and boring) but about the things that shape, crack, break, mould, transform and inspire me. I can write about them, sure. But, when it comes to TALKING about them…well, that’s a different ballgame entirely.
But I’m working on it.
And, just as I said !YES!, this massive world class speaking event called my name, asking me to put my money where my mouth is.
Because that’s the way the Laws of the Universe work and I could not be more grateful to be in the flow.
My mom’s sister who died quite suddenly. It was the first week of lockdown in South Africa when she passed.
We got news of her death around 9am and all we wanted to do was rush to the family home to be with her children and her 80 something year old husband, from who she really was inseperable. They were married for 60 years or so.
I was so sad but I could park that. All I really wanted was to see my loved ones and offer support. I remember when my own mom passed, those people who just turned up on the day and DID were a Godsend. I felt I could be that kind of person in this instance.
Being the absolute nerd that I am, I managed to convince my husband that we should pop into our local police station to ask them what we needed in terms of permission in order to make our way to the family home on the otherrrrrrr side of the world. We had seen visuals on TV and social media of the army, of cyclists being arrested and I must be honest, the general air of fear and tension was palpable.
“Good Morning” I said through my mask to the two policemen at the door. They were tense too, but they listened to my story and immediately decided that yes, I should definitely jump on the highway and make my way to the bereaved. “Family” the one guy said “Family”.
“So, I dont need a permit or anything to go there for a prayer service or for the funeral?…” I tried to add, knowing that my Catholic family would want to get started on the prayer asap, particularly for a woman like my aunty who loved her faith.
Screeeeeching from the other side of a room I did not even see someone flying towards us.
“Back home!” she spat. “What do you think this is? A party? Do you know what lockdown means? There is no travelling! No partying. No walking around and shopping….”
Everyone was stunned by the absurdity of the statements.
The two policemen looked down. I thought I was dreaming.
“Umm, no mam, I have just lost my aunt…literally a few hours ago and I am her next of kin, so I was asking about what I needed to…”
“I don’t care!” she said “No means no”
“L O C K D O W NNNNNNNN she said mockingly. “It means you go noooooooowhere, my dear”.
Now my tears were beginning to come. The floodgates really opened when I made eye contact with the two policeman. They were looking down and shaking their heads. I only realised then that they reported to her. She was their boss and they were not going to be able to do anything for me.
I was sobbing. I could not believe that another human being was speaking to me like that. In a room full of other people. When I had just been shot in the heart with grief.
My husband, who had said nothing up to this point had the look. I know it well. Gentle Giant was giving her the who the fck do you think you are talking to look, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head slightly. That look only comes out once every like 12 years.
“Umm, tell me something…” he said, towering at least 100m above her head. “Did you hear the part where my wife said she had just lost her mother?” (In his culture, my aunt WAS my mother. No lies there).
“I don’t care what story she has” the woman said.
“Ummm sorry, mam? We are just here to …”
“Wait, love” he said. It was a firm and gentle, but gosh it was full of conviction.
My husband looked at the two men. Heads bowed in shame. He looked at me. Put his hands on his hips.
There was a long silence.
“Are you feeling okay?” My husband said, looking the woman directly in the eye.
Two more officers arrived. The air changed from an emotional one to something that my intuition told me could easily escalate into something ugly, where we were perhaps thrown in a holding cell and handcuffed, or worse.
That’s when one of the two officers became human again and said to my husband “I think it’s better if you guys go, my brother…”
He didn’t mean that we should GO to the highway and GO to the funeral home and GO be with our loved ones (which is just what we did, masks and all). He was firing a warning shot to us, to say that if we did not get out of there, there would be trouble. I took my husband by the hand and pulled hard.
Heartbroken, disgusted and defeated we arrived at the funeral home. That’s when something magical happened. As I entered, I felt this incredible Light. I walked into the funeral home filled with a Spirit of compassion, love, strength, empathy and support.
That strength did not come from ME, and that’s really what this long story is about.
Friends tell me that strength is The Peace that Passes All Understanding. In my culture, the Holy Spirit. In yours, your Higher Self/God, perhaps?
Trust me it will come when you need it leaving you, the spiritual being here on earth to have a human experience, in awe. And, in my case filled with so much GRATITUDE.
These are the moments, friends. These are the moments!
I want to tell you a quick story about my book, Musings – Reflections of Gratitude.
When I wrote it, I thought I had accomplished my mission. I thought it would go into bookstores and I could sit my bottom down to rest and write again. But, life had other plans for me.
For a good year and a half now, I have been signing copies of this book. I kid you not. It has gone to print over 6 times and not a week goes by without a stream of corporate gifts walking out of my front door. Each person who bought it, seemed to think of many other people (moms, friends, grannies, colleagues) to whom they wanted to gift the book.
Don’t laugh! That’s my game face (tongue & all)
There are many nights when I find myself sitting at my dining room table, surrounded by hundreds of pink gift bags, pink ribbon, pink tissue paper with my little people packing the personalised books signed Mary, Sophie, Lebo, Maria, Fatima et al.
You see, what I have come to realise about this book, is that my job was not simply to write it, my job was to LIVE it. That is, the lesson about giving and receiving. About being truly grateful.
It has truly been a labour of LOVE, one which I have truly been rewarded for over and over again.
Talking about love, support and all things gifty, I’ve partnered with the lovely mom duo Debbie and Lauren from The Domestic Dolls for Women’s month and you can order signed copies of the very book for your besties, your bookclub, your staff members and all the wonderful women in your life through this website : https://the-domestic-dolls.myshopify.com/collections/books/products/musings-reflections-of-gratitude
Don’t forget to tell them how grateful you are for all they are and all they do.
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.
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.
Lee Mayimele - Writer 