You know your life is in trouble when there is no significant change or progress. There has been none in mine. The dreams and the projects I nurtured bore no fruit. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time or place for that matter. I got to know some new acquaintances and with the most anguished heart I have let these fine people go to move back into their own cycle of life. The men were all very noble and intellectual and although their aging marriages seemed to show signs of dying premature deaths I realised with great sadness that at the end of the day communicating with a person such as myself was nothing more than a distraction – however stimulating and brief – it was just a distraction. So as the Great Book advises one takes drastic action to remove from ones Life that which causes an ‘ internal bleeding’. I began to love someone greatly – it is easy to achieve over weeks and months of well written words in mutual exchange of day to day living. How exciting a new journey always seems to be. For a brief moment in Time it seemed to be that even for me there was a bit of hope that I might, just might achieve the desires of my heart. But …..yes the great ‘but’ that changes all our lives and stops us in our tracks. I mourn the loss of him with a sadness that is akin to that which I felt at the passing of my mother it’s a horrible finality that one knows one cannot rescue or bring back to life again. My search to replace the love of my mother lead me to situations that was heaven and sheer hell – both were equally elusive. And accepting this reality has made me realise that in many ways I am dying to myself.
There can be no good outcome to where I find myself in life at this moment in Time. My two most loyal ex students (and now good friends with families of their own) know the Truth of my situation and what I experience in service to the Arts and in Teaching. They understand with empathy and support me whenever possible but it of course is not their reality. I know and realise with a sickening feeling that I cannot go on as I am doing. It has to end one way or the other. The more I search for that elusive and unconditional love the more I loose a piece of my soul and my sense of value as a human being. I cannot find it where I live for this is a community that is beyond cruel and the rules of engagement define even the logic of Sun Tzu – had he been alive today his brilliant manuscript – The Art of War – would be sorely challenged in trying to survive Rand*********.
Abandonment is a shocking reality. It is hard for anyone who enjoyed so much support and concern and advice on a day to day basis through endless messages and calls to suddenly be catapulted into a silent void. The one person I admired unconditionally was not who he seemed to be and it was a hard and bitter and crippling lesson to learn…but learn it I did. How is it that a heart that was once so full of compassion and feeling can now be so indifferent and cold?….for that is how my heart emerged through this ‘Baptism of Fire’ . I had to reach this age to severely experience this. I realise more and more my mother loved me too much while my father did not love me at all. Yet they both protected me with a fierceness that knew no rules. I miss that ….and I cannot find it.
My dream for my publication of the Afrikaans Poetry manifested itself in only one area – the other failed dismally and I have withdrawn the manuscript I have submitted for the publication of The Eternal Flame. I always seem to make the wrong choices while voices urge to do ‘what is right for you’. How can a floundering soul ‘know’ what is right for them. When my parents were alive I had a backup plan – now that they are no longer here – there is no backup plan. I never understood the parable of the Prodical Son – in fact I was very adverse to it for it seemed to me hat the eldest son was unfairly treated. But now I understand…for the very first time I understand how it was/is and always will be . IF you have much to give materially, financially and emotionally you will always be surrounded by takers and grateful recipients…but once the source of giving runs dry there are only shadows where once there used to be people. Everyone was willing to take what I could give. Now it is all strangely silent and empty. The Prodical son had a father to go to…I have no father to run home to – no one who will take me in his arms and say: it doesn’t matter …nothing matters except that you are home…and I am your father.