emptybeginnings

  • Day 64 – beginner mindset

    Meditation Day 37 – 1 with group during half-day Sangha
    Exercise 46

    This hike is like no other. Three sets of chains at the top of Kloof Corner, after climbing a set of stairs at 65 degrees. The first set of chains tests not only my climbing skills but also trust in my muscles. Many turn around here. I thought I was doing well until the third chain. By then, I was tired, bruised and not sure how I am going to survive this one. No safety nets and easy to step into ledges. Until Danny points where I should place my hands and feet. Use the chain, he says. I climb up and make it.

    Key takeaway? While I have the skills, physical fitness and endurance, I still didn’t trust myself to climb and on the mountain. It helps to have someone show you the way, pointing out little cracks and surface you can’t see. It also helps to have someone who waits for you and takes you along the journey.

    Personally? I was the only one from the group of four to be doing this hike for the first time. Being the worst at something humbled me in the best way, chasing discomfort. Also gratifying to be bad at something, showing me I still have so much to learn. Having to rely on the people I just met an hour ago to hoist me up a ledge that I was too short to climb.

    Growth takes place with people who are better than me. Who’s been there and done that.

    I often find myself being the best, making me complacent and stale.

    Here is to pursuing discomfort. Seeking people who are better than me. To beginner mindsets.

    This love letter goes to the fellow three hikers who pushed and pulled me along the way. While offering their variety of snacks and fun stories to make us laugh all morning.

    Bruised and happy.

  • Day 63 – The art of tidying up

    Last night, after making the record ascent in 32 minutes, for the first time someone passing me on my way up. The same woman who backed into the space next to me before I ran out the door. Competition is good for competence.

    A company announcement of a promotion to a woman who’s always been clear with what she wanted. Another one at her book publishing event. Another speaking about her book.

    I wish I could say I was motivated. The truth is I felt jealous. Inadequate. Why isn’t that me? Simple answer is that I haven’t worked for it. Too often, filling my space, head and stomach with things and people that do not choose me. So after sleeping in, knowing that I will regret this in few days when the rain pours, I open the cupboards and throw things away. Empty boxes. Father’s old wallet and his medical records. Old letters. Until the cupboard space is freed up by 50%.

    And I rearrange my space to fit me better. Moving the dining table against the window, next to the tree. Magnifying the carpet space, in front of the patio.

    Taking down pictures of my childhood. Getting rid of monthly calendars and pictured Christmas cards from friends. Why? This is the past. Someone else’s past. They do not serve me. As I look into the future, trying to keep myself in the present moment.

    This love letter goes to the art of tidying up. Getting rid of things and memories. To carving out the future with more empty spaces.

  • Day 62 – Starting Again

    Meditation 35 – 50 minutes minus Metta
    Exercise Day – 44

    It’s nice to see you again.

    It’s been four days since I last wrote. A confession without a priest listening to me repent before assigning me Hail Mary’s counting beads on a rosary. I felt guilty yesterday. Not today. While the exercise is to develop the muscle of writing daily, I filled in with the daily meditations since Sunday.

    This letter celebrates the act of starting over. Picking up again and again. With decreasing frequency and severity. Remembering to keep going, picking up sooner than last time, after every fall. Endurance improves.

    The incandecent lights illuminates the street dotted tree with wild hair spreading onto succulent grass. Three shadows walk closer to the seawall. There is only one of me. How deceiving, this sight of ours. Only seeing what is in front of us, not seeing how it plays tricks in our minds.

    As I walk, yesterday’s heat radiates from the pavement. Waning full moon lights the way. Is it always high tide when the moon is full? Water is close to the edge, with no rocks to separate me and the water. A row of waves crashes against the sea wall, breaking into a mass of white, like a ray of white light.

    As I cross the road, from a beat-up black car, a sound from a man. It’s like a cat whistle but different. I used to feel disgusted. I ignore them. What do they think? That I will look their way and smile with gratitude? A row of homeless people to my left. One rises, unfolding the large blankets around his arms as he stretches. The mother city is in full swing, cars hooting, bikers dismounting for cups of coffees.

    How are you? Bongi greets me. She works here. I’m a customer. How wonderful is it to see familiar faces and be warmly greeted.

    It feels good to be here, writing on a black tablet purchased from little sister.

    I am grateful for this healthy body and legs that will take me along the promenade. Able mind to remember a waitress’s name. Fingers to type. Ability to write without looking. Loving sister who gets angry injustice committed against me. Wonderful day turning blue from the previous dark grey.

    It is a Friday, and I am staring back up again.

  • Day 61.5 – Clarity

    To 70/30/10 learning model.

    We retain 70% after doing. 30% through exposure. 10% from formal education. A solid foundation. Watching how they can be applied. Thereafter, doing the work ourselves.

    Thanks to last year’s mentorship program and exposure to senior leaders from Walmart, I saw the importance of being clear with what I want.

    Seeing Srividya moving onto the US gave me the exposure and push I needed to be able to put this in writing. She herself said she learned this from Walmart. She wants to be a CEO.

    What a privilege it is to be exposed to her and her leadership despite not being in her team. Thank you for including me and your leadership of inclusion.

    JC taught me that I have to be able to speak to the next role by title or the incumbent. I’d like to be a COO, which incorporates what I excel at. Synthesizing strategy. Translating strategy into structure. Executing against the strategy by creating the flywheel of people, process, data and technology. Creating winning teams by leveraging people to their strengths, setting high standards and holding peope accountable. I can take on five more projects while running my current operation, which is aligned to what a COO would be responsible for. I would work well with a war time CEO setting up new vision and strategy, ahead of changnig times.

    Because we speak regularly, the mid-year check in was quick and easy. Thanks for always being available and prioritizing how we feel. I am a big fan of Maya Angelou’s reminder: People don’t remember what you said. They remember how you made them feel.

    I row 6km, stopping after first ten minutes. Then another 6. Then 4. Then another 3. It’s tougher after being away from the seat for a month.

  • Day 61 – Galileo

    Meditation 35 – 0
    Exercise Day – 43

    To living a full life, with people I love, the same people who love me. To being out and enjoying the best of real world.

    “I was just thinking about you! How are you?”

    “Just checking in to see how you’re doing. I have nothing to say.” She asks me bunch of questions, listening intently before hanging up to join her family. How lucky I am to have such wonderful friends.

    It takes loner than I thought, surprised to see so many cars on the road. I seldom drive when everyone else is around. Patience by Guns and Roses play over and over.

    Like last time, I park to the right of the white car. Arriving just after him. As we enter, I am surprised to see only few seats occupying the grass. Is it because it’s the end of season? “Sh” and “Sh’s friend” is marked on the two seats next to year other, with two rolled-up blankets, two bags of popcorn and two bags of chocolate whistles and bottles of water.

    I am hungry after picking up rowing in two months. To my left, I notice something new on the horizon. A bite taken out of waning moon peeking out of horizon. I nudge to my right. “Look at the moon!”

    As the sun goes down, stars appear. An airplane flies away, binking white nad red lights as it gets farther away. The moon gets further away from the horizo.

    Despite having watched The Matrix too many times to count, I notice new things. Orpheus’s green tie looks like the Matrix code. Sentinel is colored red. There are only two colors in the movie, shot in shades of grey: Red and Green. Discrete choices of life. Wake up and take control over your life. Take the tough road. Keep dreaming and gliding. Eating imaginary food that nourishes your unconscious.

  • Day 60 – Blood

    Meditation 34 – 1 hour with Metta
    Exercise Day – 42

    What just happened? I surprise myself as I rise, feeling sharp pain on the left side of my scalp, just above the forehead. Drip drip drip.

    Deep red drips onto white tiles.

    I run to the bathroom to see the blood trickling down. I unroll a wad of toilet paper to wipe my face and hold it against the head, applying pressure. I had put on headphones to listen to a session while mopping up my place. The only place I could have hurt myself is where I rise too quickly to crack my head open. I feel dizzy and I am not sure if I will be okay. Most likely, yes. I have to present in 35 minutes, so I tell my manager what happened in case I lose my marbles and she needs to take over.

    As I sit, my left hand against the tissues against my scalp. I wonder what this is supposed to teach me! So much! Do one things at a time. Don’t plug into headphones to become more aware of my suroundings.

    I give the best session, the fifth one since yesterday. It helps to have a familiar face who is willing to engage and go along the presentation as a fellow shopper. Smiling and engaging. My manager tells me this was the best one to date. I agree. I am my own reminder. You don’t know what someone is going through. They could have cracked their head open and pushing on because they are here to do a job. What you see is only a fraction of the truth, if any at all.

    Do I go salsa or should I meditate? A craked head. Drive half an hour and move? Probably a bad idea. So I grab my blanket and sit for an hour, including Metta, before going to sleep in the bedroom, tucked under the soft egyptian cotton duvet of comfort.

    What is this love letter to? To self-care. Doing what is best for me, at that point in time. To being more aware of myself and my surroundings. To seeing that what we see is not reality.

    Back in the bathroom, I see a trace of blood on the floor still. Rusty residue of what used to pump oxygen to my brain just few hours ago.

  • Day 59 – pressure is privilege

    Meditation 33 – 1 hour with Metta
    Exercise Day – 41

    “Pressure is privilege”, Tom Cruise

    Today, I present the revised policy to the entire group in four 1-hour sessions. I don corporate wear on top, with buttons and collar and all. I brush my hair and draw in eyebrows. I am camera ready. First. Second. Third. Fourth. I feel myself getting better with every presentation. Growing more confident and articulate. It’s not hard to present topic I designed and authored. The policy. Way of working. Systems and procedures we use day to day. Able to handle every question without delay. Answering them to remind them the order of operations. It’s always more difficult and longer to stream upstream.

    I have volunteered to co-host the Sangha Vipassana this Sunday. And so, I decide to join the group sit in town to marketing the event. The hostess offers dinner after the one-hour sit and asks for R50 or R100 for contribution towards groceries. I get there to find another meditator waiting to cross the road safely, a cushion on his hand.

    A big turnout – likely due to bean chilies garnished with chopped up onions, avocado, cream, and lime. Served with a slice of corn bread and chocolate-mousse dessert after. I eat though I’m not hungry. It feels to share meals with people, sitting together. A lady I keep running to gives an update on her life. She has a job working with a team, appreciating the steady source of income without having to hustle for every client,doing heavy work of helping people through addictions, on the back of Gabor Mate’s methods.

    I EFT R300 to the hostess, seeing how much food she’s made. She responds, “That’s very generous of you. I’m not working at the moment and I spent more than planned for groceries. It’s wonderful to see the Sangha growing. Thanks for showing up to sell Sangha.”

    The next day, I devour the chocolate dessert after my last presentation. I needed something sweet and decadent after bleeding.

    Here is to Sangha. To communities of our creation from being deliberate and intentional about showing up. Contributing. To preparing. To practicing.

    To me, for no longer being afraid to speaking up. After doing the work of growing confident with Toastmasters, completing 10 prepared speeches. So that I can apply the pressure to do what matters. Seeing it as a privilege earned and what feeds me.

    I look forward to the next Mission Impossible. I admire Tom Cruise for doing what he loves, getting skills along the way, not shying away from his own stunts, growing as he goes.

  • Day 58 – You don’t need more time. You need more of yourself

    What goes in must come out. What comes out doesn’t need to go back in. What goes up must go down. What goes down does not always go up. The law of nature. Yin and Yang. What I push away keeps coming back. What I pull swings away from me. In the middle, I invite things to come and go, as they please. Unattached from my expectations and desires. My avoidance and lethargy.

    What am I learning? The crime of commission has been addressed. Now comes the damage of omission. People that did their best and their best is not enough. Not enough to put a roof over my head. Not enough to protect me from harm’s way. Not enough to speak my language of non-neurotypical people.

    I used to think that I have had more than one Mother. My first stepmother. The second one. Two maternal aunts. Three paternal aunts. My friends’ mothers. Optimism swung too far, away from reality. I was born onto one mother and one father. A child of two people. No more, no less. And how parents treat their offspring is different from all others. This is law of nature.

    I remember calling my first stepmother while in university. To ask for advice on matters of life. “I don’t know” was her answer. Few years later, I call her by mistake, when wanting to call one of paternal aunts. She takes offense and stops talking to me for years.

    One is neutral and absent, paying for my uniform at MMA, to make up for the money my father took. She didn’t stop by to say ‘hi’.

    One lies to get $5000 from me to prop up her son’s restaurant he never wanted. He always wanted to run his own Taekwondo Dojang. A dream he achieved later in life, after being told this is not how he should live his life.

    The final one. I write letters. I call. No return of reply. One day in Yujong, Daejeon. I decide to use a different route. Walk to their address. As I get closer, I know I’m on right track, memory of the past coming back to me. Outside the metal door, I hear her on the phone. I knock on the door and yell out my name. Beyond happy to have found them long last. “Who are you?” She asks uninvitingly. Her husband is in, and he breaks into a broad smile, welcoming me in. “Have you eaten? Did you have dinner? Wife, please bring out some fruit.” As she peels half a pear, he cannot stop smiling. Me too, I am happy to see him.

    He works still, keeping himself busy. With her bad knees she can’t get around too much. The apartment that used to be new and spacious 33 years ago hasn’t changed. One room is filled with old and decrepid things they will never use. Framed are photos of them and their two adult children. One adult son with a daughter. The other one never married.

    He walks me out to the bus stop, for me to get to my friend’s place.

    Next week, I call her to set up a dinner together. Few days later, her mother passes. Technically, her aunt. Dinner is cancelled without my knowledge. I’m surprised she didn’t call to say she’s leaving for the USA.

    Her eldest, my favorite cousin. I call him to see if we can meet to catch up. Have a meal. “I’m busy. I have to work on this paper. I have to work.” After a long list of excuses, I see that he doesn’t want to meet me. A surprise. he is ashamed of himself for not having launched into a successful career.

    I don’t know. They say you can fathom the deepest of creeks but not insides of a human being.

    What I know is they are not happy to see me. I had been searching for twenty years to find them. I didn’t want anything from them. Except to say thanks for all they did for us. To reconnect and understand their stories. To share a meal. Maybe it’s because of shame. Because they have nothing to give. But what I know is this. If you want something, you will make time.

    Contrast this to a complete stranger. A customer at site that I first worked out of. At a drop of a phone call, he invites me to his work. He invites me to a hike, and he keeps making himself available. Doing what he can to make my life easier.

    Back to where I started. Because I have been used to around unavailable people, I incorrectly associated unavailability with normalcy. Not seeing the other side of the coin. Those who really care for me will always show up. Make time to see me.

    Like three months ago when Sane got to me at 6:30am for a walk before she flew back to Germany.

    I have plenty of people who are available and loving. Like my aunts who will always make time for me. Like their children.

    To seeing more clearly. Letting go of people that are unavailable.

  • Day 57 – mid flight

    A week later, I am still filling myself up physically. Going away from emptying and beginning anew.

    I am waiting for my friend’s son who just finished his first Vipassana meditation. To accommodate him, I decided to try a different route up to Lion’s Head, thinking I had only 90 minutes before he would be delivered to my doorstep. I run into two friends at the start of the hike. How likely is it for three people who know one another to show up at the same time to the same place? A sign I’ve been here long enough to build up a community.

    Two and half hours later, he is still not here. When I call to check in, he thanks me for being considerate.

    Being around others shows me how much value I place on being on time. An element of control that I still desire. That is always out of reach.

    Going up and down the mountains, feeling rushed and excited to be on a new path, I feel happy. Reminding myself that I am at my best in movement. In mid flight. I see the mountain from the seaside.

    I come across a house I would like to live in. Exactly behind a mountain with a seaside view into the ocean. Except, I would build more economically with more earth materials, blocking the window a bit for more privacy.

    I snap few pictures to capture birds in mid-flight. Not intentional. A pure luck. Or maybe they aren’t. Running into two friends, a house of my dreams manifested in reality, two birds in flight. The house I like has the road #11.

    To going out and being with the world. Outside of the home that should be used as a resting place, not a place to spend all my waking hours.

    The house I’d like to live in.

  • Day 56 – Silence

    Meditation Day 29 – 0
    Day 38

    To abstience of sound. No podcasts. No audio books. No voice notes. No books. No reels. No emails. No spreadsheets. No dashboards. No meetings. No smiles. No voices. To a day of complete silence to myself, with my eyes closed.

    The soft rain that wanes and waxes through the morning, car drives close and far. Where have the birds gone, I have not heard them. As I write, I hear them to my right, flying and making sound, in between cars coming and going. My stomach too full from overconsuming the past few days. To fill the void that demanded to be felt. Avoiding the layers still. Having dealt with the first loss. Then the second. Now, the mourning of what was never there. Expectation of a relationship that I wanted more than she. Could she have done more? No. Did she do the best she could? Yes.

    I used to think that doing our best was all that mattered. What do you expect from am orphan? A beggar? Person with no arms? I was wrong. We should set high expectations not just ourselves but everyone around us.

    Sure, a roof over my head and food in my stomach having knowledge of who my parents are is a ladder up from my father’s life. It doesn’t mean my needs were met. It doesn’t mean they could have done better than where they started from.

    It is different for me. I cannot measure my place with rungs or ladders. I am mountain tops ahead, in terms of comfort, knowledge and of course, abundance. The infinite space of interbeing, a long line around two points that intersect. A circle of no beginnings. I see Georgie around an arc, showcasing the motion of centriifugal force as she turns around dramatically.

    Why is that we can only see clearly with our eyes closed, in stillness, with no one around us? A lesson that keeps repeating myself. When will this become like the breath I take?

    No matter.

    As I clean, vacuum, and put things away. Mindful to take out more than what I brought in. I notice the clothes I pack away, intended for charity. see a pattern. This one would fit older sister and it’s her style. This one would fit Sophie. This is perfect for Audrey. A pattern of purchasing emerges. I don’t buy only for myself. I do so for those I think of the most. My love language of acts of service, giving gifts, knowing that words of affirmation matters less for myself. These fabrics carefully folded for them to use during our holiday in December, my eyes water. Words hitting the truth of my being. As I have been trying to restrain this love of mine. Feeling the distance growing. A natural tendency, and a healthy one.

    I light the red candle scented apple cinnamon. Noticing the remainder of green candle held by the buddha’s hands. It is a desire to light the two. Not an impulse. Because even the smallest candle light emits not just light, but heat. Just a little bit to remind me the power of a small light. I am that small light.

    Namaste. The god in me sees the god in the world.