The car bumped slowly down a track only just visible through the lengthening grass. My eyes stung. Just before we left home, carrying my daughter to the car had caused the ache in my pelvis to intensify. I was as slow-moving as this vehicle picking its way down the hillside. Everyday tasks were as heavy as my swollen belly, and tugged at my shoulders as much as my knees. Who would I be in just a few weeks? How would I manage with two small children? And where does patience and generosity and good cheer go when fatigue and aches bind your life like the thick mat of grey clouds brooding above me? This is what weighed on me the most: I wanted to mother and partner the best I could, to be present with kindness and joy. But in this place of vulnerability I also wanted desperately to coat myself in a brittle shell of crankiness, to wield grumpy as the armor that could hold all my pieces together.
In Shakespeare’s play Hamlet, the character Horatio exclaims, ‘O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!’
And Hamlet replies, ‘And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’
[Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5, Line 185]
Hello and welcome:) I am a South African artist and mama who believes in mindfulness and living on purpose. I love traveling, reading, yoga, leading our family business, and eating delicious food in beautiful places. And tea. I love tea. Pour yourself a cup and settle in for a read.