It's the people that matter....
In my time of blog silence the stuff that we shipped from England finally arrived. It was such a team effort from my family and friends who helped me pack, to the kind people at Space Station Self Storage, who always seemed to be open when we needed extra tape or bubble wrap! And of course the company we used to get the things here. After having waited this long for our things, it was more than a little weird seeing those boxes with my handwriting on them; being lowered from the back of a truck.
I certainly did not want to open them. I am a do it all at once kinda girl. For instance when I decided to watch Mad Men, it was two full days and four seasons all at once. When I got my kindle, it took me a couple of hours to fill it with books. When I carry stuff out of the car I would rather resemble a circus act (think woman walking tightrope, with everything from a monkey and a flat screen tv balanced on her chin!) than make several trips.
I have since opened a few of the boxes. The first one was so that I could grab my prized potato ricer! I've wanted one since I saw Gary Rhodes or was it Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall making the most amazingly fluffy mash with it. I opened another box to get my wonderful springform cake tins to make my husband's birthday cake.
Yesterday was interesting, I opened a box labeled "clothes" and boy did I find them! I was giddy at the sight of all my special stuff I forgot I owned. It got me thinking about my obsession with material things. My insatiable need for stuff. I adore cookbooks, teddy bears (they're technically not stuff!), handbags, shoes and clothes just as much as the next girl and having to move continents with just 4 suitcases required more mental will than I could muster.
I have had several major moves in my life, leaving home, leaving Cape Town, leaving home again and then leaving England. I realised (sadly!) that so much of my time planning for the moves was preoccupied with possessions and not people. What a crying shame.
When I left home to go to uni, I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out how many crop tops and slinky dresses I could fit in my suitcases, instead of hanging out with and speaking to my nieces and nephew who although were just little people could have taught me a few things about making friends and being grateful for the little things. I could have spent more time with my mum, she is a wisdom well! She'd have taught me that once you have decided to do something good you need to see it to it's completion.
When I graduated university, I spent weeks buying things and stuffing already heaving bags with nothing of real importance. I could have spent that time telling my amazing flat mate what a great person was (still is!). She could have taught me to laugh more and do everything with infectious enthusiasm. I should have thanked Kelv and Bee, me and my friends' moral compass and unwavering intercessors when all we could be bothered about was when the next party would be and whether there'd be booze!! My room had the most amazing view of Table Mountain. Once I had my trusty possessions packed, I doubt I even stopped to take in the view and acknowledge how blessed I'd been to have lived in such a beautiful place.
So after that I left home again. This time, it wasn't the possessions I had that were the focus of my attention (although I left several suitcases with my mum, with strict instructions that they remain sealed-that didn't happen!) but it was more the possessions I knew I would acquire! It was the last time I would ever see my grandmother (legend), my aunt Agnes (epitome of auntyhood, I model my auntyhood on her) and my dad in law to be (Godsend). Mbuya would have reminded me to look after my mum, my aunt would have reminded me that I'm fabulous just as I am and Dad, oh Dad. He would have made me smile by believing I was destined for greatness. But I missed that, because I was thinking woop woop, shopping!!!!
Then I left England (sob!) and my sisters and brother in law, my girls, some of my most precious friends. I had grand plans to write heartfelt letters, have heart to hearts (did have lunch at Wagamamas with Joyce, dinner at that place at Westfield with the boys, which left us stranded in a snow storm and dinner kwa Mai George and with the Lombards and lunch with the Hedgers!) but it was not nearly enough. I spent weeks acquiring stuff that I thought would make the move easier and more bearable. They didn't! Leaving was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. Wish I had spent more time with people. I should've got up and thanked all the lovely ladies who came to my farewell party/bridal shower, in the freezing cold, because they care about me. I should have thanked Donna for being an ally in an often hostile workplace. She'd have taught me about being a giver and never expecting anything in return. I should have said goodbye to Mr Omar downstairs at number 46, the last time I saw him I did him a favour but I was far from gracious. I should have thanked the guys at the Boys Emporium for being so sweet. How about the two best ticket hall assistants in the world at West Drayton Station. I never told the friendly ladies at Hummingbird Bakery in Soho how much their smiles helped me to deal with my ever expanding waistline! I should've thanked the lovely nurses, doctors and consultants at Hillingdon Hospital for their professionalism and compassion during my difficult health issues. Then there's my diva nieces Michaela and Juanita, they'd have taught me how to drive people insane with style!!!! I could have taught them.......absolutely nothing! They're perfect.
So instead of spending more time with all these dear people, expressing how much I appreciate them, I spent WEEKS acquiring stuff, stuff that I am having to work up an emotional connection to.
2012 has been a year of lessons for me, the year circumstances took me back to school. And the lesson for September/October is not to hold on too dearly to stuff. It's the people that matter...
I certainly did not want to open them. I am a do it all at once kinda girl. For instance when I decided to watch Mad Men, it was two full days and four seasons all at once. When I got my kindle, it took me a couple of hours to fill it with books. When I carry stuff out of the car I would rather resemble a circus act (think woman walking tightrope, with everything from a monkey and a flat screen tv balanced on her chin!) than make several trips.
I have since opened a few of the boxes. The first one was so that I could grab my prized potato ricer! I've wanted one since I saw Gary Rhodes or was it Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall making the most amazingly fluffy mash with it. I opened another box to get my wonderful springform cake tins to make my husband's birthday cake.
Yesterday was interesting, I opened a box labeled "clothes" and boy did I find them! I was giddy at the sight of all my special stuff I forgot I owned. It got me thinking about my obsession with material things. My insatiable need for stuff. I adore cookbooks, teddy bears (they're technically not stuff!), handbags, shoes and clothes just as much as the next girl and having to move continents with just 4 suitcases required more mental will than I could muster.
I have had several major moves in my life, leaving home, leaving Cape Town, leaving home again and then leaving England. I realised (sadly!) that so much of my time planning for the moves was preoccupied with possessions and not people. What a crying shame.
When I left home to go to uni, I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out how many crop tops and slinky dresses I could fit in my suitcases, instead of hanging out with and speaking to my nieces and nephew who although were just little people could have taught me a few things about making friends and being grateful for the little things. I could have spent more time with my mum, she is a wisdom well! She'd have taught me that once you have decided to do something good you need to see it to it's completion.
When I graduated university, I spent weeks buying things and stuffing already heaving bags with nothing of real importance. I could have spent that time telling my amazing flat mate what a great person was (still is!). She could have taught me to laugh more and do everything with infectious enthusiasm. I should have thanked Kelv and Bee, me and my friends' moral compass and unwavering intercessors when all we could be bothered about was when the next party would be and whether there'd be booze!! My room had the most amazing view of Table Mountain. Once I had my trusty possessions packed, I doubt I even stopped to take in the view and acknowledge how blessed I'd been to have lived in such a beautiful place.
So after that I left home again. This time, it wasn't the possessions I had that were the focus of my attention (although I left several suitcases with my mum, with strict instructions that they remain sealed-that didn't happen!) but it was more the possessions I knew I would acquire! It was the last time I would ever see my grandmother (legend), my aunt Agnes (epitome of auntyhood, I model my auntyhood on her) and my dad in law to be (Godsend). Mbuya would have reminded me to look after my mum, my aunt would have reminded me that I'm fabulous just as I am and Dad, oh Dad. He would have made me smile by believing I was destined for greatness. But I missed that, because I was thinking woop woop, shopping!!!!
Then I left England (sob!) and my sisters and brother in law, my girls, some of my most precious friends. I had grand plans to write heartfelt letters, have heart to hearts (did have lunch at Wagamamas with Joyce, dinner at that place at Westfield with the boys, which left us stranded in a snow storm and dinner kwa Mai George and with the Lombards and lunch with the Hedgers!) but it was not nearly enough. I spent weeks acquiring stuff that I thought would make the move easier and more bearable. They didn't! Leaving was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. Wish I had spent more time with people. I should've got up and thanked all the lovely ladies who came to my farewell party/bridal shower, in the freezing cold, because they care about me. I should have thanked Donna for being an ally in an often hostile workplace. She'd have taught me about being a giver and never expecting anything in return. I should have said goodbye to Mr Omar downstairs at number 46, the last time I saw him I did him a favour but I was far from gracious. I should have thanked the guys at the Boys Emporium for being so sweet. How about the two best ticket hall assistants in the world at West Drayton Station. I never told the friendly ladies at Hummingbird Bakery in Soho how much their smiles helped me to deal with my ever expanding waistline! I should've thanked the lovely nurses, doctors and consultants at Hillingdon Hospital for their professionalism and compassion during my difficult health issues. Then there's my diva nieces Michaela and Juanita, they'd have taught me how to drive people insane with style!!!! I could have taught them.......absolutely nothing! They're perfect.
So instead of spending more time with all these dear people, expressing how much I appreciate them, I spent WEEKS acquiring stuff, stuff that I am having to work up an emotional connection to.
2012 has been a year of lessons for me, the year circumstances took me back to school. And the lesson for September/October is not to hold on too dearly to stuff. It's the people that matter...
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