More Mental Debates

I was told the other day that I am a bit of a perfectionist. My first and immediate response was that the other person was clueless. I mean take a look at this blog, there is a line that goes down the middle of it that just should not be there – surely a perfectionist would never tolerate that?

Then I did something strange, I let that possibility exist within myself. I discovered that I have perfectionist expectations of myself. In other words I expect myself to be perfect. The resulting mental chaos is obvious as I finding myself falling short of my expectations daily.

Having allowed this rogue thought in, all sorts of things have started to happen to me. I can now see situations where I do expect perfection and others where I have learnt to let things ride. I also see times when I want to impose my will in order to get my outcome, my perfect outcome.

I cannot tell you how earth shattering this insight of myself has been, although it must rank up there with the discovery of scrambled eggs and mayonnaise. It is said that surrounding yourself with people who are able to hold up the mirror to you is invaluable. My brief glimpse of myself will hopefully relieve most of my inner turmoil as I try and focus on doing a couple of things well instead of many things poorly!

It seems Christmas has been full of gifts; family, love, and a priceless new understanding of myself.

Freedom

My year has been absolutely mind blowingly awesome. Everyone should have a year just like it. The highlight has been the complete freedom to choose my direction, absolutely any direction. And so I have followed my fancy and explored all sorts of possibilities.

The freedom to choose is an incredible gift. For me, an anti establishment, go my own way kind of guy, it has been a journey filled with joy. There is no doubt, it is an ideal worth fighting for!

Yesterday I dusted off my goals. Yes, those clever things that I set over a year ago. I was rather disappointed to see that even though they have been top of mind, I can tick off very few as being complete.

Have I failed?

After much thought, I believe that stamping my year as a failure would be a rather narrow view. Sure I did not meet most of my goals, but I had a rare opportunity to exercise my own freedom. Perhaps the fact that I did not meet my goals means that I really used my freedom. Hmmm, perhaps that should have been my only goal this past year!

I have spent the last couple of months in a state of mental confusion. A not too unfamiliar territory for me! Having too much time to think is possibly just as bad as not having enough. My mental oscillation has revolved around having had the best year of my life, not meeting my goals, and having no idea about my future. The latter part has been my biggest concern as I am pretty anal about having a plan. Clearly following one’s fancy is opposed to a focus on a predetermined path. I know that now, but that knowledge a little while ago would have saved plenty of mental frustration.

The complete freedom to go where I wanted at any time has been fantastic. Yet, in the back of my mind this ugly thought about sustainability kept trying to percolate through all of the salt water that seems to have seeped in there from the surfing. For all of the freedom that I have gained, I have lost my focus in life! I have absolutely no idea about what to do with myself and now find it incredibly difficult to commit to anything lest it get in the way of my being able to choose something else. Now there is an interesting problem – have the freedom to choose but don’t choose because the choice itself destroys the freedom to choose something else!!!

It is time for me to think clearly and commit myself to my future. Now that I understand the source of my frustration, I think I can move on!

As for all the freedom I will lose, perhaps too much of any good thing is problematic! If you find yourself trapped and dying for freedom, take it from me, absolute freedom is a trap in itself. You and I both need to find the freedom that exists within the choices we make.

Dumping Girlfriends

We took our boys to the water park at the beach yesterday. The cancer institute would have been a little disappointed in our decision. A balmy 35 degrees Celsius blanketed the beach front in bright sunlight and the wind disappointed by not even stirring the leaves on branches. We did however coat our offspring in litres of sunscreen and insist on sun vests. All that taken into account, they had an absolute blast.

I stuck with our youngest for much of the hour that we spent in this world of rushing water. Yes, all three slides were working! As you may well imagine, I was the oldest participant in the activities. For some reason, perhaps my youthful countenance, I seemed to fit in with the rest of the revellers even though I was twice their height. Conversations ranged unabated and seemingly undiluted even with this pesky adult in attendance.

I learnt some interesting stuff.

A number of eight year olds were discussing girlfriends. I thought that it may be an interesting conversation to listen to and I was not disappointed. One of the boys proudly told his mates that he had dumped his girlfriend. I am pretty sure that they have no real concept of what a relationship involves. Either way this chap was proud of his achievement. If I had to get all psychological, I would say that he was posturing excessively to compensate for his bad squint! I was almost impressed myself. Not bad to have already had your first girlfriend at eight and have all your friends look at you in amazement and wonder. Another youngster asked him how he did it. He replied that it was so simple, as all he did was tell her that she was dumped. This statement was answered by a group of eight year old heads nodding in unison. The message was clear, this pesky girl situation can be simply resolved by uttering a couple of words.

I felt a little old at that point and could not stop myself asking the question, ‘but is that nice?’ Hardly a well phrased question, but I was reliably informed that this is how it is done, so obviously there is no problem. I resolved to keep the rest of my old fashioned thoughts to myself.

It was interesting to learn that my son at seven is exposed to some very interesting discussions. Knowing that I am not having these discussions with him means that I have not yet cracked that elusive father son relationship that I have been looking for.

This morning I collected all of the parent handbooks on sex that we seem to have collected. It is way past time for me to learn some stuff. I am also going to spend more one on one time with my sons to ensure that we start talking about all of the stuff that is going on in their lives as well as the stuff that they are just talking about.

I think I am going to learn a lot more now!!

Project Updates

A while ago I posted about a new project, “the halfpipe”. Many people have asked me about its progress. Well at long last, I have some progress to report. Yesterday I sat down and calculated the cost of this wooden monster. Hmmmm about R6500. That seems a bit excessive for a stack of wood all screwed together looking out of place in my garden.

On the other hand Play Station 3 and a couple of games would not cost too much less. There is very little chance of serious injury on Play Station, except a case of mild thumb strain. The wooden beast on the other hand has the very real potential to maim and break a person. Psychologically it can humiliate and destroy, especially if the right people are watching at the wrong time. Such big risks all while learning to skate and surfing better right in my own back yard! And to think that it will build real reactions and muscles, with personal style thrown in as an added bonus.

Now I just have to get started!

That being said, my “Tweety” project is about to kick off as well. It has not ended up as I anticipated with me doing all of the upgrade work. Instead I have decided to call in the professionals to upgrade the engine, gearbox and interior. The rest of the bits and pieces, I will try and do myself. OK, so I will have two very eager helpers as well, the kids!

I saw a chap on Thursday night with regard to him helping me. He is in! The car goes to his shop on Wednesday next week. The first order of business will be to remove the engine, strip it, and rebuild it. At the same time, the car will go to a place that will get busy on the inside. I am too excited.

Although not too excited to get our Christmas act together. I have strung up all of our exterior lights and Father Christmas’s bum is firmly attached to the chimney. This, where he allegedly got stuck trying to deliver a load of presents to my kids!!!!

I know what you are thinking, Christmas lights strung up on the house and a honking big yellow Ford on the lawn. This sounds like redneck stuff......I hope not, although I will let you know when my wife starts to wear dresses that are strapless with bra’s that aren’t!!!!

Lazy in Cape Town

I have been back in beautiful sunny South Africa for more than a week now. It has been spent in a guilty frame of mind as I have spent my time doing the bare minimum. I think it is called relaxing but I am not sure as it is something I have always found immensely difficult.

For me relaxing is when I get to chose what I want to do. Quite frankly that ain’t relaxing, it’s just doing different stuff at the same pace! This week I seem to have lacked the energy to do much more than surf a couple of times in the howling gales and read. Today though, I feel I am in a far better place for all of the laziness and ready to take on the world again.

One of the things that I did manage to do, in amongst all of the tough reading, is visit a hot rod garage in Parrow in Cape Town. I saw some awesome work in this chaps garage and I am hoping that he is going to assist me with my project. He is coming over this evening to check out my yellow Tweety Bird (as my wife has nicknamed it) and see what needs to be done. The amazing thing about this hot rod business is that just about everyone I have approached is jam packed full of project cars. Most cannot help me till February. Now there is something that I would never have imagined. Then again cars from the 50’s and 60’s are rarer now than ever before and nobody seems to be making them anymore!!!

I on the other hand cannot wait till February!! So much hangs off my negotiations this evening.....

I just gots to get a new chirp for Tweety Bird, cheep cheep!

Fire

There were some pretty big fires in Cape Town last night. From our house we could see the one burning above Gordon’s Bay. The mountain was on fire from top to bottom. Nestled just above the sea and just below the flames was the town of Gordon’s Bay.

I got ready for bed wondering if there was something more important for me to be doing than going to bed. Eventually I gave the local police station a call and was referred to the fire station. The fire station said that if I was interested in volunteering, I had to report to the Spur in Gordon’s Bay, their temporary headquarters.

So somewhere around 22h30 last night, I got dressed again, and charged off to go and do my bit. I felt pretty pleased with myself. As I got closer to Gordon’s this fire was bigger and more ominous than I had first suspected. The police had gotten there before me and had closed off most access into Gordon’s Bay. I talked my way through and found myself at the Spur.

There must have been at least 20 fire trucks packed into the beach parking lot. Ambulances, police cars, and disaster recovery vehicles took up any of the remaining space. People milled all over the place. Some had been evacuated and other were mentally preparing to do battle with an orange tongued monster. There was an air of excitement. Nobody was quite sure of what was going to happen but they all knew that it was going to be intense and difficult. I was impressed to see a lady dressed in her pyjamas handing out coffee to anyone who looked like they were ready for action. She glanced at me, made the wrong assumption, and offered me nothing! My black rugby shorts, “Buy this man a beer” T shirt, and hiking boots obviously did not add up to the action hero attire I had aimed for.

A nice disaster management lady gave me a big smile and told me I was a hero for coming down. She got my look! But there was nothing that I could do to help. OK, maybe not.....

So there I was in Gordon’s Bay in a gale force plus wind watching an out of control fire rage on the mountain and there was nothing I could do. I felt pretty small and useless. Was there really no value that I could add here? I saw a car pass the police blockade and park just next to my car. A heap of chaps spilled out and headed off with purpose toward the action. I felt a glimmer of hope, perhaps I could hook up with this gang and still be useful. While waiting for a reasonable stalking gap to open up between us, I watched as they entered a pub and settled down for some serious business, a round of beers!

I hung my head, and drove home. Wind blown leaves overtook my car whilst I was driving at 80km/hr. Even the leaves were getting more action than I!!!!

Off to West Africa

Today was a rough day. It all started out well. On my way out to the sea for my Monday morning board meeting, I met up with the chap who put one and one together and got one. Perhaps you remember the piece that I wrote on me breaking my good mate’s board. I showed him that I was still riding and that it was doing fine. We both had a look at the repair and saw that it was far from well and that it needed some serious love and attention. Perhaps after my surf session, I thought.

I had a fine session! I got some moves right and had heaps of waves. Eventually I dragged myself out of the sea in order to have a quick shower, get dressed, pack, hop into the car and get dropped off at the airport. A quick trip to Ghana was in order.

My wife dropped me off well early as she had to get back to sort out the children. Just as well. On checking in, I discovered that my flight had been cancelled. After a whole heap of conferencing and typing, I was upgraded to business class on an earlier flight. Had I been on time to check in, I would not have made my connection to Accra.

Eight and a bit hours of flying and I found myself in Accra, Ghana. I have a self catering apartment which is OK. Ghana is two hours behind the good old SA. I must have plonked myself into bed well after 1am and then proceeded not to sleep until I did not wake up for my alarm. Today has been filled with Coke, hopefully it will get me through...

Mums & Bums

My weekend (1 or 2 ago) was full of laughs. Mostly the stuff of great friends and family just having a plain good old time! It was camping weekend, something that could drive fear into any hardened suburban housewife. But not my wife! It has taken years but I think she is as close as she can be to enjoying camping. Years of effort and wise investment into giant Tabard candles, canvas, and inflatable beds have been the driving forces.

Normally there are four families that band together, pitch tents, feast on gourmet creations over an open fire, and play silly games with our children. This time there were only three. One mother pulled out as she did not think her four week old baby would be able to handle the gourmet creations. Or at least thats what I think the reason was.

We have rated this particular place that we go as the best camping spot we have ever been too. Picture rolling grass lawns down to the banks of a river, giant trees shading your site, almost your own mini forest, your own ablution block, and best of all, no other campers within 500m of your site! This place is a gem, and this weekend was our second visit.

The river is fast flowing and a transparent tea colour. It is filled with smoothed river rocks, which have created their own white water rapids. These particular festivities all started with one of the boys wading upstream a bit and then floating back down to where we all lounged in the cold mountain water. Then all of the boys were at it. It did not take long before all the children had found a place further upstream to enter the river and get a fun filled river ride. Yours truly was soon forced to try out this new entertainment with my little guy on my stomach. I very quickly realised that some skill was required to navigate between rocks otherwise I found myself royally thumped. All much to the enjoyment of my youngest who thought the wild up and down gyration of my middle was my addition to the game. How could I spoil that wonderful illusion by explaining that every up was the result of a collision with a rock!

During the day, there were suddenly load raucous screams, laughter and much giggling. Some of that noise sounded suspiciously like it originated with my wife. Having a deep understanding that nothing in camping could ever bring forth multitudes of mirth, I was understandably concerned for her safety. Rushing to the river’s edge, the screams and shouts were undiminished but their source was evident. Three mums bumping and bouncing their way down the rapids on their bums! The kids could not believe their eyes! Neither could I, but I was busy feeling on the grass to find my eyeballs that had popped out of my head on witnessing this sight. With much gaiety, laughter, and yes back slapping, they ran on back through the camp site to do it all again!

This was a good weekend!!! Bring on some more.....