LOCKDOWN – IS IT MASS SUICIDE?

Many years from now, future historians will be scratching their heads to figure out how the mass suicide in 2020 was sanctioned. And how was it possible that so many so-called developed countries, with the legacy of Nobel Prize-winning scientists and advanced technology at their disposal, were still caught with their pants down by a virus?

And, yes, by suicide, I mean actual suicide, but also the destruction of our livelihood, driving businesses into liquidation and damaging our mental state.

This article should be read in tandem with my previous post (The Emperor is Naked) where it was emphasised from the outset that I am not against the lockdown. On the contrary. I think it is the best way to contain the virus. My concern is about the way this lockdown is been managed.

In 1978, Jim Jones, leader of an American cult in the Guyanese jungle, ordered his followers to murder a US congressman and several journalists, then commit mass suicide by drinking cyanide-laced fruit punch.

His followers, some acceptant and serene, others probably coerced, queued to receive cups of cyanide punch and syringes. The children were poisoned first, and can be heard crying and wailing on the commune’s own audio tapes, later recovered by the FBI.

In total  909 followers of Jones, including 304 children, died that day.

Decades later, survivors of the tragedy still remember being part of an organization that they devoted a good portion of their lives to. “The people were incredible,” says Jean Clancey. “People who were capable of committing themselves to something outside of their own self-interests.”

“We – all of us – were doing the right things but in the wrong place with the wrong leader,” adds Laura Johnston Kohl.

Tim Carter said, “There were so many lies that Jones told to people to create a state of siege mentality in the community, that even those that were making ‘a principled stand of revolutionary suicide’ probably were influenced a lot by the lies that he was telling them.”

Leslie Wagner-Wilson,  told Fox News: “There’s a need. People want to be a part of something. They want to feel safe; they want to feel a sense of community.

“In an environment like this”, Ms Wagner-Wilson cautions, “you might think there’s something wrong, but because everyone else is embracing it and clapping and being joyous, you look at yourself and say, ‘It must be me’”.

Familiar key words, aren’t they? Incredible people, committed, do the right thing, sense of community, feel safe, clapping and being joyous, etc.

At the time, after hearing about this horrible mass suicide for the first time, I was thinking to myself, how on earth is it possible for so many people to be influenced by one man? How can a parent feed their crying, unwilling children poison and then commit suicide? It’s madness.

Now, in 2020 I wonder no more. I’m experiencing it.

Currently, an estimated 2.6 billion people – one-third of the world’s population – is living under some kind of lockdown or quarantine. This is arguably the largest psychological experiment ever conducted.

Unfortunately, we already have a good idea of its results. In late February 2020, right before European countries mandated various forms of lockdowns, The Lancet , a weekly peer-reviewed general medical journal , published a review of 24 studies documenting the psychological impact of quarantine. The findings offer a glimpse of what is brewing in hundreds of millions of households around the world.

In short, and perhaps unsurprisingly, people who are quarantined are very likely to develop a wide range of symptoms of psychological stress and disorder, including low mood, insomnia, stress, anxiety, anger, irritability, emotional exhaustion, depression and post-traumatic stress symptoms. Low mood and irritability specifically stand out as being very common, the study notes.

In just a two week period, suicide was the leading cause for over 338 “non-coronavirus deaths” in India due to distress triggered by the nationwide lockdown – 151 people killed themselves due to loneliness, withdrawal symptoms and  financial distress.

It is estimated that up to 150,000 Britons could die from non-coronavirus causes, caused by a spike in suicides and domestic violence, because of the UK’s lockdown. The pandemic is expected to have a huge knock-on effect on people’s mental health due to financial worries and a disruption to routine. As early as 6 April, it was published that an increasing number of mental health incidents had been reported to police.

The new-normal that we are trying to maintain is unsettling, in troubling and intense ways. Unnerving, because we really don’t know what tomorrow will be like. Apparently, for humans, living with uncertainty is harder than living with pain. According to writer and psychotherapist, Bryan Robinson, participants in an experiment who were told they would definitely receive a painful electric shock were calmer than those who were told that they had a 50% chance of receiving one. Our brains, argues Robinson, are wired to equate uncertainty with danger.

No wonder solitary confinement – being used in prisons to keep unruly prisoners in check – receive so much criticism for having detrimental psychological effects and, to some and in some cases, constituting torture.

In South Africa,  the national government’s Gender-based Violence Command Centre recorded more than 120 000 calls from victims who rang the national helpline for abused women and children in the first three weeks after the lockdown started – double the usual volume of calls.

The damage that COVID-19 is causing is irrefutable, but so are the effects of the lockdown. As a global community we are united in following these restrictions despite its adverse affects – such is the power of the ‘herd mentality’. Indeed, it is the only solution we have until a vaccination is found, but it doesn’t mean that we have to resign ourselves to the worst of these conditions. Perhaps our leaders can take a leaf from a publication in The Lancet, titled “The psychological impact of quarantine and how to reduce it”:

• Information is key; people who are quarantined need to understand the situation.
• Effective and rapid communication is essential.
• Supplies (both general and medical) need to be provided.
• The quarantine period should be short and the duration should not be changed unless in extreme circumstances.
• Most of the adverse effects come from the imposition of a restriction of liberty; voluntary quarantine is associated with less distress and fewer long-term complications.
• Public health officials should emphasise the altruistic choice of self-isolating.

Stay safe!

 

ME AND OLD FAITHFUL IN LOURENҪO MARQUES

ME AND OLD FAITHFUL IN LOURENҪO MARQUES

In 1972, as a young boy, I went on a school trip to Lourenço Marques (LM – these days called Maputo) in Mozambique. Now, that was a big occasion – in my family, anyhow – because, except for my grandfather who fought in North Africa during the Second World War, I was probably the first member of my family, even extended, to travel beyond the borders of our country, South Africa. My dad even bought me a brand-new camera – an Olympus Trip 35. With a flash!

One of the very first pictures that was taken with my new prized possession, was the one below, of me with a group of friends (me on the left, wearing very colourful swimming trunks and a souvenir around my neck) near the beach in LM.

Since then, it is impossible to count the number of photo’s and colour slides that Old Faithful had given me as wonderful mementos of my life. Rugby tours, holidays, my military training and fighting during the Bush War in Namibia and Angola, our honeymoon, my children, first visits to Europe, etc. With modern technology, Old Faithful became obsolete and films (and development studios) harder to find.

The other day, while I was busy unpacking boxes in our new home, guess who popped up? Yes, Old Faithful – my Olympus Trip 35! I remembered seeing a shop where films were sold and I rushed there to buy one. Unfortunately they only had 200 ISO in stock and I still had to unpack my tripod. Like in the old days, I could barely wait to see the results of what I’ve captured on film. And then the big day …

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, but hey, give Old Faithful a break – after almost 50 years! Have a look for yourself.

I, TOO, HAVE A DREAM …

I, TOO, HAVE A DREAM …

(IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED OR POLITICALLY VERY CORRECT, THIS POST IS …  ESPECIALLY FOR YOU!)

Dear Julius,

Oh, not necessarily you, Mr Malema – this is intended for all the Juliuses, Tumi’s. Jan Rappe (and their friends), Toms, Dicks, Harrys, Jane and John Does of South Africa (or, in fact, to anyone who cares to read this). So many people air their views on “racial issues” these days, so I thought – Why not join the conversation? After all, I still believe that communication is more constructive than burning city halls or campuses.

I am frequently reminded that I am white and Afrikaans and therefore in a privileged position. Well, am I? Privileged, that is – these days I’m not so sure. I did have a bicycle (metaphorically and a real one, too) when I was a child, but it was not stolen (referring to the now infamous remark by Jacaranda-Tumi). My dad worked his butt off to buy me that bike – and, of course, everything else that we possessed. He worked on the railways (as we used to say) and, as the eldest son from a poor family, as many Afrikaans families in the 1930’s and 1940’s were, he had to leave the nest at 16 to help provide for the family – like many other young men. When I was a child, my school, with asbestos classrooms (can you believe it!) had very few facilities. That is why every single pupil eagerly took part in planting lawns for a sports field and establishing the gardens. Many an afternoon, after school, was spent doing this. With the proceeds of fundraising projects, everyone – including moms and dads – worked  hard to bring about facilities such as a school hall, sports equipment and a piano. We really worked hard for that.

We never discussed politics in our house. My parents taught us to treat all people with respect – whether they were street sweepers or soldiers, servants or bank managers. All people were treated with respect; black, white, brown – everyone. What they also taught us – well, actually it was not really necessary to teach – is to condemn certain acts and deeds. We were, for example, not particularly keen about burglars and killers. Robbers and vandals, too, never received any Christmas cards from us. Nor did paedophiles and men who abused their wives. Oh yes, and of course racists. Yes, there were definitely people who we did not want to be associated with, but then it was not because of who they were or the colour of their skin, but rather about what they were doing. But with people, ordinary law-abiding people who allowed the sun to shine on their fellow-countrymen, we never had a problem with.

Granted, we did not have any close black friends. We did not have any English, French, Portuguese or American friends either. But it wasn’t because we did not like them. Oh no! It was just that, at the time, we kept to what was familiar to us – our language, church, habits and so on. Frankly, even today, I see how most cultural groups (is there still such a thing as culture?) socialise. But despite that, today my own children’s friends come from all walks of the cultural spectrum. By the way, just between me and you, I think all of us, to a greater or lesser extent, have a bit of “racism” in us. This is probably the reason why I regularly see birds of a feather flock together, especially in communities and on social occasions.

Oh, please bear with me. My babbling up to now was just sort of an introduction. I actually have something else on my mind. Well, two things. Part of me is sad and upset. I also want to explain something and then I also want to see if I can get an answer to an issue that is bothering me. Well, OK, that’s three things, then.

I’m sad, outraged and discouraged by the actions of “my” people. Oh, by the way, I have yet to mention that I have been living in England for some time now. All my possessions are still in storage, patiently waiting for me to return to my beloved South Africa, though. Working conditions, or rather , the lack of it, forced me to spread my wings a bit wider to earn my bread. Affirmative action, where the colour of my skin counted against me, left me struggling to find another job in South Africa. I am therefore in a position to observe the events in South Africa from a distance – almost like a foreigner. By no means does this suggest that I am not South African, which I remain with all my heart and soul – compassionate, loyal and involved. Some of my friends regard me as the most loyal Cheetah and Springbok supporter in the world.

With every visit to South Africa, I am overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness of “my” people – South Africans from the rainbow nation. This is so in contrast to what I observe in the newspapers (no, not necessarily the news reports – it is the insulting remarks by readers following the news reports) and on social media, the intolerance, the murders, the inflammatory protest marches, farm murders and the destruction of everything that we and our ancestors worked so hard for.

 

And that’s why I’m sad and outraged.

I firmly believe that the majority of South Africans truly just want to live in peace and harmony. To feel the warmth of the African sun on them and their families. I always compare South Africa to a glass of clean, wholesome, fresh milk. With a fly in it. And that little fly is the reason why that otherwise pure, fresh milk is spoiled and has lost its appeal. A minority group, a small fly – I believe – that envenoms a whole country. Sixty million people are suffering the affects of these murderers, thugs, corruptors, racists, inciters and the like. People of all creeds and colour who incite hate and intolerance, resulting in stereotyping, hatred and mistrust.

Speaking of stereotyping. It remains a worldwide tendency that will always be a stumbling block towards healthy and peaceful relations between cultures. I regularly witness the suspicion held of Muslims here in Europe (and elsewhere, for that matter) when they board trains or enter public spaces, especially when carrying a backpack. Or how the Romanian gypsies are welcomed nowhere with open arms because all of Europe know what a premises, where they have stayed, look like when they pack up to move on again. And how Nigerians are approached with great caution when money is at stake. Or how the racist remarks and actions of a minority (from all walks of life) taint all the good relations in South Africa. There are many such examples and the common factor leading to this distrust, is almost always the actions of a minority group within those cultures. Here in England, blacks are a minority group. Nevertheless, it is interesting how the police have to jump through hoops to explain their “racist actions” every time after stopping a young black man to search for weapons. Because in 98% of the cases, young black men were involved in knife attacks. And now, all young black men in England and all Muslims (worldwide) are suffering because of the actions of a small group. They are being stereotyped.

As a young conscript in the South African Defence Force, we had to fight off the “Red Danger” and the “Black Danger” and, at the time, it was not that difficult to convince me that they were indeed “dangerous”. In cinemas and newspapers the Red Russians were always portrayed as the villains and as a child, our burglars  – and there were quite a few – were all black men. At school we learned how the Zulus and the Xhosas slaughtered the Voortrekkers. Hollywood showed me in the Tarzan movies how the black “cannibals” cooked the whites in big pots. Stereotyping at its best (or worst).

And that confused me, because those images and preconceptions of black people were light years apart from my experiences of daily interactions with people like moruti Mohatla (the friendly preacher who knocked on our door every month for donations for his congregation), Martha (our dear ironing lady), Gabriel (our hardworking gardener), Pechu and Bunny – with their parents, Mieta and Elias – (the warm, lovely people who lived and worked on my uncles’s farm) and so many more. I could not understand why they were not allowed to go to the cinema or church with us. But, then I assumed that, maybe the powers that be were worried that, when they allowed them to go to church and cinema with us, the dangerous lot of cannibals, burglars and slaughterers would also sneak in. Yeah, that is what I was thinking as a child.

Apartheid and racism are wrong! Full stop. It was just immoral to exclude the majority of South Africa’s inhabitants from all that this glorious country of us can offer. Having said that, despite the fact that it was very easy for me to vote “Yes” at the time when we were asked if we wanted to share the power in the country with our black fellow citizens, there was an uneasy worrying feeling deep inside me. A few years later, Johannes, my black gardener, experienced the same troubling thoughts when he was allowed to vote for the first time. I remember how he came to ask my opinion on who he should give his vote to, because, like me, he was also too aware of what was happening in other African countries north of our borders. Collapse of infrastructure, corruption, famine, tribal wars and genocide.

Why were so many white people (and, yes, even black people, like Johannes) in South Africa worried about power sharing? Was it because of the images that got stuck in their memories? Images of the Mau Mau’s, the Congolese Crisis, the faction fights in many African countries or the disintegration of infrastructure all over Africa? Or was it, perhaps, witnessing the total collapse of a once prosperous country like Rhodesia/Zimbabwe in a relatively short time under Robert Mugabe’s dictatorship.

What is happening in South Africa today, almost 20 years later? As in Zimbabwe, farmers in South Africa are now being murdered and driven from their farms at an alarming rate – by black people. As in Zimbabwe, the people keep one of the most corrupt governments in the world in power (as at the time of writing). Crime and decline of infrastructure is a worrying issue and even receive regular international mentioning. Every week reports of yet another destructive protest cripples our country bit by bit with images of burning buses, trains and buildings spreading like wildfire across the world. Machete wielding blacks barricading roads with stones and burning tyres in protest of the actions (or lack thereof) of the same government that they keep in power – and then looting and destroying property of people who have absolutely nothing to do with the protest action. These are the images that I struggle to explain to my neighbours here in England. I struggle to fight off the returning haunting demons of what-ifs that Johannes and I had battled with all those years back.

 

This is why I am distraught. I feel betrayed by the people to whom Johannes and I entrusted the country that I so deeply love. My worst fears when I made my cross at the polling station all those years back, has come to haunt me. While I’m rejoicing about moruti Mohatla, Martha, Gabriel, Pechu and Bunny who can now go to church and cinema with me, I am all torn up about  those “cannibals and burglars and slaughterers” who did sneak in. Those who are doing exactly now what we were worried about all those years back.

OK, those were two of the issues I wanted to get off my chest. Now for the third one – my question.

I truly want to understand the mentality, the reasoning and thought behind so many actions of black people. Because with understanding comes empathy and empathy leads to healing, acceptance and unity. My whole being yearns for peace and unity.

Could someone please explain to me why, in a modern world and with so many opportunities, black people, whether minority or majority groups, are still victims and still insist on affirmative action across the world. Imagine the outcry if there was a Miss White America pageant? But there is a Miss Black America pageant!  And the Black British Business Awards, the National Association of Black Journalists, and many more associations exclusively for black people .

In the United Kingdom, a traditional European (read white) country, there are special provisions for the appointment of minority groups (read black people). In South Africa, where black people form the majority, there are quota selections for sports teams, and affirmative action in the workplace and so many more enforcements to give black people, often not on merit, an advantage to prove themselves. Isn’t it degrading?

Successful black people like Nat King Cole, Mohammed Ali, Desmond Tutu, the Williams sisters, Deratu Tulu, Mo Farrah, Ussain Bolt, Tiger Woods, James Earl Jones – too many to name, got to the top of their game with shear hard work and perseverance. No affirmative action, quota selections or special treatment. No sir! They were – and are still – being honoured and loved  by the whole world because of their achievements. They’ve earned respect. I don’t see a black person when watching Idris Alba or listening to Gregory Porter. I see a hugely talented human being. I prefer to surround myself with positive, forward-thinking, hardworking people. The majority of my friends – and all of my black friends – tick those boxes.

Oh, and another thing. Why do many black people insist on taking over (and sometimes even destroy!) establishments that were established over years with love, hard work and traditions by white people. Let me give you an example – universities for Afrikaans students, to name but one. Why don’t you (or us) just build universities for Zulu’s or Sotho’s? Hijacking and destructive actions like these remind me of the story about the ants who work hard all year round to gather food and then the locusts come and just help themselves to the ants’ hard-earned food until there is nothing left for either of them. Look what is happening (or, more correctly, not happening) all over Africa – arguably the most beautiful continent with so much potential. Every so often European countries or America have to provide food, or medicine or other necessities. I never see vice versa actions. What is preventing Africa from developing and producing enough food and care for its people? So-called Western countries are for ever assisting some African country or another, going from one crisis to the other, because, after all these years, very little development took shape. It is almost as if there is no future vision or planning ahead. Why?

And please, don’t play the oppression card. So many nations across the world, over centuries, suffered oppression. The Jews, the Afrikaners, the Irish, the Czechs … too many to mention. But they did not stay down. They rose from the ashes and became proud nations. But not in Africa. Zimbabwe, to name but one country, was demolished in a relatively short period under a black government. Is this where South Africa is heading to?

To conclude. What and who I like and don’t like, who I love and don’t love do not make me a racist. Being a racist makes one a racist – people who don’t like others just because of their skin colour. I condemn actions and thoughts, not people.

I was not responsible for what happened to black people anywhere in the world and you have no right or grounds to blame me for your circumstances or your history. It is almost 2018 and time for those of you who keep blaming me to change your attitude. The past is the past. Neither you, nor I – no-one! – can change anything about the past. If we keep living in the past, blaming the whole world for our circumstances, we will never be able to focus on the future. Nothing drags you down like bitterness and hatred. Blaming others and calling others racist just because they are today’s whites, makes you a racist. I am as proud of my country, South Africa, as the next person. I was born there, that is where my roots are. When Africa is in your blood, it is in your blood, your soul, your life. What happened to our ancestors, had nothing to do with me and you. Like you, I wasn’t there. I don’t still blame the British government, after all these years, for all the killings, scorched earth policy and humiliation of the Afrikaners during the Boer War. The rest of Europe do not still blame the Germans for World War II. They have made peace, moved on and rebuild. They focus their energy on today and beyond.

Isn’t it time we’d do the same? Take hands and build a country, a safe haven for us and for our children. How many more years do we want to continue this conflict, this hatred, this destruction?

Like another impressive famous black man, I, too, have a dream. I dream of a peaceful rainbow nation – one rainbow, different cultures.

The South Africa it can be!

With the kindest of regards,

Andre

 

MAY GOD BLESS SOUTH AFRICA

MAY GOD BLESS SOUTH AFRICA

(Despite being an Afrikaans boytjie, I will try my best to do this in English in an effort to make it accessible to non-Afrikaans speaking readers as well.)

I am probably as distraught about the recent spate of farm murders in South Africa as the next person. The pictures of blood-soaked rooms and  grief-stricken faces of friends and family in the newspapers, left me staring at the ceiling in the dark room at night.

Cry my beloved country.

So why am I not changing my profile picture on Facebook in support of the farmers? I am, after all, a proud Boerseun (with a capital B) and have people very dear to me making a living off the red soil of South Africa.

I read many South African (and international) newspapers every day ( not just the Afrikaans publications which are aimed at a specific target market). I read about the joys and heartaches in so many homes across the country – from farmsteads to suburban homes and shacks. About the brutal killings of our farmers, the senseless murders in our secured suburbs and the daily heartbreak of yet another killing or ten in townships and squatter camps.

I watched a programme about the Chinese philosopher, Confucius, last night. He also lived in a time when his country was buckling under turmoil and political transgression. Many of his aphorisms are still quoted today. One of them, is:

Before you go on a journey of revenge, dig two graves

We all are in a state of despair and shock and frustration and we all want to shout: Enough is enough!

Enough is indeed enough, so what are we going to do about it? Fight fire with fire? How many more deaths as a result? Will it really solve the problem? Is this war going to end, like most other wars, in destruction and death and further hate?

Confucius also said:

If your plan is for one year, plant rice.

If your plan is for ten years, plant trees.

But if your plan is for hundred years, educate.

We are all occupying ourselves with short term plans. We protest against current issues and burn busses and universities and discuss revenge plans around the braai with no vision of the consequences of the lasting effect of our selfish acts. What are we leaving behind for our children and grandchildren? What will they, one day, read about us in their history books?

When I read the different comments of ordinary people in newspapers, see the conduct of some people at shop counters and listen to conversations at social gatherings, I realise why I am staring at the ceiling at night. Another one of the wise old Chinese man springs to mind:

Attack the evil that is within yourself

Rather than attacking the evil that is in others.

Stop stereotyping all people. Not all whites are racists and not all blacks are non-racists. Not every black person is a Zuma or a criminal or a killer and, yes, white people are also corrupt and they do kill people. We should unite against the corrupt government, their sponsors and cronies  and make them accountable for their actions (or lack of it).

The moment we realise that we are all inhabitants of the same country, under the same law (or disrespect of it), victims of the same criminals and all dependant on the same sun, rain and air, we will make progress towards unity. And unity is what we want. Unity against the thugs, and killers and the corrupt government. And against people who don’t want to share this beautiful country with others who are not the same as them.

And for that reason I am not changing my profile picture, because I do not want to marginalise any of the good people in South Africa. I support the farmer, the housewife, the teacher, the policeman, the car guard and all the souls in South Africa who try to bring about unity. People who don’t engage in hate crime, destruction, murder, rape, child molestation and so many of the horrible actions that fill the news columns of newspapers worldwide. I support people who can truly embrace the words of our Lord:

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

Let us show our condemnation of the farm attacks by wearing black T-shirts or changing our Facebook profiles or by any non-destructive way we want. But keep in mind that there are so many more victims of all walks of life. We should unite and combine our energy against CRIME and CORRUPTION in our country.   Full-stop!

I remain on my knees: Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika!

Let’s shake hands on that.

ELVES AND DIESEL ENGINES

ELVES AND DIESEL ENGINES

Have you ever stood on a platform at the station while a diesel locomotive effortlessly glides past you? The smooth reassuring rumbling of that immensely powerful machine demands admiration while the trembles of the platform find their way up your legs. You just know that a mighty powerful force is at work here.

I’ve often linked the well-known saying: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going” with this diesel-power and found some inspiration in it. I made myself believe that humanity consists of two main groups: Ordinary Elves (OE’s) and the Tough Diesel Engines (TDE’s). The Ordinary Elves represent the majority of people who are responsible for the normal day to day running of life as we know it. They get ready for work, go to work, do their work, go home, watch TV and go to bed. They are very important because they do just about everything from cleaning our streets, working in the offices, building our cars and houses, to making our clothes, nursing us, teaching us, defending and protecting us. Everything… up to a certain point. The OE’s only work until things start to heat up, when the challenges get more demanding and stress levels start rising.

That’s the signal for The Tough Diesel Engines to start up. When the OE’s can’t go any further, the TDE’s take over. You hear that mighty rumble and stand in awe. The TDE’s work, even when others sleep; they seem to get a sadistic pleasure out of problem-crunching. They never ask for pity but, hey, neither will they give a problem any. They don’t know the meaning of surrender; they persevere in the midst of adversities, battle their way onwards, forwards, always forwards.

Are you a TDE or an OE?

One of the South African Defence Force’s elite units has a back-breakingly harsh selection and training program. Many try, but only a few make it to the end. The last phase of the program demands a survival route where the soldiers have to find their way in the most inhospitable environment and under the most unforgiving conditions imaginable. As the days drag by, the group of hopefuls dwindles because at the temporally bases transport is ready for those who wish. It’s your choice: allow the whole exercise to get the better of you and make use of the transport (and get disqualified in the process) or force yourself onward vigorously with the utmost exertion. 

One pitch dark night an unfortunate soldier walked straight into a dry twig from a low-hanging tree branch. The twig impaled him in the eye, just missing his eyeball and blood was pouring from his wound. That same night another guy broke his ankle. These two decided not to go for treatment that would have put them at risk of disqualification and, after applying a bit of very basic medical treatment themselves, they pushed on.

As the days progress, you start to lose all sense of time and the only drive, ultimately, is to reach the prearranged rendezvous in time.

Unbeknown to the soldiers, the end of the course was in sight and, after a day with barely enough water supplies, the men reached the rendezvous, semi-conscious, anguished, hungry and dehydrated. The commander came up to them where they were huddled in a cloud of dust, flies and the sweaty smell of protracted scorching days in the bush on them. He addressed them – gesturing while clutching an icy cold beer. Pausing for a moment, he took a long sip, looked at the bottle and then emptied the content onto the absorbing sand, within sniffing distance of the shattered men. The beer was not cold enough.

“Guys,” he said, “I’m going to enjoy a colder one in the base after taking a long hot shower. Anyone care to join me? Transport is ready – anyone?”

Two men cracked then and there and stumbled to the waiting Land Rover. While two others tried to suck the wasted beer from the sand, the commander informed the remaining men that the next day would be the final day of this grueling encounter and that they could expect a barbeque and cold beer at the rendezvous.

With renewed effort and all the strength they could muster, they tackled the final stage.

The next evening, on approaching the rendezvous, the depleted group of men, drained to the bone, noticed a solitary Land Rover, nothing else. The closer they got, the clearer it became: no barbeque-fire, no beer, nothing to eat. Some of them flopped down onto their knees in a cloud of dust and started weeping. During the day they had consumed all their water and rations – no need to save it because, so they had been told the previous night, tonight the end of this phase would be celebrated with plenty to eat and drink. Of the initial squad, only nine had survived. The commander then stepped out of the Land Rover and walked towards the wretched group of men.

“Listen guys, there’s been a misunderstanding and I admit that I’m the one to blame. I got the dates mixed up, and I’m truly, truly sorry. Tomorrow, not today, will be the end of this phase. As a token of my remorse, I’ve brought you a little something to eat. It’s on the Land Rover. I will completely understand if some of you want to go back with me, there’s plenty of space on the Land Rover. The rest of you, get your instructions for tomorrow and something to eat.”

Two men summarily got onto the Land Rover, Their grazed, grey faces, empty eyes sunken into the sockets, told the whole story of disappointment and disillusionment. The remaining seven opened the stainless steel food container – raw cabbage drenched in diesel. No water either, only their instructions. Was it a sadistic smile on the commander’s face as he started the engine? Another guy got onto the vehicle. The remaining six contemplated the long, dry stretch ahead of them, and then started walking.

About two kilometers further, as they came round a hill, they could at first smell it and then they saw it: a campsite with flames from barbeque-fires and cold beers to welcome them. The end of their ordeal!

What went through the minds of those guys on the Land Rover? If only they’d held on for two more kilometres – two kilometres stood between them and a victory!

All so often we throw in the towel without really knowing how close we are to success. Isn’t it worthwhile, after all the pain and suffering, to give it one more push? Are we not just two kilometres away from victory?

My mother engraved a saying in my memory and even when the diesel engine wearies, her catchphrase echoes:

NEVER SAY DIE, GET UP AND TRY!

May you experience God’s loving care in the same abundance I have.

God bless.

IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE, THIS E-BOOK CAN BE ORDERED FROM:

1. Unemployment, you and …

2. Unemployment, You and…

3. Unemployment…

 

STILTE

STILTE

Die watergevulde kelder in Winchester katedraal

Daar’s mos baie soorte stiltes.

Kyk, jy kan vir enige pa van ‘n tienerdogter vra oor wakkerlê-stiltes. Dis nou wanneer die pa wakkerlê en wonder hoekom dit so  stil is daar waar daai einste dogter met haar kêrel in die sitkamer is. Veral wanneer die pa nog kan onthou van die dae, baie lank gelede, toe hy ook so saam met ‘n ander pa se dogter in die sitkamer gesit het.

Dan kry jy katedraalstiltes wanneer jy ‘n gebou soos die Notre Dame binnestap en die swaar houtdeur sluit die buitegeluide agter jou uit. Sulke stiltes het  ‘n reuk ook. En dis ook nie heeltemal stil nie, want mense fluister en neem foto’s.

Die stilte voor ‘n storm, enige storm, kan senutergend raak. Dis nóú stil, maar iets gaan gebeur, dit broei. Jou maag voel dit en jou nekspiere raak styf. Hierdie stilte hoef ook nie regtig iets met die weer te doen hê nie.

Daardie stilte onder die sterre van ‘n Karoonag – ‘n stilte wat jy in jou gebeente voel, deur jou are voel pomp. ‘n Dankbare, lofliedstilte. Nou en dan is daar die geluid van ‘n nagdier, verder niks behalwe jou asemhaling en hartklop nie.

Vir my is die ergste stilte egter daardie koue stilte. Stilte wat jy met ‘n mes kan sny.

Byvoorbeeld.

Jy ry in die kar, dalk effens te naby aan die padprop voor jou. Jy weet wie sy nommerplaat gemaak het, want jy kan duidelik die plakker in klein lettertjies sien. Maar dit pla jou nie. Hoekom beweeg hy nie oor na die stadige baan nie!  Jy’s haastig, want julle is laat. Eintlik is dit jou blom wat langs jou sit se skuld, want vroumense draai mos altyd. (Amper altyd. Oukei … soms.) Maar jy sê niks, konsentreer op die pad, probeer tyd wen.

Jy flits ligte, praat en beduie: “Beweeg oor na die ander baan, jou uil!” (Goed, ek skryf uil ter wille van wie ook al hier lees, maar dit is nie werklik wat gesê word nie.) Jy weet voor jou siel jy moenie so naby die ou ry nie. Jy weet dis gevaarlik en waarskynlik die oorsaak van die meeste ongelukke. Maar jy is die beste bestuurder in die wêreld. Mos. Jy kan vinnig rem as daar gerem moet word. Buitendien, dis die uil (sien verduideliking hierbo) hier voor jou wat verkeerd is. Hy moet bietjie ‘n les geleer word. Mos. Jou ligteflits het geen effek op hom nie.

Blom kom in beweging. “Bedaar, bedaar!  Jy kan nie so op die man se stert sit nie, my maggies. Jy maak hom senuweeagtig.” Sy trap rem, maar daar is geen pedale waar sy sit nie.

Al die goed wat sy sê, weet jy, maar iewers spring ‘n spiertjie.

“Wil jy bestuur?” vra jy met jou kalmste stemtoon. Sy ken egter al jou stemtone, almal van hulle.

“Jy gaan ons verongeluk. Ry net stadiger.”

“Luister, as jy nie so gedraai het nie, dan hoef ek nie nou so te gejaag het nie.” Effens ander stemtoon.

Jy wéét eintlik dat dit nie die werklike rede vir die gejaag is nie, want jy ry altyd te vinnig. Die duike in die vloer aan die passasierskant waar Blom altyd vastrap, getuig daarvan.

“Ek… ag, jy…” probeer sy, maar sy is nou te warm om behoorlik te dink. “Reg, ry soos jy wil. Ek maak nie weer my mond oop nie, maar…”

En met daardie “maar” pak sy ‘n gevaarlike wapen uit.

Stilte.

‘n Ysige stilte sak oor jou toe. Daai een wat wat rillings teen jou ruggraat laat afgly, wat die sweetdruppels in jou nek laat vries. Jy besef jou fout en probeer haar hand vat om dinge in trurat te gooi.  Jy ry selfs stadiger en beweeg oor na die middelbaan. Maar dis te laat. Sy gooi haar gewig op haar linkerboud, trek haar hand weg en kyk by die venster aan haar kant uit.

Stilte. Dit kom lê soos ‘n sak mielies op jou bors, kom vou soos ‘n nat mus om jou kop.

Julle bereik jul bestemming veilig. So tussen die groetery en glimlagte probeer jy weer, maar haar hand is weer te vinnig vir jou. Jy vat haar om die lyf. Sy glimlag vir die gasvrou en kners vir jou. Jy hou jou greep om haar middel.

Soos die aand aanstap, begin die ys so staaadigaan te smelt. Die stiltegordyn maak op ‘n skrefie oop. Haar hand word stadiger weggeruk.

Ssjjjjjjt… Versigtig nou.

YOU ARE THE MASTER OF YOUR DESTINY

THERE ARE THREE TYPES OF PEOPLE:
THOSE WHO MAKE THINGS HAPPEN,
THOSE WHO WATCH THINGS HAPPEN AND
THOSE WHO WONDER WHAT HAPPENED.
                                                          ANONOMOUS

Believe in yourself. Give yourself a chance. Be daring but not reckless. Listen selectively to other people; ask their advice and opinion and evaluate it with an open mind.

ANOTHER EXCERPT FROM:UNEMPLOYMENT, YOU AND GOD’S RESCUE LADDER

(Advice on how to get back to your feet after life has dealt you a blow. In this case, job loss is used as an example, but the principles can be applied to most setbacks.)

Sometimes a supposed weakness in your make up could be the result of a poor self-esteem or lack of confidence. Perhaps merely a nasty seed that someone planted earlier in your life and now you firmly believe that you have a weakness without ever really putting it to the test.

If you believe that you are not a good salesperson, then you will definitely not sell anything. But if you decide: Let’s see, if I prepare myself well and I believe in my product and I introduce my own unique style where I focus on honesty, sincerity and excellent service, who knows where I could end up. BUT, then your approach shouldn’t be halfheartedly. No! Go for it, wholeheartedly, enthusiastically and with all the confidence you can muster.  Such an attitude has been the modest start for several contemporary successful people.

If I know deep in my soul that I’m not a strong swimmer, there is no way that I will dive into the deep end of a swimming pool. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I have to stay clear of swimming pools. I can start at the shallow end and on my own, in my own way, learn to swim. Or I can get professional coaching and before you know it, in no time, I will swim confidently at the deep end of the pool.

Be sensible when you tackle something on a larger scale, something that will require knowledge, experience or skills if the task involves one of your so-called weaknesses. Do not necessarily avoid it, but rather strive to get as much information, training and understanding about your endeavour as possible, before you attempt it. Start, perhaps, on a smaller scale, move slightly to the shallower end of the swimming pool. The experience will follow inevitably.

This exercise is a lot of fun, but it will lead you to more serious issues. It will make you think; it will teach you about yourself and stimulate your brain into future directions and resolve many past issues. It is a soul-searching experience that will give answers to who you are and what possibilities there are for you.

Change Yourself

This is also a very good opportunity to look at all those things that you have always been meaning to change about yourself. Every one of us has traits that we want to change. Some wish to stop smoking; others try to lose a bit of weight, eat healthier or get fitter. There are people who would like to change their attitude by, for instance, becoming more self-assertive. Most things you want to change about yourself, only you can do. Decide what you want to change and start today by setting attainable goals for yourself. Find support and help if necessary, but for crying out loud, just start. Why not today?

This, conversely, will be a futile exercise if not engaged in positively. Pessimism at this point is one of your major enemies and the enemy will always strive to destroy you. Be warned: do not let this dreadful monster overwhelm you. Concentrate continuously on staying positive. Oh, you will be exposed to setbacks all the time, real hazards, like rolling waves. The tests of true resilience, though, does not lie in the number of times you have been knocked down by these waves, but in the number of times you stood up again after being flattened. Don’t get discouraged when it happens. Learn from your setbacks and get up!

Be on your guard and concentrate not to decline into a pathetic little bundle – filled with self-pity. Think of films that you have seen or even personal experiences with people. You almost get annoyed with those people who feel so sorry for themselves. They seem to feel the world and mankind owe them. This can eventually develop into a serious “illness”. Very soon they don’t want to do or try anything, because “What’s the use?” Everything and everyone is always against them. They have made up their minds beforehand that they will not come up to scratch and the only thing that will make them happy again is when this “everyone and everything” change their attitudes towards them, when the goddess of fortune smiles at them again. Until that happens, they just sit as pathetic little bundles, waiting for some amazing thing to happen.

It is NOT going to happen. YOU will have to make it happen. Let me tell you a secret: the goddess of fortune and the tooth fairy are one and the same. They live with the Sandman and Santa Claus in Never-Never land. Sorry to burst your bubble, but they don’t exist.

Sometimes we get the impression that some people just have all the luck in the world. This is simply not true. There are two things that we have to realise. One is about perceptions and the other about opportunities.

Let’s have a look at perceptions first.

Suppose your car breaks down. You have had it up to your ears with this heap of scrap. That same day your friend passes you driving a brand new car and the following day you overhear the guy at the coffee table next to you telling his friend about his new entertainment system at home. Immediately you get the impression: How on earth can EVERYBODY afford new things and I have to plod on with my junk-on-wheels? What you don’t know is that this coffee shop-guy has been saving up to buy his entertainment system for years now and that your friend has had an accident, written off his car and compelled by necessity, had no choice but to get a new set of wheels. For the next year or more they will have to tighten their belts to afford the re-payments. What’s more, you have to realise that millions of people will cross your path and from time to time some of those millions of people will buy something new. Not EVERYBODY. Tomorrow your wife will have to buy a new pair of shoes (because by now the old ones are really in shreds) and then the wife of the new-car-friend will envy your wife while thinking: “When last could I buy myself a new pair of shoes?”

Every one of us, therefore, receives the occasional bit of “good fortune”.  You may only have the PERCEPTION that other people have more “good fortunes” than you, but dig a little deeper and decide for yourself if you would swap roles with them and have all their “bad luck” together with all their “good fortunes”.

What about opportunities?

Every one of us has opportunities. Not necessarily the same opportunities, but opportunities none the less. The supposedly “fortunate, chosen ones” have developed a way of spotting an opportunity when it presents itself and what’s more, they grab these opportunities. How many times have we been in a position to risk something, but then we hesitate and the opportunity vanishes? Sometimes, subsequently, we are relieved that we didn’t take the risk, but often another person takes a similar chance and reaps huge rewards from it. It is a fact that, very often, risks lead to failure. That’s true, but this is where the big difference between “pathetic little bundles” and successful people becomes apparent.  Pathetic little bundles think: “O gosh, not again! I should have known; I don’t know why I even bother any more. I am a washout”. Then they flop down in the dumps, disappointed and angry.

The successful people, after a failure, think: “Oops”.

That’s it. Then they immediately set off on the look-out for a new opportunity. Oh, you know, to compensate for the “slight mishap”.

You will have down times.

You really have to be made of rock or iron not to have the occasional down time. Hey look man, you are human; you do have feelings and a heart. Allow yourself such a blue mood. Cry if you want to. Permit a moment or so to feel a little sorry for yourself, but don’t drag it out; that is when you will sink.

What really helped me when I hit the depths was to break away. It often came about at the very time when I could least afford a break. My conscience was shouting at me: “Hey! What on earth are you thinking? There’s work to be done. The whole place will fall apart if you take a break now!”

Nonetheless I took some time off.

So, what did I do then? I went to the movies during cheap time. Or I went to a tranquil spot, lit a fire and put a sausage on the grill. In the city where I lived there were these glorious botanical gardens. I sometimes went there for a jog or just to spend the afternoon amongst the luscious plants and shady trees. The important thing is to do something that distracts your attention from your heavy heart. Do something therapeutic where you can destroy the vicious circle of your thoughts. As soon as you have achieved that, start putting together new elevating thoughts.

Talk to God, talk to Him out loud. Tell Him how you feel, what you are experiencing. Tell Him also how you would like it to be and what you are doing to accomplish that. Before long you will find that, between you and God, you set off to sort things out. Life will begin to fall into place and solutions for many problems will start to emerge. If you trust God with your problems and ambitions, He sows seeds that will grow in your thoughts and bear all sorts of clever solutions. It is not as if you are asking Him to solve the problem for you and you don’t try and solve it on your own. You do it together. Go ahead, try it.

When I got back home or to the office again after such a session, nothing had really disintegrated. Everything was still there. I could, after all, afford to take a break. Then I tackled the challenges with renewed eagerness.

So, if you take a bit of a dip, when dark clouds start to gather, don’t give up. Just take a break. Go down on your knees (just as far as your knees, not on your stomach, curled up in that pathetic little bundle that people make doormats from) and hand all your troubles over to God. Stay on your knees so that it is easier for you to stand up straight when you have regained your strength.

During such a break you get to learn a lot about yourself. It gives you the opportunity to distance yourself somehow from the problem; to view the problem rather as an outsider. From a distance, subsequently, the problem doesn’t appear that big at all.

Ultimately, you have the chance of a moment alone – with yourself, to sort yourself out.

IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE, THIS E-BOOK CAN BE ORDERED FROM:

1. UNEMPLOYMENT, YOU AND GOD’S RESCUE LADDER

2. UNEMPLOYMENT, YOU, AND …

3. UNEMPLOYMENT, YOU AND …

YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS LIFE

YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS LIFE

WHEN IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO CHANGE OUR CIRCUMSTANCES, IT IS WELL WITHIN OUR POWER TO CHANGE OUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS OUR CIRCUMSTANCES.
Hennie Zeelie. Translated from Deur ‘n ander bril. Lux Verbi

My attitude to my circumstances very often dictates my actions as well as the end result.

At some stage or another in our lives, we have all been touched by astonishing accounts of people who have risen above their circumstances. When I find myself in such a position, though, it is not always that easy to be objective about it.

(THIS IS AN EXTRACT FROM MY E-BOOK, UNEMPLOYMENT, YOU AND GOD’S RESCUE LADDER )

I remember one occasion while I was in the army during the bush war in Angola. We were on a grueling, lengthy patrol and after nine stressed days filled with intense concentration, surviving on ration packs and carrying heavy kit, drenched after a heavy thunderstorm, we decided to set up camp for the night. Most of us, whacked and fed-up, slouched down onto the driest wet spot, propped up against our backpacks. One chap cynically-sarcastic remarked:

“Here I am, plodding along like a wet dog in the mud while some lucky blighter” – not his actual choice of words – “is making out with my girlfriend under a warm duvet – stuffed to his eyeballs with pancakes and hot coffee!”

A grunt, loosely translated into, “We hear you…” came from the squad. One of the guys who was on guard, sitting on a huge boulder a couple of yards away, sardonically replied:

“They can make out all they want, but they don’t have the view that I’ve got here.”

We all got up to have a look. Where he was positioned on that boulder, he had a panoramic view of a gorge framed by the most stunning rainbow. It was so breathtakingly beautiful that the whole incident has remained with me till this day.

While the rest of us immersed ourselves in our own miserable thoughts, one man – who was in the same boat as the rest of us – drew inspiration from the most spectacular view.

In the original musical, Time, by Dave Clarke the character, Akash – brilliantly played by the late Sir Laurence Olivier, delivers the following verdict:

Throughout the universe there is order
In the movement of the planets, in nature
and in the functioning of the human mind.
A mind that, in its natural state of order,
is in harmony with the universe
and such a mind is timeless.

 Your life is an expression of your mind.
You are the creator of your own Universe –
For as a human being, you are free to will whatever
state of being you desire through the use of your
thoughts and words.
There is great power there.
It can be a blessing or a curse –
It’s entirely up to you.
For the quality of your life is brought about
by the quality of your thinking –
think about that.

Thoughts produce actions –
look at what you’re thinking.
See the pettiness and the envy and the greed and the
fear and all the other attitudes that cause
you pain and discomfort.
Realize that the one thing you have absolute
control over is your attitude.
See the effect that it has on those around you
for each life is linked to all life
and your words carry with them chain reactions
like a stone that is thrown into a pond.

If your thinking is in order,
your words will flow directly from the heart
creating ripples of love.
If you truly want to change your world, my friends,
you must change your thinking.
Reason is your greatest tool,
it creates an atmosphere of understanding,
which leads to caring which is love

Choose your words with care.
Go forth … with love.

Thoughts, all our actions (except reflexes) originate in our minds. Consider for a moment that action can also be to do nothing. You actively decide to do nothing about a situation. Our attitude towards other people too, or even particular issues, is being controlled by our thoughts. If you don’t feel like facing someone today, it is your mind duping you into believing that you have some grudge, dislike or perhaps envy against that person. Or if you keep shunning a specific task, it is your mind preventing you from getting on with it. Your mind tells you that you can’t do it or you wouldn’t like it or it’s much better to take a nap or something. No-one else. And who controls your mind? You! It can indeed be manipulated by external factors – if you allow it – but ultimately you are in control of your mind.

In a restaurant, on a napkin, I once read the following striking words:

“In each of us, two natures are at war – the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them and one of them must conquer. But in our hands lies the power to choose – what we want most to be, we are”.

How do you feel about your current situation, what does your mind tell you? If you think you are crestfallen then you will feel depressed. If you think you are in high spirits, you will be motivated.

Thoughts should not, however, be confused with dreams, day dreaming. If I dream of how I will be a successful businessman, then I am not one yet.

Dreams are good. They provoke thoughts. But only real thoughts set actions in motion. It changes your attitude, your mind set, your approach and your actions.

A lot of us don’t know what or where we want to be. We do know what we do not want to be. I do not want to be in jail. I do not want to be a failure. That is a fact.

So what do I want to be?

Content? Happy?

When will I be happy? Ah, now we are getting somewhere.

What will have to change, what will have to take place, before I declare:

“Now I have reached the pinnacle of happiness”?

I can now dream on…

Or I can start thinking, putting thoughts in motion, plan, and act.

I think – and this is merely a personal view – people are at their happiest when they are successful. A successful marriage, a successful career, a successful relationship with your Creator, in short, we will be happy when we have a successful, well-balanced life. Is this an illusion? I don’t think so.

It all depends on how you measure success. If success has a material basis, it will always be a dream because everything with a material basis is transient, it is insatiable. I have never come across someone who has got enough money. I still have to meet a lady who is pleased with her appearance (her eyes are too small, her hips are too wide, too many wrinkles, too much of this or too few of that). I also haven’t met a man yet who is happy with his car (for more than a week). As soon as the new model is unveiled, he starts itching.

Do not read into this that a man should not have a new car or that a lady should not try and look her best and that you should not have a healthy bank balance. Have it, work for it, and go for it. But do not measure your success against it. All of these are side-issues. Soon it’s yesterday’s news and then all of a sudden you don’t feel successful any longer. Oh, other people, your neighbours and friends, could still perceive you as successful, but deep inside you will feel discontented, hungry for more.

One often sees this in the glitter and glamour world of super rich so-called celebrities. They undergo expensive procedures to change their appearance; they buy the most expensive houses and jewellery, top of the range yachts and cars and marry the most beautiful people. How long does it last? Marriages are over before the third kiss. Very soon the car is too old and the house across the street has a swimming pool installed that is bigger than theirs. It is then when those people, in their quest for happiness, very often find comfort in something else like drugs and alcohol and subsequently find themselves being rejected by society as failures or depart this life, lost and lonesome.

So, what is success, in other words, when will you be happy?

The starting point for judging success is, first of all, peace with yourself. When you have forgiven yourself for all the mistakes of the past and left them there – in the past. When you have asked God to forgive you for all the wrongdoings in the past and then accepted His mercy. When you have put right all the injustice you have done to other people. Then you can move forward. Forget about the past! Focus on today and the road ahead.

You will be at peace with yourself when you, in all conviction, can pronounce that at this moment you are giving it your everything. No matter what you are doing, you are giving it your best, whether it’s your marriage, your relationship with your children, your work, or your leisure time – nothing less than your best.

You will absolutely give it your best when you do it sincerely, in honour and glorification of His name. When you do it as if He is sitting in front of you or accompanying you, witnessing every move you make. You wouldn’t dare skimp your work while the boss is keeping an eye on you, would you? Well, God is with you, every moment of your life. He sees and hears everything you are doing.

You will, in addition, be at peace with yourself if, after giving a challenge your best shot, you acknowledge the result; even if it is not the result you anticipated. The result is achieved, end of story. Nothing can be done to change it. It belongs to the past and not all the tears in the world will bring about another outcome. Try again; go back to the drawing board. Start afresh.

Success is furthermore not measured by the number of people you have passed and how many people you have beaten, but by the number of people you have brought with you. That is the test of real success. When, one day, you arrive in front of the gates of heaven, puffing and sweating in your snazzy car, rather smug because you have beaten so many people, God will not look at your car and your clothes and your wallet with appreciation and congratulate you. No, He will ask: “Why are you alone? Where are the other people, your children, your friends, your business partners?”

You perform several roles during your lifetime. Child, parent, employee, employer, friend – maybe you are chairperson or captain or in charge of some group or another. During your lifetime you will, through your many roles, touch the lives of thousands of people. Your touch will bring sad or happy memories. How will people remember you? If you look back on the footprints you have left over the years, how many people have followed you and where have you lead them.

You don’t necessarily have to be a born leader with an awe-inspiring personality. You can take the lead by just taking someone’s hand, by being there to share in joys but also in the agony of people. You can lead by example. Don’t tell people what to do, show them by setting an example through your values and principles. Start with your family, then your workplace and widen your circle to reach friends, extended family and your surroundings. Be an asset to all those you come into contact with. Spread the love of Jesus which you have been blessed with in abundance.

My dear mom hasn’t got the personality of an Oprah Winfrey or Hillary Clinton. In fact, she soon gets in a flurry if it just looks as if the spotlight is aiming in her direction. She neither has strings of qualifications and titles behind her name, nor safes full of money. I believe, however, that when one day she arrives in heaven, our heavenly Father will be waiting for her with a big smile and say: “Welcome home, precious child, you utterly deserve what awaits you here in my house.” As a devoted mother she gives her utmost and as wife (when my dad was still alive) she gave nothing less. The love she puts in cooking and baking can almost be tasted. Her principles and values are being met with the greatest admiration by everyone she interacts with. People follow in her footsteps. As mother, grandmother, wife, friend – in all her roles, she spreads love. Her life is successful.

Success depends very little, if at all, on luck. Success is earned; you have to work for it. Opportunities present themselves from time to time to all of us. Successful people like the rest, experience lucky shots but also disappointments. The difference with them, however, lies in their persistent and devoted pursuing of a pre-determined goal. They forge opportunities into good fortune. Success does not come overnight. It takes time and is usually the result of sustained hard work. The legendary golfer, Gary Player, once remarked: “The harder I practice, the luckier I get.”

Ask yourself: “What can I do that is different? How can you bring about change?”

I once read somewhere, I’m not sure where, that successful people do what other people hate to do and they do it fervently. Success is something that you have to achieve yourself. It is to work while other people rest; carry on even though you are disheartened; hold on in the midst of setbacks, ever reaching for that beckoning winning-post. Success starts with a dream, an ambition… seeing something different and better in the everyday drudgery, and ultimately realising your dream through endurance and perseverance.

A last thought on success and successful people. Learn from the mistakes of others. Successful people make countless mistakes and go through tough times as well, but it is during times like these where character is formed and becomes apparent.  At one stage or another you will suffer a loss or endure a terrible knock, but it is then that the men are separated from the boys.

Work according to predetermined work or business ethics based on your Christian values and standards. In the long run there is only one road to follow: the honest, straight way. Be truthful with your bank manager, your suppliers, your employees, your customers, with everybody. Yes, and also with yourself!

You will have to deal with so many problems that will automatically cross your path anyway – why multiply them unnecessarily? Poor or inadequate service and work result in problems. Something that has been dealt with efficiently and properly the first time round brings satisfaction – to you and the customer.

It is easy telling someone to stay positive, but in reality it is much different. Yet, we can at least try to have a positive outlook. Two very well-known songs always soothed my wounds and aching heart during times of pain and distress:

“Smile when your heart is aching, smile even though it’s breaking…SMILE”.

When you are down in the dumps and your heart really aches, try putting on a brave face with a smile to wipe that frown away. Smile through those pressed lips. Even look at yourself in the mirror when you smile. See how long you can keep the smile. When people enquire about your welfare, make an effort to tell them, with a smile on your face: “I am very well, thank you”. Always very well. It is ever so painful, for you as well as those around you, to be reminded of all your problems. People tend to steer clear of those who are always complaining and moaning.

When I feel like exploding from bottled up distress and pain and desperately need to share it with someone, I share it with my Heavenly Father and tell it to my dear better half (as I will explain in the next chapter) and/or I go to my best friend or confidant and get it out of my system. I do not share it with everyone-and-his-friend. It is neither good for me, nor for my relationship with other people.

Another song that inspires me during low periods is the familiar elevating rhythm of…

 When upon life’s billows
You are tempest tossed
When you are discouraged
Thinking all is lost
Count your many blessings
Name them one by one
And it will surprise you
What the Lord has done

Choir:
Count your blessing
Name them one by one
Count your blessings
See what God has done
Count your blessings
Name them one by one
Count your many blessings
See what God has done

 Are you ever burdened
With a load of care
Does the cross seem heavy
You are called to bear
Count your many blessings
Every doubt will fly
And you will be singing
As the days go by

Choir:

 When you look at others
With their lands and gold
Think that Christ has promised
You His wealth untold
Count your many blessings
Money cannot buy
Your reward in heaven
Nor your home on high

Choir:

 So, amid the conflict
whether great or small
do not be discouraged
God is over all
Count your many blessings
Angels will attend
Help and comfort give you
To your journey’s end

Choir:

– Words by Johnson Oatman, 1897

I hum it, I whistle it and I put it into practice. I make a mental list of each and everything I can be grateful for today: health, full belly, friends and family who care for me…

Go on, make your own lengthy list. Show gratitude towards God for all the blessings with which he is showering you in abundance despite the fact that we don’t deserve a single one of them.

Try these ideas to stay positive. Think of ways to keep your positivity alive. Nurture the flame of hope and faith.

Something that will often impact upon your outlook on life is when things are not going your way and you start to ask: Why? Why are things going wrong? Why me? I am trying so hard…

I answered my own query this way:

My whole life I have always been up for a challenge. I thrive on challenges.

I have realised very early in my life that, academically, I am not the world’s best student. In fact, I think after all these years some of my teachers – those who are still alive – probably wake up in the middle of the night screaming in cold sweat when they have flash-backs of me in their classrooms. Despite my academic record, I decided to go to university, part-time. And with grace from Above, I even finished a post-graduate degree.

Ever since I was in primary school my physique was such that no-one would ever confuse me with Mr Universe. This motivated me during my compulsory military training to put myself to the test in the Parachute Battalion, known to be one of the most gruelling training courses in the army.

What am I trying to tell you? How smart I am? Absolutely not!

I want to tell you that I was – and still am – willing to commit myself to challenges despite knowing my shortcomings. I acknowledged the fact that I would have to sacrifice a lot and that I would endure some rather tough times (when I completed my studies it felt as if I had been released from prison!). I realised that it would require exceptional effort from me, but I was nevertheless prepared to do it… in reaching my own, personal goals.

When I, therefore, go through a demanding period in life or crisis situation, I put it down as just another training course that God has put me on – a demanding one; even more demanding than my part-time studies or my training at Parachute Battalion. God has selected me personally for this challenge because He knows I like challenges. Wasn’t I willing to make huge sacrifices for the sake of my own goals? Will I not therefore be willing to make even bigger sacrifices when God’s goals are at stake? For that reason God puts me on a course, to train me, to prepare me, to give me knowledge and muscle, first-hand experience and understanding for a very important mission that He has installed for me at a later stage. But if I am not qualified and equipped, I will not be able to do it.

Wow! God must have seen something in me, for today I admit that I truly feel honoured because on more than one occasion God considered me the ideal person for a job he wanted accomplished. He reckoned that I would be strong enough to complete the demanding course. And, boy, did I go on many courses!

Determination

I never wanted to disappoint God, so I really gave it my utmost under testing circumstances.

God will never expect more from you than you are capable of. You will be surprised to discover what you and He together really can accomplish. Give it a go. Your Coach will go with you, all the way. Trust Him. He knows what you are going through. Remember, He also went through excruciating suffering.

Get your thoughts in order. Focus on God.

 

VAN DIE SWARTSPAN NA DIE GROENSPAN

DIE 1960’S – MEISIES TREK AANDAG  MET HULLE MINIROKKE

Die meeste mense in Suid-Afrika weet waarmee hulle besig was: 6 September 1966. Abrie Cronje was tien en Springbok-radio se middagvervolgverhale het sy aandag gehad met sy natuurstudieboek voor hom oop. Eintlik was dit huiswerktyd en daarom het hy oudergewoonte ‘n skoolboek voor hom gehad terwyl hy stories geluister het – meestal was dit maar net vir die skyn, die boek. Die middagstories was destyds se sepies – Die Geheim van Nantes, Die Banneling, Die Wildtemmer, Die Wit Sluier… stories wat die land aangegryp het. Nie juis almal in die kraal van ‘n laerskoolseun nie, maar enige iets was beter as huiswerk doen…

ERNSTIGE SAKE – DIE WIT SLUIER

_________________________________________________________________

Die stories en al die ander radioprogramme word skielik deur die sein van ‘n noodberig onderbreek: Doktor Verwoerd is deur ‘n parlement-bode met ‘n mes gesteek. Elke paar minute kondig die sein verdere verwikkelinge aan totdat die finale skokboodskap gelees word. Spesiale uitgawes van Die Volksblad en ander dagblaaie versprei die nuus met foto’s en groot swart letters. Suid-Afrika word verpletterend in rou gedompel met die dood van sy Eerste Minister. Vlae hang halfmas.

Die dag met die begrafnis hou die land se ratte op met draai; alles staan stil. Abrie-hulle volg die lewendige uitsending daarvan oor die Afrikaanse diens van Radio Suid-Afrika. Dit word ook oor die Engelse stasie uitgesaai, maar hulle luister nooit eintlik Engels nie.

SA Spieël/SA Mirror, wat die weeklikse nuushoogtepunte na die rolprentteaters bring, wys dele van die begrafnis die volgende week op die groot skerm. In die inryteater kan gesien word hoe ‘n volk in massa treur. Mense uit alle vlakke van die samelewing staan gepak langs die roete wat die kanonwa met die kis, gedrapeer in die Oranje-blanje-blou, na die Helde-akker volg. ‘n Weermag-Bedford met blinkswart bande trek die kanonwa. Stroefgesig soldate marsjeer stadige pas, op maat van die dodemars.

Abrie kom nie agter dat dit eintlik maar meestal die witmense is wat met Verwoerd se begrafnis treur nie. Op die skerm in die teaters kan hy baie nuuskieriges van alle gemeenskappe langs die roete sien. Maar dit val hom nie op dat almal nie hartseer is nie.

Abrie is in standerd drie. Hy het al baiekeer gewonder wat die resultaat van die een of ander slim ou se navorsing sou wees. Sy navorsing sou kyk na die effek wat die omgewing waarin ‘n kind grootword, op sy lewe het.

KINDERS OP ‘N PARKBANKIE IN DIE 1960’s

Abrie is ‘n Suid-Afrikaner. Sy land word deur die buitewêreld verag, gesanksioneer en beswadder. Suid-Afrika is die wêreld se muishond. Dit is isolasiejare en sy Springbokhelde speel net so nou en dan ‘n toets. Sy provinsie is in die oë van nie-Vrystaters so plat en oninteressant, dat selfs die voëls glo onderstebo daaroor vlieg.  Dit is ook nie regtig wetgewing wat Indiërs verbied om langer as vier-en-twintig uur in die Vrystaat te vertoef nie – so word daar gespot – hulle wíl blykbaar nie langer bly nie. Nie eers die feit dat staatspresidente en ander groot geeste daar gebore is, kan die provinsie se aansien opstoot nie. Sy rugbyspan is meestal kookwater, maar word altyd in die pylvak van die Curiebeker geklop. Bloemfontein, sy geboorteplek, hoofstad van die Vrystaat, bakermat van Afrikanerdom – is dit nodig om meer te sê? Afrikaners word wêreldwyd dikwels voorgestel as agterlik, verkramp en dom. Soms ook deur mede-landgenote wat nie-Afrikaners is. Sy laerskool is nog jonk, geen swembad of rugbyvelde soos die ander ouer, gevestigde skole nie en die geboue is opslaangeboue van vaal asbespanele. Al die kinders van sy skool is volgens vanne in sportspanne ingedeel, nie volgens die een of ander merietestelsel nie. Daar is drie spanne. Die Blouspan (vanne Q tot Z) wen altyd. Die Rooispan is altyd tweede en sý span, die Swartspan (ernstig!) is altyd laaste. Stel jou voor! Rasieleiers met swart klere en atlete met swart rosette. Hy’t nog altyd  gewonder wie op aarde die kleure gekies het. Dit is dalk die rede hoekom hulle altyd laaste is. Geen verwagting of spantrots nie. Hoe op aarde kan daar met die flambojante bloues en rooies meegeding word? So halfpad deur sy laerskooljare skop ‘n nuwe onderwyseres in afgryse vas en stel voor dat dit die Groenspan word. Dieselfde vanne, dieselfde kinders, maar nou is hulle die  Groenspan. Die Groenspan is steeds laaste, maar hierdie keer met teleurstelling, want nou was daar verwagtinge. Hulle is tog immers nou op gelyke voet met die ander spanne met ewe spoggerige rosette.

Ja, jou van kan ‘n groot verskil maak in die rigting wat jou lewe inslaan. Dit kan selfs bepaal in watter span jy is.

Veronderstel nou net dat hy in Texas, in Amerika gebore is. Daar waar alles groter en beter voorgestel word. So wonder hy baie, dieselfde hy, maar op ‘n ander plek. As seun van ‘n oliebaron wat die Dallas Cowboys ondersteun. ‘n Land wat, sonder om druipstert te wees, sportspanne na die Olimpiese Spele kan stuur. Wie se vlag een van die herkenbaarste simbole ter wêreld is. Wat flieks maak van sy oorwinnings oor die Indiane, Duitsers en Japannese. ‘n Land wat verskoning vir niks en niemand vra nie. Oor wie se president die hele wêreld treur ná sy sluipmoord. Sou hy ‘n ander tipe mens gewees het? Hoe ‘n tipe mens sou hy, Abrie, gewees het as hy dáár gebore is? Of dalk, sê nou maar by die Boesmans? Of by die Sotho’s?

Met volwassenheid en nabetragting kom, meestal – en hopelik — insig en dit was eers nádat hy sy vlerke gesprei het en ánder, nie noodwendig groener nie, weivelde verken het, dat die besef tot hom gekom het: Hy was bevoorreg. Sy kinderjare in Bloemfontein, in die Vrystaat, in Suid-Afrika, in die Swartspan was stene uit sandsteen gekap. Dit was die boustene van ‘n fondament waarop sterk mure gebou kon word, mure wat hom later jare kon skans teen die aanslae van die lewe.

BLOEMFONTEIN SE MIDDESTAD – 1960’S

Verwoerd se sluipmoord en die verkiesing van ‘n nuwe Eerste Minister oorheers vir weke die nuus. Dimitri Tsafendas het ‘n huishoudelike naam geword en John Vorster word as Verwoerd se opvolger aangewys.

Lees verder in MONOCHROOM REËNBOOG

ENKELE KOMMENTARE OP MONOCHROOM REËNBOOG

ENKELE KOMMENTARE OP MONOCHROOM REËNBOOG

(SOOS VERSKYN IN LITNET  )

Annette le Grange

2015-09-13 at 10:25

‘n Moet lees boek. Skitterende skryfstyl, eerlik, openhartig. Die storie tref mens fel,veral vir ons wat in daardie era groot geraak het. Die boek lewer ‘n intense genot en mens is half jammer daar is nie nog hoofstukke oor nie, veral as jy lees en besef dit is die laaste bladsy. Baie geluk mnr Fourie, jou boek is beslis aan te beveel vir jonk en oud. Stukkie ware geskiedenis van ons brose land en sy mense.

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• 

  Gert Burger

  2015-09-10 at 22:18

  Een boek wat ek sonder twyfel sal aanbeveel. Veral die mense wat die tyd van die bosoorlog intens belewe het, kan dalk uitvind hoe naby hierdie verhaal aan hul eie belewenisse is.

  Reply

• 

  Alice Hendriks-Boshoff

  2015-09-10 at 23:45

  Monochroom Reënboog is ‘n boeiende boek. Die taalgebruik en skryftrant pas treffend aan by die verskillende lewensfases van Abrie, die hoofkarakter. Fourie skilder omgewing, omstandighede en situasies só helder en lewensgetrou, dat ‘n mens sterk daarmee kan identifiseer – veral as jy self ‘n oud-Bloemfonteiner is. Hierdie boek leen hom m.i. nie tot ‘n opvolg van enige aard nie, maar ook ander skeppingswerk van Fourie sal ‘n aanwins wees vir die Afrikaanse boekrak. Ons sien uit daarna.

  Reply

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  Dr G M Augustyn

  2015-09-11 at 08:59

  Ons wat bevoorreg is om Andre in persoonlike verskyning te ken, hier in Engeland, weet dat die man sy woorde weeg en kies, en dat hy versigtig omgaan met mense omdat hy broosheid diep ken. Sy verhaalkuns in Monochroom Reënboog bring lekkerte in vele opsigte, want ook daar is ontwerp en fyn kies van woord en gedagte volop vir die genietleser en die ontledingsleser. Knap gedaan, Andre!

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  Andre De Wet

  2015-09-13 at 08:41

  As ‘n seun van ‘n soldaat wat self in die 70’s groot geword het was dit ‘n ongelooflike grypende boek. Ek kon myself inleef in heelwat van die situasies. Ek bly ook nou in Engeland en die boek het erg aan my hartsnare getrek.

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  Willie Brits

  2015-09-14 at 12:12

  Ek was weer teruggevoer na my kinderdae op ‘n wyse wat my ‘n knop in die keel gegee het. André jou eerlike, gemaklike skryfstyl gee geloofwaardigheid aan jou boek. Wel gedaan my vriend. Ek kan nie wag vir die opvolg nie.

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  Andre Eloff

  2015-09-14 at 16:09

  Toe ek die boek lees het my eie lewe en grootwordwêreld voor my afgespeel. Ek is deeglik herinner aan die ou dae. Die boek is briljant geskryf … vol hartseer, verlange, nostalgie, vreugde en letterkunde met ‘n sterk geskiedkundige inslag.
  Ek het dit geniet … dankie Andre. Maak weer so!

  Reply

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  Colleen Potgieter

  2015-09-14 at 17:19

  Ek het so pas ‘n boek klaar gelees … dit was fantasties … kry dit, koop dit of leen dit, maar lees dit. Die boek: Monochroom Reënboog geskryf deur André Fourie.

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  Herman du Plessis

  2015-09-16 at 11:56

  Baie geluk met ‘n uitstekende boek. Ek het elke bladsy geniet, en lekker gelag, gehuil, en opgewonde geraak saam met jou karakters. Dit het my soveel nostalgiese genot verskaf om te lees van ons herkoms in hierdie monochroom reënboogland. Ek lees al Jeffrey Archer, Sidney Sheldon, Stigg Larson, Jo Nesbo, Deon Meyer en Wilbur Smith se boeke, en kan nou die naam van Andre Fourie daarby voeg.

  Welgedaan, en mag daar nog baie uit jou pen vloei. Jy mag maar!

  Reply

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  Johan Noordman

  2015-10-06 at 22:00

  Nooit so geboei deur ‘n boek nie – wens dit het nog 20 addisionele hoofstukke gehad. Kan nie wag vir ‘n volgende treffer nie.

  LEES HIER MEER OOR MONOCHROOM REËNBOOG