hope

I know that most posts at this time focus on the "year in review" theme. And I suppose it is a relevant topic.

2016 for me began with a ridiculous post by an ignorant old woman called Penny Sparrow. She sparked a long-overdue national debate (and I do use the words loosely, since some responses were hate speech rather than objective counter arguments) on race, and how black people are treated and perceived in South Africa. This also led to other suppressed issues coming to the surface of our society, and although I believe that it is necessary and healthy to take them out and deal with them, the meanness and opportunism that tries to walk hand in hand with retribution often brought me down. In my heart, I am a Zulu, and I don't like to be tarred with the same brush as those people who believe a white skin makes a person superior.

In one of the headlines in the paper today, there was a tally of all of the celebrities that had died during 2016. Apparently George Michael died on Xmas day. Last Christmas, he gave you his heart... So if it's all the same to you, I'd rather forego the recounting of what happened in the world this year.

There were a few bright rays that shone down on me. The Rogue Squadron (admittedly only two plus mascot) attended our first international tournament, independent of any national initiative, and we solidified our status as a team at the national tournament. It made me feel proud and grateful for the people with whom I have surrounded myself.
And I received a beautiful amaryllis lily and chocolates from one of my managers in Head Office for simply doing my job and helping out (with an admittedly monumental marking task), which I thought was really sweet. It's awesome to be recognised for one's efforts at work.
Tala achieved really well in school and sports, and reinforces every day the reason why I chose to have a child.
Josh started making the most beautiful knives and swords and revamped his business, Metal Horse Armoury.
And Josh and I also put a stop to our summer flea infestation, which was a relief, to say the least.

What I really want to speak about, though, is hope.
I know, I know.. There are so many cliches and adadges like the perennial, "Hope springs eternal."
But there was a time when hope didn't really exist for me, in my world. I think that when a person turns the corner and realises that there is hope, after having none, it is the sweetest gift to find, sitting there, untouched, unopened, fresh and promising, and all the more worth holding onto.

In "A Knight's Tale", William and his buddies put together a letter to the Princess, and the last paragraph begins with the words, "Hope guides me..." I love this line because it resonates with who I have become. Hope has really been what keeps me together; hope that tomorrow will be better than today; hope that tomorrow or the next day, reason and truth will prevail; hope that, for all of my effort and inspiration and motivation, there will be some kind of reward.

I recently watched the "Rogue One" movie, which was much, much closer in tone and style to "Episode IV: A New Hope". It was deeply satisfying to see that the writers had actually created an original story, without relying on and recreating the nostalgic shots that made the original Star Wars movies so popular, as they did with Episode VII. There are more than a few parallels that I drew between the story of Rogue One and the formation of my own Rogue Squadron.

As a citizen of South Africa, as a lecturer, and as a leader of the Rogues, I intend to keep on recruiting, motivating, inspiring and training, until all of my chances are spent, and my time is done.

I look forward to the year ahead because I believe that it will be better. What I want to pass on in this post to all of you, my readers, is a what they gave to Leia, as Captain Antilles fled Vader's star destroyer at the end of "Rogue One": hope. 

apocalypse? now

 

I remember the first time I heard about the concept of "the end of the world", it was in boarding school in 1992. It was October, I think, and I sat waiting for some momentous event that would forever silence life. In my condition at the time, I was thoroughly and deeply disappointed when it didn't happen, and I carved those sentiments on the desk in the back corner of the classroom. I guess it was a form of buyer's remorse. I had bought into the idea so quickly, grasped at it like the proverbial drowning man clutching at a rope because it seemed like a brilliant way to solve everything. Just end it all.

With the passing of each failed "end of the world" notification, the buyer's remorse has lessened, and I have come to realise something, and it is this:
We are living in the apocalypse.
For good or for ill, our world is changing irrevocably. And perhaps the "end times" isn't what the Christians promise, where the Christian God will come down and smite all of the evil(according to them)doers and gather the rest of them up and take them away in a glorious rapture. And perhaps it isn't any one of the hundreds of other promises of scenarios where "we" (the good guys) will be saved and "they" (whoever isn't considered part of the good guys) will be destroyed. Perhaps the "end times" is actually just that: the end of the world AS WE KNOW IT.

Here are some of the articles in the news today (not mentioning Trump - we've all had enough of that for a long time):
Standing Rock Protests
South Africa's Zuma State Capture
Japan's Earthquake
Selfie Deaths Rising (really?)
Google Boosts AI Research
Study Links Fracking and Earthquakes
Australian Thunderstorm Asthma
Putin and His Missiles


It is happening right now. We see our planet being changed all around us, at an increasing rate. More and more species of flora and fauna are becoming extinct, our cultures are changing more rapidly, becoming increasingly coca-colonised by homogenising Western influences. We as a species are breeding at an exponential rate, and using up more and more of our planet's natural resources. And the key word here is exponential. Things are changing faster and faster, and we appear to be moving towards a singularity. Not the kind that ends with the earth being crushed by the terrifying gravitational forces of a black hole. Rather, a cultural and existential singularity, in which some kind of paradigm shift will occur once our changes have reached a point where they can go no further.

I can't predict what will happen. I'm not a scientist, and after all of the times the world has already ended, I don't put much stock in prophecies.

For me, the apocalypse was an event which promised an end to all of the horrid, wasteful, malicious and damaging activities of people that I saw more and more around me. Specifically to my own personal circumstances, it represented an end to the constant bullying and victimisation that I was experiencing at school and hostel. If it meant an end to my life as well, then I was also perfectly happy with that. As long as it was just over and done.

I've come to recognise with time that waiting for the apocalypse to end the world as we know it is just waiting for the easy way out. It means we no longer have to go through the daily grind of waking up, going to work, working, going home, cooking, eating, sleeping. There will be a change to the routine, something different. Something that breaks the cycle. I don't think that the apocalypse is the answer, though. In the words of Annie Lennox, "Dying is easy, it's living that scares me today."

Whatever the future may bring, I think we need to have the courage to face it, and not to wish it away in fire and ashes, because I reckon there will be a lot of disappointed people out there who realise in their deathbeds that they have spent their lives waiting for something to happen that was unfolding slowly, every day before their very eyes.

So this is me. Don't think for a moment that I'm not prepping. I am. But I'm not prepping for the end. I'm prepping for the beginning of something new. And I'm no longer hoping for the death of my world. I mean to live.

Here's a song for all of you:

https://youtu.be/Z0GFRcFm-aY