Curled up on my bed, looking at the old wooden ceiling, I am simultaneously in the grips of kidney pain and in the grasp of love. On the eve of my 27th birthday (well, almost), there must be comets rocketing in Sagittarius and Scorpio for I can feel the ground shaking.
I am alone in my kidney pain, suffering some sort of infection, probably brought on by the stresses of finishing my final month at St. Paul’s. I cannot believe this year has almost come to a close. It’s incredibly emotional and I find myself on the verge of tears to part with the many relationships I have built. There’s the group of amazing 12-year-old girls, Student Librarians, who have been my right hand throughout the development of the library. There are the students I’ve witnessed improve, stretch in confidence and attitude and learn the tongue of English and its words on paper. There are the students I’ve taught who still struggle, who I leave knowing their developing struggles are left for other hands. And there are the colleagues who have cared for me, who have supported my struggle, and who have taught me how to laugh and be even naughtier in my humor.
Part of my ever-developing roller coaster, red dirt path, yellow brick road, walk through life, is Johannes. I feel so bold relaying this all here! But he is an important part of my story. There will be more to write, but for now our relationship is developing as though we’ve known each other for years. Truth be known, I’ve known him face-to-face for less than 30 days as he’s been working in Mozambique since we met last May. He returned to Cape Town two weekends ago and I was heartbroken to find he’d be leaving in January to start another job in Kwa-Zulu Natal. He didn’t hesitate for a second to invite me to join him there.
And so, yes, I have agreed. As my time with St. Paul’s represents momentous change, this move will slide in perfectly to the next slot. Johannes is a furniture maker, woodworker, carpenter, and builder… however you name it, he works with wood. He’s been offered a job to build a tented camp on a game farm in KZN near the town Pongola, just south of the border to Swaziland. I remember from my trip to that area with my dad last December how it tasted - green, woody, lush, delicate, hot. At the moment, it’s not 100% solid as we’re awaiting confirmation from his bosses that it will be okay for me to join.
It’s a major risk. Yes, there will be the nice parts, like buffalo grazing on the grass outside the cabin! And having a garden (though I may have to contend with kudu for permission). And being immersed in nature. But a lot of it is about putting my faith forward on a new platform. This past 16 months has been about me, on my own, forging my way through social complexities, building relationships from scratch, developing my working self in the context of chaos. This next segment will be about me risking myself on a more emotional level, putting my trust into something else, not knowing what my plans will be, letting it just fall into place. For those of you who know me, not planning is not a general part of my existence.
As you can see, I’m quite excited, dreaming while gazing at my ceiling. All the exercises of this year have built me up to take this next step. So, we shall see. Regardless, my life will soon be shifting in new directions once again. C’est la vie!
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