As our annual rhythmic gymnastics competition comes to an end, I can’t express what an eventful day it has been. The support from our rhythmic gymnastics community was incredible and the event ran as per schedule.
It was an experience I wouldn’t want to take on board again any time soon!
Today was day 1 of our club’s rhythmic gymnastics competition. Although I worked all day, I managed to get there at 6pm and helped until end of day (which tonight was around 10pm). I think it is safe to say I am pooped!
“Hello darkness my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence” – Simon & Garfunkel The Sound of Silence
They say with age comes maturity. I don’t know about that. To be mature you have reached the most advanced stage of a process, or are fully developed. I don’t think we EVER reach this point. Although we technically are fully grown by our late teens, we never really stop developing. We go through various stages of transformation throughout our life span. And this is pretty darn exciting because it means there’s room for growth!
It is my birthday today and I have had a few people comment on my age, especially when they find out that I am 37. Well, at least those who are older than me. I don’t know if they thought I was older due to our kids being a similar age, or if I look older than what I am. It is as if they suddenly feel older. I would hate to think that my age might affect someone in a negative way! I usually never say my age and often just refer to myself as ‘a few years short of 40’.
But today is different. Today I embrace that I turned 37. That I am 1 year older. That I am content with my life. That I am in love with life. That it took me 37 years to be in a position to say “c’est la vie”. That I am not afraid of a number. That everyday, good or bad, is a blessing. That I am me.
Our annual rhythmic gymnastics club competition is looming and seeing as our previous competition co-ordinator and knower-of-all stepped down from her position, no one really wanted to take on the massive challenge. I volunteered to organise the competition committee meetings as we had to start somewhere, but how I ended up taking on the role as co-ordinator is beyond me!
Luckily thus far I have a wonderful team of willing mums who are giving up their time and creativity to make this another successful event.
Today was certainly one of those “I should have stayed in bed” type of days. It seemed that everything I touched turned to custard, and not the edible sweet dessert type. I often have days when I feel jittery and have random, uncontrollable shakes. I don’t know if it is due to not eating properly on that day or being over-tired, but it usually turns my day upside-down.
But I have noticed that through the photo diary challenge I am able to see the light-hearted side to life, and there was no time to cry over my spilled coffee, especially when it is in the shape of the African continent.
I clearly remember while visiting my ouma and oupa in Pretoria as a young girl, how often we used to walk through cemeteries. Ouma gave us the freedom to wonder around, reading the names on the tombstones, when they passed and how old they were. I tried to find the youngest child, and the oldest date. She told us that there is nothing to fear amongst the dead.
My slightly over-active imagination played out scenery of beautiful gardens, picturesque homes, floral dresses, picnics by the lakes, old cars, dust roads leading to fields of wild flowers, visiting loved ones by candle light. I wondered who these people were, did they come from a big and loving family, did they have siblings, were they in love. And often I wondered how they died. I wasn’t saddened by these thoughts. It was more as if a sense of gratitude and self awareness settled over me. I felt calm.
I admired the tombstones more than anything else though. Some were so old you couldn’t read the inscriptions. Others were huge, looming over their neighbors like giants in a chest match. Then there were those graves who had a single cross, old, chipped with no name, no identity. This is the only thing that will sadden me; the thought that a family might not have been in a financial position to afford a significant tombstone to honor their loved one.
Today I wondered into our local rural town and decided to walk around the small cemetery. The one tombstone in particular caught my attention and as the grey clouds rolled in, bringing with it a cold snap, I stood in silence and solace admiring the life beneath my feet.