Ina is made up of anxiety and a little bit of cold water. She is a 37-year-old daughter, sister, wife, mother and boss who wants to share her ways of getting on with life after losing her hearing partially. She enjoys writing, reading and cooking and is an avid planner and would like so share all these little bits with you.
These rambles may have revealed a number of things about me, mostly that I am anxious and that I tend to overthink. Especially if I find myself with idle time… or if someone does not answer my text. Especially ones that are direct questions. I ALWAYS assume that that person is angry with me. And I can ALWAYS think up something that I have done to deserve this passive-aggressive behaviour.
Turns out, however, people are busy, people have lives and the whole world does not revolve around me. Also, some people don’t read and I really do ask a lot of questions. The Engineer has recently requested that I only send one question at a time.
A little more than two years ago we did some home renovations and extensions. The architect that was commissioned for the job came for the initial meeting to hear about our dreams and our budget. I later however realised that this was a spying session, because the first renders that came back were filled with wineracks and bookshelves. He had summed me up nicely. I was in love with his plan. I am easy that way.
Long story short, we ended up with a beautiful foyer and for almost two years I have been confused about what should go there.
Eventually I decided on interesting doors. I got this idea from a restaurant in Cape Town that has a huge artwork with different doors. I started my search on the various image banks and collected my own. These were then all printed on small A5 canvases. I also like the symbolism associated with doors:
Moving through difficulties or challenges
Entering into new spaces
Suggesting opportunities
Leaving sadness or loss
Transition
New beginnings
A threshold or boundary at which two places meet
The Engineer left me to my own devices in figuring out how these should go up. I had a plan, but I have to see things before I can commit. I commenced with A5 sheets and masking tape, to try and visualize the whole thing.
The doors went up, and in my opinion looked gorgeous. Little did I know…
So lesson 1: mounting tape works fine but not if it is in your entryway and you see it from the side if you walk in.
Lesson 2: canvas borders should be black
Lesson 3: A level is your friend. The Afrikaans word is “waterpas”, isn’t it beautiful?
Lesson 4: sometimes there is a reason why you marry the engineer in the first place
So two months after this whole project, we realised that there is some water damage. In comes the insurance assessor and a team of builders and down goes my doors again.
After a few days of chaos and waiting for things to dry, the doors can go up again, but the engineer offers to do it this time. Where I did things with masking tape and paper, he sits down at his computer and writes 39 lines of code. On the screen is a render of my piano, the light switch and my 18 images… and he is moving things closer and further apart by the click of a button. So yes, you can be annoyed and grateful at the same time.
This time the canvasses went up with nails, so that they could be flush against the wall. I also painted the canvas borders black.
Perhaps the lesson here, is that you have to get it completely wrong the first time, to get it perfect the second time around. Or maybe, that we should all just play to our strengths and admit that we have weaknesses.
I read a post yesterday about a gentleman showing some understanding for the fact that everyone is dealing with something, and that we should attempt to tread a little lighter… be a little kinder.
I have been mulling this over for a while now: the notion that we should wrap everyone in cotton wool and not offend, not be harsh, not make any sudden movements or loud noises…
I have come to the conclusion, that it’s not that.
I am a social animal who also likes my own company from time to time. When I was blessed to become the mother of the Lilliputians four years ago, I suddenly realised, that this is the gig that never packs up to go home. It never ends. So the Engineer, probably for fear of a family murder committed by his sleep-deprived wife, suggested that I take a break and go out with a friend. Enters date night. Although, that was date day, because my beautiful cousin came to whisk me away for a nail appointment and some wine.
Since that date, four years ago, I have been trying to do this once a month, with my tribe. The group has become a little smaller over time, because I realised that sometimes I set these dinners due to guilt. Of course lockdown also interrupted my little tradition when we were not allowed to see anyone, but finally, the tradition lives on.
And it is never fancy. It is lunch or dinner, with someone whom I love, somewhere that I love. And yes, there’s usually wine. I think maybe because they are not brave enough for solo-me without it.
There have been double dinners, where I get two friends to come along. And there have been plans for many in the future. There have even been friends who now set them among each other as well.
These appointments have taught me a few beautiful lessons:
They support my slogan of only taking with me that which inspires me. I am inspired by these friends every time.
Conversations are different when they are one-on-one. Also, when there’s not a needy 4-year-old spilling juice on the labrador.
Every single person is struggling with something.
I am blessed with beautiful, wise, funny friends (even if some are family), whom I enjoy spending time with.
It’s OK if you don’t speak every day, friendships can survive some silence too.
I think maybe the most important lesson in these solo outings is that I am not defined by my marriage, or my mothering, or my job, or qualifications, my deafness, or the challenges and joys in my life. I am a product of a journey, and this is also evident in my dinner guests. Some I’ve known since first grade and some I have only met recently. Some studied with me and some worked with me.
If you have been following these rambles, you will know that a dear friend of mine, passed away a little more than a month ago. She was one of my date night regulars. So tomorrow morning I am going for breakfast with one of her friends, whom I hardly know. But even, in her absence, a new friendship is born, where what we have in common (for now) is that which we have lost.
Spring tends to inspire, doesn’t it? A new season full of promise!
I have been quiet for various reasons, but more than one person has now actually commented on the absence of new posts and tonight there is finally something to be said.
I have referred to the advice that I pay for occasionally during these rambles. And I have had a hard time grasping my current homework. Being surrounded by death and hardship and illness… I think this has taken a toll on everyone. We are all in our own boats, trying to make sense and just … continue…
When these topics started, I was determined to “only take with me that which inspires me”. That means that I need to let go of “things” that no longer serve me. It all sounds simple. But in practice, what does that mean? I have come to the conclusion that I need to let go of things that make me unhappy and/or leave me unfulfilled.
