My mental resident has been pacing up and down my mental
park.
Most of the anxiety being caused by this post, which was written
and shared a tiny while ago.
I have been trying to pick out what precisely it is about
the post that is causing this unsettling feeling. (The best way to describe the
feeling I am experiencing would be to liken it to that feeling you get before
speaking to a massive group of people that you have never met before in your
life, or that fluttering slightly unpleasant feeling before going on a date with
someone for the first time; not knowing what to expect, will you say the “right”things,
will you get on well, is he cute? How do I look? Shoot, maybe I shouldn’t go at
all!)
An unkind (yet necessary) feeling to the soul.
My suspects have come and gone.
Captured and then set free.
But the latest one has been detained and is pending trial.
I would like to use the below-mentioned saying or quote which lay
spread-eagle across my wall (for the bigger portion of my past year), I elect this particular wise and truthful saying
to sum up my current suspect (most likely to be found guilty).
“Whenever you have truth it must be given with love, or the
message and the messenger will be rejected”. I believe that wise man responsible
for this saying is Mahatma Gandhi.
Perhaps, my post was a little too narrow-minded in its
examples as it was a post that was initially meant to highlight the phenomenal
work being done by Survival International. It quickly turned into (as my blog
is aptly named rantingravingrandomramblings) a rambling. A rather bitter one.
Due to my observations that week. But after looking at my stats that week I
realised that my blog is no longer a simple dumping ground for mindless
thoughts and opinions. It is now a place where my peers and others come to read
and find inspiration or to defend a point of view.
I am honoured to see that my blog has evolved in that way.
Having acknowledged that, I rapidly came to the realisation
that, maybe this disclaimer is no longer relevant.
Frightening thought. That maybe I may not
simple come to this “safe place” to rant, rave, ramble and occasionally throw
my toys out of the proverbial cot which many of us inhabit at different times
in our days.
This seems an important fork in the road. An important growing pain.
Intimidating. (To say the least)
I have never been scared of change, I often times embrace it
with enthusiasm. However, this time is different.
Back to the post that’s causing this spiral and harshly
introspective point in my thoughts (and future actions).
I was worried by the major portion of the world of people
that I had unwittingly gathered and throw into the mud-pile.(Funny I call it that as it was never intended to be)
Those brave souls that are instrumental and vital in the fight
for the greater good and for positive social change.
The people who see that something is not quite right and
seek to be part of the solution.
They are not always the people who are enduring the
suffering or pain.
Okay, this is all pretty abstract. Here is an example.
I’m keeping Survival International in here to keep it tidy.
The people who began the organisation were never taken off
of the land that they grew up on, they were never separated from their families
by those that took over their land, they were not tortured or had family
members raped, their tribes and people were not wiped out by an invasion of diseases
those invading unknowingly brought along with them, their tribes were not
invaded. No. None of those boxes were
ticked, by them, but they were still able to see that indigenous people and
tribes are vulnerable and they still had the fire and passion to fight for
their rights; and are doing a fantastic job at that.
Now, it is the following example (or the same kind) that I neglected
to include in my previous post, this is the type of thinking and methodology I
was attempting to shine the light on.
A very personal example here:
When I was 18 years old, after a childhood friend aged 14 died
from a drug overdose, saddened and feeling pretty guilty that I was unable to prevent it, I decided to finally start a soccer team in my township (Ga-Rankuwa),
so I set off with a grand plan in mind, I approached a principal at one of the
local high schools in my community to find out if we could use their soccer
field. He enthusiastically agreed. I then put out notices all over the place in
shops and schools to tell people that if they were interested they should come
and sign up. On the stated date I had a rather big fight with my mom that day, but
despite this I headed to the school to register the interested young boys (and
girls if any). I expected hordes of people to come.
Nobody, besides my younger brother came.
Needless to say I went to bed with a heavy heart and the
word “defeat” - seemingly engraved - into my forehead. I was confused. Why one
earth was nobody interested. This was a great opportunity after all.
A great opportunity according to ME.
I was not a boy, I
was never going to be one in this lifetime. I was not into drugs, and the closest I have
EVER come to indulging in such substances was occasionally over-indulging in
wine and other alcoholic beverages, as do most young people and I would never
have (at that age) turned to soccer in the fierce Ga-Rankuwa sun to deter me.
My plan was based on what I thought, not on what the people
I was directing this at wanted. I was naïve and arrogant to some extent in my
approach. I thought I knew best without consulting the very people this initiative
would affect.
I never asked them what they wanted it to look like.
I didn’t see the hole in my plan until I was much much
older, long after the desire to embark on this journey had subsided.
It is this process I intended to condemn, but seem to have failed to outline effectively, causing the focus to fall onto other topics, such as what some called my "attack on Australia".
I have opted to leave the post that has been causing me
anguish and insomnia up, it is a reminder to me to be more cautious in my
approach and my content and to be gentle where I know I should be.
History can
be a shaky ground as it is and needs to be handled with care.
For now my disclaimer stands, until I choose the fork in the
road I am presented with.
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