the goodbye letters (#2)




  • a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behaviour
  • dishonor or disgrace

Dear Shame,

I’m ashamed of you, how about that?!

I’ve carried you because it’s easier to sink into you than to fight you off. Then I have to imagine an existence that isn’t dependent on me fading away, and that takes a certain kind of creativity and courage I’m yet to master. I cannot master it, though, if I don’t try. Masters are merely students who kept trying. And didn’t stop learning.

You’re slick, you know that? Your biggest trick is that you make me feel embarrassed about not being able to fulfill obligations that were never mine to fulfill. Who said I had to be perfect?

You blow everything out of proportion. Damn it! Why didn’t I see it sooner? You’re just trying to make me miserable, because you’re miserable too.

Oh, dear Shame – you rob me of intimacy. I can’t be in community and covered in shame, too. You’re a leech like that (“Shame is a soul eating emotion,” CG Jung said. Gosh it’s true!). You take wellness as your sacrifice like the spiteful witch that you are.

I deserve to laugh without feeling like I’m cheating.

I deserve to hope without remembering how I failed in the past.

I deserve to dream without fear that I don’t have what it takes.

I deserve to be me without being disappointed that I’m not someone else.

I deserve better.

This is farewell, and I’ve sealed it with a prayer and a mustard seed.

So then, goodbye, old friend.

And good riddance!

Living in love,


“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.” – Brene Brown, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead

 “Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” – Brene Brown, I Thought It Was Just Me: Women Reclaiming Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame


When I should have been studying

I rushed to the balcony’s doors as they were flung open by a gust of wind. Rain poured in before I could make it there. It’s not even a balcony. It’s half a balcony. Besides the fact that I felt like I was in a stormy and dark scene from Wuthering Heights, I didn’t mind having to get out of bed so late in the night. I wasn’t asleep anyway, I was up thinking about, among other things, exam time. A period when you get panicky, hands sweaty and emotions all helter-skelter. Or maybe you become like me: cursed with a short attention span where everything academic is concerned, and itching with a desire to procrastinate. ADD and insomnia are the curse of the imaginative. I’m losing sleep trying to get the words out of me. Like I’ve said before, they’ve just been waiting to be birthed and shared. I’ve tried to keep my mind focused but whenever it all got too boring for me, the Words came rushing in, demanding to dance on paper.

 During the buzz of our lives, we’re moving too fast for anything good to emerge from our creative genius. If anything comes along, it could always have been better had it been given time to be nursed.

 Mary Wollstonecraft, in her Letters Written in Sweden, Denmark and Norway, writes that the pursuit of material goods and commercial success narrows down our capacity for imagination. We’re so busy trying to become citizens who can compete successfully in the capitalist system that we stifle the growth of our minds. Imagination enables us to empathise with others, among many things, and empathy connects us to our humanity, our morality. We’ve been so busy living our own lives that we have not made time for other people. Selfishness and self-centeredness are ugly monsters who feed off of the ignorance we enjoy in the name of bliss. God called it “perishing for a lack of knowledge”.

A creative BEAST I know from church, mentioned that she’s been experiencing more or less the same thing (Phew, I’m not alone! It’s safe to come out now.). She’s supposed to be studying, and then suddenly all sorts of creative ideas come to her. Inspiration in the time of exams. She put it down to the pace of that period. See, when we’re still, imagination has free reign. Those naughty little critters, ideas, run around like motherless children imitating leprechauns (or tokoloshes!). I’m that baggy-eyed girl with the lopsided afro who can’t stop the ideas (this sounds better than saying ‘voices’, I hope) in her head from shouting. It’s not my fault Words don’t behave! Who put them in my kop?!  

 I dream of being able to divide my year into half: six months writing full-time and the other six travelling. Of course I’ll be writing while I travel, but six months is set aside for a creative period of as little interruption as possible. We should be able to choose the terms by which we live our own lives, but there are forces working against us, to harm us, to stop us from realising our dreams. But we are not ignorant of the Old Fiend’s designs. No. We fight his tyranny as best we can, and give the remainder over to God. One thing we must not do, is stand in our own way!

So when I should have been studying, I was reading novels, convincing myself that it’s a deposit into my future as a published writer.

That day I was cooking, throwing together anything I could find and challenging myself to make meals out of nothing.

I blame my friends! 🙂

When I should have been studying, I was hanging with friends, making our bond stronger, I hope.

I was connecting with my Man JC (Jesus Christ), getting in touch with the Source of my being and drinking in His Love.

When I should have been studying, I was writing this blog, sharing a piece of myself with you.

This creative procrastination had better pay off.




Dusty Soul

 “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” – Albert Einstein