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Tuesday, September 3, 2013

This thing called guilt

I haven't blogged in ages, for many, many reasons....... mostly personal, and this sudden, out of the blue, splurge, does not mean that I have found my literary mojo.....not yet at any rate.  I just have a bit of time....well no, actually, I dont really, its just that I'm too darn exhausted  to start running around again today.  I have even managed to put my well developed 'guilt' to bed for a while, least for long enough to get a few lines down.  I have always journaled, and  other than scribbling down the odd thought/vent/idea/poem, that too, has all but stopped. 

Soooo much has happened since my last blog; the awesome, emotive wedding of our eldest daughter, the theft of around R100 000 worth of my jewelry by a domestic helper (who, it would seem, that the entire world warned me about.......(I do that quite often it seems....ignore people's warnings)), my middle daughter is happily in another job and is studying again, and my son is navigating his way through matric and  these hair-raising South African roads with his new drivers license.

My art has taken a back seat to brooms, mops and dusters, and now, more recently, to rakes, spades and pool equipment.  Not meaning to moan here, but my hands now look worse than my 76 year old mums', with all the toxic, skin-dehydrating elements and chemicals that they're exposed to daily. Life by no means 'sucks'.  In fact it's pretty darn wonderful...lots of sugar with just a pinch of salt....

The salt, I guess, is the balance that life itself  has a hand in, just to remind us of our vulnerabilities and limitations.  Yes, this 'guilt' thing.....

When you are sooooo used to doing good that it becomes bad for you, when it becomes second nature and is an extension of who you are (or how you see yourself ) that you eventually loose site of the real self... and possibly, all because of a little programmed seed that was planted by people and circumstances through a lifetime, where 'good enough' never was. So, we roboticaly chuff our way through life, trying to be perfect...the perfect child, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter, the perfect wife....and all the while we are lost to being perfectly human with perfect imperfections and perfect limitations. There is no such thing as super-hero's , no matter what the world wants us to believe..deep down, everybody knows that....don't they???  

 Being made to feel guilty as we get older....warranted or not..... can trigger reactions  in that that our 'abused' and belittled subconscious lashes out in the conscious, because all our lives we have lived with and attempted to subconsciously rectify the accusation of 'not enough', 'you're bad', 'you're lazy', 'you're ugly' etc, etc.

Examining the motive and motivation for doing anything is a good start.  If its driven by guilt....simply.....its NOT good and will not ultimately be good for you or the person/people for who its intended....except of course, when its for yourself.

It all really boils down to loving ones self enough to know when you aren't.


  1. Dear Sharon, reading your blog entry tells us how human we all are and how we all struggle with the same issues. (including the housework! Doing mine too!!!). I invite you to pop on over to my own blog "Nine Times Circling" to see some of the issues we have been coping with. I have also only just got back to blogging - but possibly for lesser reasons - I couldn't get the site to work until I discovered it works better with Google Chrome! Keep strong and fight guilt! By now in life you have earned the right to feel proud of yourself, not guilty!!!!

  2. Hi there Fiona. Thank you, I'll pop into your blog. I'm seldom on my computer these days, When I do go on line, its normally a quick affair......sadly, I don't often browse my fellow bloggers sites either. I used to journal daily but even that has dwindled to a quick scetch and a few garbled sentances. Life has become unbelievably frenetic ...just been blessed with our first granddaughter...feels like my life has been put in a blender. We're compleatly besotted!