the laugh of loving forgiveness

As the years of my life pile up on top of each other I find that some skills I have desired have become mine to wrestle with, while others I perhaps took for granted have become elusive. By means of example; after many years of cooking for my family the simple process of making rice that didn’t burn or stick to itself was beyond me until recently. Skill acquired. What has been missing from my life is a state of lightheartedness. I laugh, but there is very little joy in it. I see humor but, the wild abandon of laughing til my guts ache with tears streaming down my face took a vacation and has yet to return. I hold on to hope, and in that way leave a light on for my mirth to find it’s way home.

Is it just the passing of time that robs us of joy? or is there a choice we make to become so tangled with the serious matters of our adult life that we forget the simple pleasure of laughing for the sake of the joy it brings, risking absurdity, suspending disbelief for a moment to catch our breath. In a meeting yesterday someone commented about somnambulism which brought another woman close to tears with laughter. The general attitude toward this? Impatience. There was no joke, why would sleepwalking be so funny? Instead of enjoying the laughter as an opportunity to lighten the mood most crossed their arms, in the defensive stance of being in the presence of something offensive. How did we get so caught up in our seriousness? To be honest, watching this unfold, I felt a pang for my joy that is still out wandering.

For many years now I have relentlessly kept my true joy at bay, by numbing my pain. Five months after my mom died, around the time of her birthday (the first passing of that date without her life to celebrate) a dam wall broke in my heart. There was nothing outside of being in a coma that could stop me experiencing the full force of the pain that I had been holding at arms length. I was crushed. Overwhelmed. Dumped. Broken yet, inside all that pain, there was a trickle of the laughter that had been mine mingled with the warmth of the loving support of my children and new husband. These things I had held at bay with the same arm and hand that held away the unavoidable pain of being alive.

Today I’m thinking about what it would take to forgive life for being at the same time so impossibly beautiful, and so awesomely painful. How do I find balance between these two extremes, without sacrificing one for fear of the other again???

Please share your thoughts and experience on this subject with me in the comments section below – Thank you –

Love always.


Married Lady

I have been married for exactly one month today – to mark my return from my “honeymoon” I have decided to share my perspective of my wedding day with you. Since the whole thing went out as a live stream and then a day later as a two part youtube video I have decided to just share the words, and you can go happy hunting for the images yourself (for those who haven’t already seen the affair).

Our wedding took place in a small garden at the side of my house – the garden I sit in on breaks from song writing, and where I have stared up at the sky many times. Starting in 2001 when I moved here with my ex husband and our small children, she was four and he was 7 months old – then year after year, with hope, and despair in my heart. That garden has been my “time out” spot, and a place, where I sat on the paving after ingesting a whole bag of “magic mushrooms” watching the decay of the world as the new year turned. It was where I went to cry when my ex moved out, and where I went to dance in wild abandon when my record was finally finished. I had cast my circle there, and so it seemed fitting that we married there… Michael spent two days, and lord knows how many rands, making the space beautiful. I now have the most gorgeous Mr Lincoln roses, several Lavender bushes, Marigolds, and a stone pathway – reflecting in reality how beautiful that little private space is in my minds eye.

The weather was a worry, there had been rain predicted for days leading up to the wedding and, naturally, on the day of the wedding. Each day, although there were clouds, no rain. I crossed my fingers, said a little prayer (more than once) under my breath, and went ahead with the plans to marry outside. As many of you may know – here in South Africa, a legal marriage requires the participants to sign the wedding register under a fixed roof. So our actual legal wedding took place at our dining room table before the camera’s went on, and before I was even properly dressed for the occasion. I had no intention of getting married in white – I had chosen an Autumn coloured Sun Goddess outfit that had been given to me by the woman who introduced Michael and I, Lana Jane Pike Allingham. A red and brown corset, with a red brown and orange wrap skirt…However in light of the register needing to be signed and witnessed under a fixed roof, and our desire to do this before the handfasting ceremony, along with my not wanting Michael to see me in the Sun Goddess number and my brown lace cape before the ceremony – I came out in a white terry cloth dressing gown, there we stood signing the registers, having our finger prints and some pictures taken, and I was in a white gown…

Our wedding was attended by a very small group of people, Michael’s best friend Richard and his wife Janet, my cousin Claire and her husband Brendan – we chose two couples to witness our marriage, because we respect their marriages and the way in which they have become a unit, a united front to the world, we hope to emulate that, and to have their encouragement, advice, and support in creating a union, that like theirs, may be an inspiration.  Michael made vows to my children, and they to him, making our family circle complete. Then there was the surprise guest, my dear friend (who lives in the United Kingdom and flew out a day before the event), Shelley, who photographed the wedding with such a keen and tender eye – the pictures are a treasure. She captured the day as it unfolded, without intruding or posing us in any way, she documented things as they happened. The Ceremony was very short, she got some incredible shots, including the exact moment both Michael and I lifted off the ground as we jumped the broom. I don’t know how to thank her for this wonderful gift, perhaps one day I will find a way.

As we sealed our promises to each other with a kiss, the final blessing said, thunder clapped in the sky above our heads, and a gentle rain began to fall. We managed to bring everything in, get all our guests in their cars – search for the dogs who had taken a run out into the neighbourhood, and head out to our favorite Italian place in the area. We had reserved a private dining space for our little wedding party, as the waitress brought our drinks, the sky opened and the rain that those little whispered prayers had held at bay for days, all came down in a glorious storm. We ate, talked laughed, and I didn’t have to leave my seat to be able to see my friends – when we had filled ourselves with great food and good company I was ready to get out to the hotel room we had booked for the night, have a long hot shower, curl up next to my husband, and well…you get the picture;)

The room we had booked sounded great on paper, but in reality we suffered for the designer’s art. I got no sleep, and not for the reasons you might be thinking, but for design flaws I’m not going to get into here. At 7:30am we went down for breakfast, only to be greeted by an owner who had no idea where her staff (including the chef) were… we had a passable breakfast, checked out of the hotel, came home, got under the covers and slept into the afternoon… Michael spent the late afternoon and evening fixing the sound on the wedding video and posting it in two parts to youtube. The next day he went to work, I collected Jasmine from the breeder and life has been filled with puppy love, house training, children on school holiday, chocolate bunnies and domestic blessings for the last month.

I pray that love find you, and that your eyes open to the simplicity of beauty. Mrs. Nicole Theron.