#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 31st December

Hello my lovely readers

Here is the last entry in this series for this year. However, rather than this being about the significance of the final day of December, my focus is on how it feels more like a mid-point than either an ending or a beginning.

And that message is most properly conveyed through the theme of music.

Tonight we're going to the Botanical Gardens at Kirstenbosch for their New Year's Eve concert. One of the bands featured is Freshlyground, who I've loved since I was a young teen, but have never seen live because I haven't made it home to SA for ages (as if I needed to say that one more time, hehe). I'm so thrilled - not least because this is their last gig as a group. The thought of getting to be even a small part of that bittersweet event fills me with joy. Their music has got me through some of the trickiest times in my life, and also provided the soundtrack for some of the most special, from the earlier sounds of Jika Jika and Nomvula right up to the most recent vibe of Can't Stop. It feels so apt that, at the end of a decade which has been characterised by difficult but determined physical and emotional recovery, I finally get to listen live, at home, and say, 'I did it!'. I got here, both literally and metaphorically - and I'm ready to move forward further.

I'm more grateful to this group of wonderful musicians than these waffly words can convey.

It's also been an honour to be here to witness the start of the lovely lead vocalist, Zolani Mahola's, solo career as a singer and storyteller. So this sonnet is a shout out to her too, as thanks for her cross-continental creative solidarity, our impromptu dance party a couple of weeks ago, and the reminder to be brave and bold in the tales we tell to the world.

31st December 2019

This poem celebrates the strength of song;

how music offers meaning to our life.

Both joy when things are right and help when wrong -

a soundtrack for our glee as much as strife.

Sometimes it is the wisdom in the words,

which touch a special chord within our souls,

and others, still, a beat or tune we've heard

prompts movement in our way (for me, a roll!).

And often, it's a blend of both of these,

where melody's a perfect match with lyrics,

that offers us such profound poetries

and lets the song find fusion in our spirits.

The latter kind's the work of Freshlyground

and I'll always be glad they've been around.

(My blog is refusing to embed a video from their official YouTube channel, so here's a link to my favourite of their newest songs, 'Makes Me Happy'.)

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 30th December

Hello my lovely readers

Here we are at the penultimate entry of this series, and also my penultimate poem of 2019. So I thought, as a lot of them have been about achievements - and particularly 'bigger' ones like flying and surfing - I'd use today's to write about a 'smaller' one that is in some ways the most significant.

I've had a fear of falling out of bed since I was about ten. It got worse in my mid-teens. It means that my beds at home, and at the universities I've been to, have sides to help me feel safe. It also means that, a little ironically, I feel most secure in sleep when I'm camping, because I'm on the floor. (You might ask, at this point, why I don't just always sleep on the floor - and the answer is that it's a lot of effort for other people to get me there.)

You can imagine that this fear could cause complications on holiday - especially on one where we've been staying in several different places. In fact, I worked out this morning that I've slept in eight beds so far. They haven't had sides, so we've constructed barricades of various kinds from a combination of pillows, chairs and my wheelchair. I haven't always slept through, but that's been more because of discomfort than fear. I haven't always felt completely safe, either - our constructions inevitably aren't as solid as my side at home - but I've coped. And that feels great.

(Featured picture from a while back is me in bed at Hannah and Lynne's, with my snuggle buddy, their rescue cat)

30th December 2019

Today I'm thankful I've had restful sleep,

all whilst I've been in eight (eight!) different beds

and that we have discovered ways to keep

me feeling safe when often I'd be scared.

I'm not entirely sure what sparked this fear

and many people tell me it's irrational;

I know it feels real when it's here

and panic sends me off into a spiral.

There have been times like that during this trip

when my brain was convinced that I might fall

but somehow I've managed to cope with it

and not just sleep, but rest, and dream, and all.

To others it might seem like a 'small' thing -

to me it's the best gift this year could bring.

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 29th December

Hello my lovely readers

To anyone in the UK, or anywhere else in the Northern Hemisphere, tonight's entry will read as very much unseasonal. However, as I'm in the Southern, it'll hopefully make sense. We spent the day out with yet more childhood friends, it was very hot, and my body loved it.

29th December 2019

This sonnet is in homage to the heat

and how it makes my muscles all relax

because I've been reminded nothing beats

the warmth to lessen spasms and their tax.

It helps me move about in ways which, frankly,

are nigh upon impossible in cold.

I easily find daily things for thanks here 

because my body feels much less old.

I know in terms of age I'm in my twenties

and therefore have the joy of being young

but, whilst I'm always grateful for that plenty,

in winter all the days seem very long.

When I am chilled I wish to hibernate

but, when I'm warm, I want to celebrate.

 

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 28th December

Hello my lovely readers

Today's sonnet is also inspired by our time with Mel and Desi, but this time the accessibility of the property. It was renovated fourteen years ago, and despite knowing I likely wouldn't visit very often, Mel designed things with me in mind. From the level access shower and lowered light switches inside (!!!) to the entrance with wooden sleepers over the gravel (in the featured photo). Much like Jenny's efforts with building the ramp at hers, this thoughtfulness made me feel so held and welcomed. That's what this poem is about, so it's also for everyone I know who has been similiarly accommodating over the years, with everything from portable metal ramps and planks of wood outside to internal modifications.

28th December 2019

Through living life alongside an impairment,

especially trundling in a wheelchair,

my access needs can feel an embarrassment

if it's an issue when I go somewhere.

Sometimes I think I should just stay inside

(or outside, as the situation calls)

and that it would be better if I hide

and not try to go visiting at all.

Imagine, if you will, the joy of knowing

that friends and family consider me

when planning how their houses should be flowing

or finding things to add externally.

I'm grateful that, for them, being accessible

is something they all try to make successful.

 

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 27th December

Hello my lovely readers

Today's sonnet is about the sea, inspired by the lovely views from Mel and Desi's place. I haven't got a photo, alas, as that involves support from other people and sometimes I like my sonnets to be an entirely independent activity. But hopefully the words will evoke at least some of the scenery.

27th December 2019

This poem is a paean to the sea

in honour of the solace that it offers

and all the healing vibes its waves bring me

since somehow its strong forces make me softer.

By that I mean it restores equilibrium,

reminding me that life, like tides, will ebb

and flow, and what might seem like a delirium

is just the chitter-chatter of my head.

We all have such a varied inner dialogue

(acknowledgement will help us all makes sense

for, though it often feels like a monologue,

frank conversations stop things being tense.)

Just like the rolling waves of gorgeous oceans

we're surrounded by tumultuous emotions  

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 26th December

Hello my lovely readers

So far on this trip I've loved catching up with friends I haven't seen for years - literally - but we've usually forgotten to take photos. That has changed today, on our visit to Mel and Desi's place in Pringle Bay. Desi and I have been friends since we were teenagers (when he would hitch rides on the back of my chair!), and he, Mel and her lovely (late) partner Nancy have always been significant members of our found family. It's such a joy to reconnect, and feels as though we've slipped right back into old habits. Nancy is of course dearly missed, yet extremely present too, and I hope she would approve of our antics.

The featured picture has me and Desi in the foreground and Jojo and Mel in the background.

26th December 2019

This poem is a homage to dear friends

with whom I still maintain a strong connection

and holds the hope that our link will extend

for many further years of fond reflection.

There's such a special place within my soul

for those who've always striven to include

me in our plans; it makes me feel whole

and grateful for their willing attitude.

When Desi knew I'd like to have a dance

or race as he ran right beside my chair

he'd jump up, keen to let me have a chance.

'Tho' time has passed, it seems that nothing's changed

except, perhaps, with longer legs, his range!

#SeasonalSonnets 2019: 25th December

Hello my lovely readers

Today being Christmas Day and (almost) the middle of Chanukah, I thought I'd write about light, especially as our multifaith celebrations are in the sun this year. Or I should say in summer, because it's been a bit showery so far. But I guess that's possibly a more poignant point - both light and shade can coexist, and that's what these sorts of festivals are trying to remind us. If you've read this series, or indeed this blog, so far, you'll know this is a bittersweet day/time for me - as it is for many people. And, as much as I may not feel it on a personal level, that's a valid response. Aside from particular circumstances, the basic expectation to feel joyful for a day's duration can be hard to match with actual feelings.

The flipside of that, though, is that there can be joy in moments where it's perhaps least expected. As there was, for instance, this morning. We visited my godmother for brief hugs, and to test out the permanent ramp she's had built for me following Mama's earlier temporary experiments. There was a swift but intense downpour just as we left, so we thought it might be slippery going back outside, and that I might even get stuck in the sand in the garden - especially because my shoulder has decided that today is the perfect day to seize up with continuous spasms.

But I didn't slip, or get stuck! And I felt so free chugging like a train down the sturdy slats which have made it possible for me not only to get into her main house but to do so independently.

Thank you, Jen, you're a legend.

So this sonnet is to wish you all as merry festivities (of all kinds) as possible, whatever that means for you. And for anyone struggling, have a check of the hashtag #JoinIn on Twitter - lots of folx there if you need a chat/community.

25th December 2019

This time of year is when we celebrate

the planet's gift of light and what it means,

and sometimes that is hard t'appreciate

if we're not feeling great as it might seem.

But that's when I seek solace in 'small' things

to try to ground myself and keep on track;

and knowing we don't know what next days bring

I'm helped to focus forward and not back.

That's not to negate my more tricky emotions

because what coexists with light is dark

but rather to remember I have options

when life is sitting heavy on my heart.

For, whilst this Christmukah has brought me cramps,

Not shoulders nor showers troubled the ramp!