While channel hopping the other day, I stumbled across some or other channel where someone was asking a women to describe what her potential boyfriend should be like.

She began by saying how he should appreciate life, love and everything that goes with it.  That she is a dreamer and that he must share it (the dreams) with her “and encourage me to make my, and later on ours, come true.” At this stage I just thought, “…okay… what about his dreams then…”, but that line of thought soon stopped when I heard:

I need someone that can handle my pace of life. Someone that can appreciate the fact that I do have a full life, and that that person will only make it fuller. If a guy is going to be intimidated by my strong personality, then he will have to deal with it or move on, because I’m not a submissive girl. I’ve come much too far to let my individuality go for the man in my life.

I could only shake my head thinking, “She’s not going to be happy when a guy says that to her…”

Ek is ek en ek’s jou gek
Jy is jy want jy is vry
Agter jou aan, daar kom ek aan

Ek is hier te kort en daar te lank
Vir jou is alles net vir nou
Jy weet vir my, is dit lewenslank

Sonder jou tjoklitbeksoentjies
So sag soos katoentjies
Is my hart in stukke gekneus
Jou tjoklitbeksoentjies
So rond soos pampoentjies
So nat soos ‘n worshond se neus

Ek is ek en dies my plek
My tafel is vir twee gedek
Met tjoklits vir my, as ek ophou huil

Ek is hier gekwes en daar gewond
Ek gee bes, soos tjoklits lê,
stukkies van jou, in my lewe rond

Sonder jou tjoklitbeksoentjies
Is ek onvoldoentjies
‘n halwe boks tjoklits is leeg
Jou tjoklitbeksoentjies
Gereeld soos seisoentjies
Is my lewe bittersuurdeeg

Ek’s jou held maar ek sal smelt
sonder jou, om my gevou,
soos liefde gesink, in papiertjies wat blink

(Steve Hofmeyr – Tjoklitbeksoentjies)

Dis so mooi prentjie, ek wonder soms of daar ‘n dieperliggende rede is dat ek so baie daarvan hou.  Ek dink ook dis maklik om soms nogal verlore te voel wanneer jy opkyk na die uitspansel, so groot en wyd.  Somehow bring dit soms vir my tipe van perspektief oor die lewe, ander kere hoop ek net dis nie ‘n verskoning om te procrastinate nie!

Wat ons doen maak op klein skaal tog saak, maar dis ook goed om die groter prentjie, die uiteindelike doel, in gedagte te hou. Beauty is in die klein dingetjies te vinde, die nodige goedjies wat die groter prentjie gaan inkleur… jy moes gewag het, jy het nodig gehad om meer te doen.

Hierdie is onlangs by O’Hagens in Ninapak opgeneem, sommer gou deur Karin met my selfoon, so die klankkwaliteit is nie so goed nie.  Johan Hubner het die kareoke gedoen en die liedjie opgeneem terwyl ek sing, so iewers is daar nog ‘n hoë kwaliteit mp3-file van hierdie spesifieke geleentheid, sal kyk of ek hom eendag kan post…  o ja, die liedjie is “Jou Asem”, van Theuns Jordaan.

Hehehe, dis baie pret, enjoy!

Een van die vrae wat amper altyd aan ‘n blogger gestel word deur mense wat nie self blog nie, is hoekom doen jy dit? So vandag vra ek die vraag aan myself: Hoekom blog mense?
Inherent is ‘n blog tog ‘n joernaal, iets wat jou persoonlikheid en belangstellings reflekteer en bedoel is om in die openbaar geplaas te word sodat lesers jou gedagtes kan deel. Dis ‘n dagboek wat veronderstel is om daagliks (of ten minste gereeld) opgedateer te word met gebeure, gedagtes, opinies, kommentaar op sosiale gebeure, skakels na interessante artikels en of gunsteling musiek, publikasie van fotos en gedagtewisselling tussen vriende.

In my opinie is daar dus ‘n verskeidenheid van redes hoekom iemand sal blog, afhangend van die soort blog wat jy bedryf.  Wanneer dit handel oor ‘n onderwerp, miskien vliegkuns of visvang, dan is die doel obvious.  Wanneer dit ‘n persoonlike blog is, wel… hoekom hoegenaamd blog?

‘n Paar gedagtes:
* Miskien word jy voorsien van ‘n noodsaaklike uitlaatklep, ‘n plek waar jy kan sê wat jy wil wanneer jy wil, sonder die vrees van persoonlike veroordeling.
* Miskien kan jy op jou blog (anoniem selfs) na hartelus kla oor sosiale onregverdighede, politieke onbekwaamheid of pesoonlike hartseer of verlange, sonder dat jy jou real world friends van hulle trollies af maak!
* Miskien is dit iemand se wyse om dinge te verwerk, oor hartseer te kom en aan te beweeg. Die feit dat dit twee jaar later nogsteeds op die www rondsweef beteken nie dat jy nie daaroor is nie, dit was dalk juis die wyse hoe jy wel oor iets gekom het!
* Miskien is dit ‘n nuttige plaasvervanger vir duur afsprake met sielkundiges, miskien moet jy eerder blog as om vir ure jou vriende uit die werk te hou deur met hulle te wil gesels oor jou selfsugtige needs?
* Miskien het jy nodig om jou gedagtes of gevoel te verstaan, hulle word immers beter verstaan en geformuleer wanneer jy hulle moet neerskryf of aan iemand moet verduidelik.
* Miskien wil jy doodeenvoudig ‘n internet celebrity word of spog met al jou beroemde vriende!
*Ja, daa is nog baie, vertel my gerus…

Vir sommige mense is blogging doodeenvoudig ‘n mors van tyd, soos tuinmaak en sport ‘n totale mors van tyd vir ander mense is. Wat ek egter wel agtergekom het is dat jy soms nie kan glo wat jy 6 maande of ‘n jaar gelede geskryf het nie. Jy kom agter hoeveel jy gegroei het, jy dink *wow*, het ek DIT geskryf?? Hoe deurmekaar/mal/simpel/slim/oulik moes ek nie gewees het nie?!

Om my argument met myself mee af te sluit: Daar is baie redes hoekom mense blog, maak dit werklik saak hoekom? In my opinie, nee dit doen nie. As dit nie jou blog is nie, moenie worry oor ander mense se motivering nie, jy gaan dit in elk geval nie verstaan nie. Het jy ooit nodig om blogging te verdedig? Nope… hoekom sal jy wil!? Sodat iemand jou kan vertel wat dit is wat jy EERDER met jou tyd moet doen? Sodat hulle jou kan vetel HOE jy eintlik dinge moet doen?
Hehehe, nee ek glo nie… aan die einde van die dag kan jy mos maar net jouself beter probeer verstaan… en as blogging daartoe bydra, wel … hoekom nie!?

“Love is that condition in which the happiness of the other person is essential to your own.”

“Letting go of the one you love in the knowledge that they will be happier with someone else, is what love sometimes is about.”

Ek kyk gisteraand op ‘n stadium na ‘n episode van House en die laaste ruk het hy en sy eks-vrou weens omstandighede weer meer begin involved raak met mekaar. (In kort het die ou saam met wie sy was iets ernstigs makeer en House het hom gehelp.) Either way, dinge het na ‘n punt beweeg, hulle het obviously gevoelens vir mekaar gehad en sy het weens die emosionele implikasies moeilik kon besluit wat sy moet doen. House het egter een oggend ‘n ultimatum aan haar gestel – jy is of by my of by hom, jy kan nie altwee kry nie.   Teen die aand het hy haar weer gesien, sy het hom meegedeel dat sy haar man die aand sal inlig dat sy hom gaan verlaat.

Wel, wat moes uitdraai in blydskap het nie. House het haar ingelig dat sy dit nie moet doen nie.  Sy kon nie verstaan hoekom nie, hy was dan nou al maande agter haar aan en noudat sy ‘n besluit maak, is dit nie genoeg nie? Hy sê toe vir haar dat haar man bereid is wat om te verander, dat hy enige iets vir haar sal doen en dat hy wat House is, duidelik dit nie kan doen nie.  Hulle sal waarskynlik net vir ‘n rukkie gelukkig wees voordat sy weereens unhappy gaan raak omdat sy meer nodig het en hy dit nie kan gee nie.

In elk geval, wat is die doel van die vertelling? Wel, ek glo dat beide die aanhalings aan die begin van hierdie post eintlik maar presies dieselfde sê en ek probeer dit verduidelik aan die hand van ‘n TV-program waarin ‘n soortgelyke situasie voorkom. Beide aanhalings kan daarop betrekking hê.

Uit ‘n persoonlike oogpunt vind ek dit hartseer dat twee mense soms presies dieselfde ding vir mekaar kan sê op twee verskillende wyses en dat die eintlike boodskap nogsteeds verlore gaan. Insig en die vermoë om te luister en te verstaan is iets waaraan jy werk indien jy dit nie het nie, die gewilligheid om dit dan te gebruik kan jou net goed te pas kom – en wanneer jy nie kan nie… wel, ‘n verskoning vir jou optrede en gebrekkige toewyding werk net so goed, as jy ooit jouself sover sou kon kry.  Ek gaan nie wag nie en ook nie hare kloof oor detail nie, dit gaan nie gebeur nie en ek verwag nie dat jy dit eers sal besef nie. Sommige mense verskil doodeenvoudig te veel op die lange duur, basies soos Dr. House se optrede in die program so mooi illustreer.

Iemand wonder nou ander dag saam met my wat die storie is met Facebook, want dis asof die idee daarvan heeltemal handuit geruk het.

* Hoekom het jy ‘n account daar?

* Hoekom het jy 300 vriende as miskien 3 van hulle ooit op jou status update comment?

* Hoeveel van daai vriende bel jou sê een keer per week/maand net om te hoor hoe dit gaan?

* Buiten op Facebook, het jy actually gereeld real life kontak met hulle?

* Dink jy dat enige een van hulle actually dink dat wat jy skryf hoegenaamd saak maak?

Nou ja toe, aangesien ek nou al so rukkie lank besig is om die gebreekte dinge in en om my lewe te fix, dink ek is Facebook sommer spoedig ook op die lysie.  En hoekom nie?!

Daar is letterlik miljoene mense wat Facebook elke liewe dag vir hulle eie redes besonder nuttig vind.  Ek is seker as van jou familie oorsee woon, of jy’t vriende in verre lande en stede, dan is Facebook en Blogs ‘n maklike en goedkoop wyse om in aanraking te bly. Ek is seker Facebook is dalk selfs ‘n semi-aanvaarbare bemarkingsmiddel. Ek persoonlik dink al hoe meer dis ‘n massiewe vermorsing van my geluk, my gesin se tyd, my energie en so bietjie geld. In kort, die belegging raak vir my bietjie erg vir die opbrengs, maar ek reken dit kom alles neer op persoonlike smaak en keuse en die hoeveelheid tyd wat jy daagliks daaraan afstaan.

Enige ander goeie doel wat iemand wil deel? Enige verslaafdes?

Hello. Recognise me? No? Well, you see me all the time. You read my books, watch me on the big screen, feast on my art, cheer at my games, use my inventions, vote me into office, follow me into battle, take notes at my lectures, laugh at my jokes, marvel at my successes, admire my appearance, listen to my stories, discuss my politics, enjoy my music, excuse my faults, envy me my blessings. No? Still doesn’t ring a bell? Well, you have seen me. Of that I am positive. In fact, if there is one thing I am absolutely sure of, it is that. You have seen me.

Perhaps our paths crossed more privately. Perhaps I am the one who came along and built you up when you were down, employed you when you needed a job, showed the way when you were lost, offered confidence when you were doubting, made you laugh when you were blue, sparked your interest when you were bored, listened to you and understood, saw you for what you really are, felt your pain and found the answers, made you want to be alive. Of course you recognise me. I am your inspiration, your role model, your saviour, your leader, your best friend, the one you aspire to emulate, the one whose favour makes you glow.

But I can also be your worst nightmare. First I build you up because that’s what you need. Your skies are blue. Then, out of the blue, I start tearing you down. You let me do it because that’s what you are used to. You are dumfounded. But I was wrong to take pity on you. You really ARE incompetent, disrespectful, untrustworthy, immoral, ignorant, inept, egotistical, constrained, disgusting. You are a social embarrassment, an unappreciative partner, an inadequate parent, a disappointment, a sexual flop, a financial liability.

I tell you this to your face. I must. It is my right, because it is. I behave, at home and away, in any way I want to, with total disregard for conventions, mores, or the feelings of others. It is my right, because it is. I lie to your face, without a twitch or a twitter, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. In fact, my lies are not lies at all. They are the truth, my truth. And you believe them, because you do, because they do not sound or feel like lies, because to do otherwise would make you question your own sanity, which you have a tendency to do anyway, because from the very beginning of our relationship you placed your trust and hopes in me, derived your energy, direction, stability, and confidence from me and from your association with me. So what’s the problem if the safe haven I provide comes with a price? Surely I am worth it and then some.

Run to our friends. Go. See what that will get you. Ridicule. People believe what they see and what they see is the same wonderful me that you also saw and still do. What they also see is the very mixed up person that you have obviously become. The more you plead for understanding, the more convinced they are that the crazy one is you, the more isolated you feel, and the harder you try to make things right again, not by changing me but by accepting my criticisms and by striving to improve yourself. Could it be that you were wrong about me in the beginning? So wrong as that? How do you think our friends will react if you insist that they are also wrong about me? After all, they know that it really is you who have thwarted my progress, tainted my reputation, and thrown me off course.

I disappoint you? Outrageous! You are the one who have disappointed me. Look at all the frustrations you cause me. Lucky for you, I have an escape from all this, and fortunately my reputation provides enough insulation from the outside world so I can indulge in this escape with impunity. What escape? Why, those eruptions of rage you dread and fear. Ah, it feels so good to rage. It is the expression of and the confirmation of my power over you, my absolute superiority. Lying feels good too, for the same reason, but nothing compares to the pleasure of exploding for no material reason and venting my anger with total abandon, all the time a spectator at my own show and at your helplessness, pain, fear, frustration, and dependence.

In fact my raging is precisely what allows me to stay with you. Go ahead. Tell our friends about it. See if they can imagine what it’s like, let alone believe it. The more outrageous the things you say about me, the more convinced they are that it is you who have taken a turn for the worse. And don’t expect much more from your therapist either. You may tell him this or that, but what he sees when I visit him is something quite different. So what’s the therapist to believe? After all, it was you who came for help. No! That’s what this is all about. No! That simple two-letter word that, regardless of how bad I am, you simply cannot say. Who knows? You might even acquire some of my behaviour yourself.

But you know what? This may come as a shock, but I can also be my own worst nightmare. I can and I am. You see, at heart my life is nothing more than illusion-clad confusion. I have no idea why I do what I do, nor do I care to find out. In fact, the mere notion of asking the question is so repulsive to me that I employ all of my resources to repel it. I reconstruct facts, fabricate illusions, act them out, and thus create my own reality. It is a precarious state of existence indeed, so I am careful to include enough demonstrable truth in my illusions to ensure their credibility. And I am forever testing that credibility on you and on the reactions of others.

Fortunately my real attributes and accomplishments are in sufficient abundance to fuel my illusions seemingly forever. And modern society, blessed/cursed modern society, values most what I do best and thus serves as my accomplice. Even I get lost in my own illusions, swept away by my own magic.

So, not to worry if you still do not recognise me. I don’t recognise me either. In fact, I am not really sure who I am. That’s probably a question you never ask of yourself. Yet I wonder about it all the time. Perhaps I am not too different from everyone else, just better. After all, that’s the feedback I get. My admirers certainly wish they were  me. They just don’t have the gifts I have, nor the courage I have to express them. That’s what the universe is telling me.

Then again THE universe or MY universe? As long as the magic of my illusions works on me too, there really is no need for distinction. All I need is an abundant fan club to stay on top of it all. So I am constantly taking fan club inventory, testing the loyalty of present members with challenges of abuse, writing off defectors with total indifference, and scouting the landscape for new recruits. Do you see my dilemma? I use people who are dependent on me to keep my illusions alive. So really it is I who am dependent on them.

Even the rage, that orgasmic release of pain and anger, works better with an audience. On some level I am aware of my illusions, but to admit that would spoil the magic. And that I couldn’t bear. So I proclaim that what I do is of no consequence and no different from what others do, and thus I create an illusion about my creating illusions.

So, no, I don’t recognise me any better than you do. I wouldn’t dare. Like my fans, I marvel at my own being. Then again, sometimes I wish that I were not the person I am. You find that confusing? How do you think it makes me feel? I need my own magic to stay afloat. Sometimes others like me recruit me into their magic. But that’s ok. As long as we feed off of each other, who’s the worse for wear? It only confirms my illusion about my illusions: that I am no different from most other people, just a bit better.

But I AM different and we both know it, although neither one of us dares to admit it. Therein lies the root of my hostility. I tear you down because in reality I am envious of you BECAUSE I am different. At some haunting level I see my magic for what it is and realise that people around me function just fine WITHOUT any “magic”.

This terrifies me. Panic stricken, I try all my old tricks: displays of my talents, unnecessary deceptions, self-serving distortions, skilful seductions, ludicrous projections, frightening rages, whatever. Normally, that works. But if it fails, watch out. Like a solar-powered battery in darkness, my fire goes out and I cease to exist. Destitution sets in.

That is the key to understanding me. Most people strive for goals and feel good when they approach them. They move toward something positive. I move in the same direction but my movement is away from something negative. That’s why I never stop, am never content, no matter what I achieve. That negative thing seems to follow me around like a shadow. I dowse myself in light and it fades, but that’s all it does. Exhausted, I ultimately succumb to it, again and again.

Where did it come from, this negativity? Probably from before I learned to talk. When you were exploring your world for the first time, with the usual little toddler mishaps, your mother kept a careful eye on you, intervened when she saw you heading for danger, and comforted you when you made a mistake, even if you cried.

Well, that’s not how it was for me. My mother’s expectations of me were much higher. Mistakes were mistakes and crying was not the way to get her approval. That required being perfect, so that’s exactly what I became. Not the little awkward toddler that I was, but my mother’s model child. Not the brave and curious little person that I really was, but the fearful personification of my mother’s ideal.

What you were experiencing through your little mishaps and mistakes were small doses of shame. What you were learning from your quick recoveries was shame repair. At first your mother did most of the repairing. Through repetition, you gradually learned how to do it by yourself. Shame repair brain circuitry was being laid down that would carry you for the rest of your life. I had no such luck. I simply did not acquire that skill when nature had intended my brain to acquire it. No one enjoys shame. But most people can deal with it. Not me. I fear it the way most people fear snakes.

How many others like me are there? More than you might think, and our numbers are increasing. Take twenty people off the street and you will find one whose mind ticks so much like mine that you could consider us clones. Impossible, you say. It is simply not possible for that many people – highly accomplished, respected, and visible people – to be out there replacing reality with illusions, each in the same way and for reasons they know not. It is simply not possible for so many shame-phobic robots of havoc and chaos, as I describe myself, to function daily midst other educated, intelligent, and experienced individuals, and pass for normal. It is simply not possible for such an aberration of human cognition and behaviour to infiltrate and infect the population in such numbers, virtually undetected by the radar of mental health professionals. It is simply not possible for so much visible positive to contain so much concealed negative. It is simply not possible.

I am, as I said, my own worst nightmare. True, the world is replete with my contributions, and I am lots of fun to be around. And true, most contributions like mine are not the result of troubled souls. But many more than you might want to believe are. And if by chance you get caught in my web, I can make your life a living hell. But remember this. I am in that web too. The difference between you and me is that you can get out.

- Ken Heilbrunn, M.D

from the book, Malignant Self Love by Sam Vaknin, Ph.D