An interesting trend has occurred with me in my time in college. Ever since my very first semester at South Alabama in January 2013, each semester that followed was better than the preceding one. By the time we reached the end of Spring 2014, I thought to myself that it would be impossible to improve thereon. How wrong I was! I am now in Fall 2015 and life is absolutely beautiful. It's not for me to go on about achievements or any of the like, but I will tell you about a little cellphone app that has put my personal growth (especially with respect to relating to women) on an accelerated pace. If you are at South Alabama, Yik-Yak may bring a smile, a frown or a cringe to your face. Hopefully my post today can turn the frowns upside down and encourage the few who take time to read this.
I always knew about Yik-Yak what it was about (basically a service where you read anonymous tweets or "yaks" by people in your area) and I knew that I had been mentioned by some yakkers before. The extent whereto the conversation in the collective conscious of South's student populace raged about me was something I was placidly unaware of. Every now and then a friend or teammate would tell me about me being mentioned. It was at the beginning of this month that much of these mentions were happening, but back then I didn't have the app. Sometimes I wonder how my behavior and thoughts would have been different had I downloaded the app earlier because the Thor furor was actually borderline unsafe. For those that do not know, a number of people on South's campus consider me to be Thor. I should note that I am not the only one to be called by this name, but I seem to be the most enduring Thor on campus. Why Thor? Long, dirty blonde hair I suppose. A lot of people have long dirty blonde hair, yes? Indeed, but people seem to remember me more than the others. Maybe it's because of my shoelessness, maybe it's because of my short shorts, maybe it's because of my mad biking skills.
Regardless, the Thormania of early September was borderline unsafe because people were actually yakking about my every move. I am not kidding. When I entered or left a building someone would yak about it. Obviously I did not know this at the time, but found out weeks later. There were actually numerous yakkers who stood up for me and told these people that were yakking my every move to stop doing that because I needed privacy. Had people not told me about this, I would have been completely oblivious about it. I saw no change in behaviour of people towards me during those weeks. Just the odd stare here and there, but that was normal for me. Maybe now and then someone would stop and proclaim to others that I am Thor and even a brave few asked me whether I was Thor. That was it though. The point of this paragraph was to highlight that even though something might be at the very forefront of the collective consciousness of an entire people, there is a chance that those affected by it may never know about it. Why is that? I wish I had a definitive answer, but fear would definitely be up there.
Fear brings me to the next big idea in this post. As I said earlier, a brave few ever contacted me during this period. All those that did I ended up having fruitful exchanges with. There was one though that stood head and shoulders above the others. It started with something innocuous as asking whether I had a Kik by an anonymous profile on a social media. She will henceforth be titled Thoradorer to protect her identity as well. I did not have a Kik at the time and before I knew I was asked something I could give, but it would be hard for me to do so. My blog is all about transparency, but this one I will keep mum. Before long my relationship with Thoradorer took all kinds of turns. She asked tough questions and I was back in the psychologist's office of June 2013. The struggles I took to the psychologist in 2013 has not been entirely resolved. I came to the conclusion that socially I have grown tremendously because I am much more able to communicate with others, relate to others and build and maintain friendships. I am really proud of having come this far, but Thoradorer was not happy and wanted to see more progress. We realized that I still struggle with self-worth and self-esteem issues (I actually blogged about this back in 2014). These same issues arguably contribute at least somewhat to my underperforming in discus. However, I have always been aware of these two issues and I could openly admit to them. I have made some progress on them since 2013, but not enough. Thoradorer then pushed onwards and hit hard on probably my greatest struggle so far in this life - romance and women. I have never had a girlfriend and I have never gone on a date before (well, at least I haven't been on a one-on-one excursion with one female that both parties described as a date). Thoradorer's digging commenced.
I will not go into details about the conversation, but will highlight some themes that came from them. I have developed so many defense mechanisms, rationalizations and intellectualizations about my woman-less life. Some defense mechanisms include me moralizing that I don't want to approach women based on looks alone (which, on average, most men do). This happens because some of my feminism teachings has told me that women don't want to be catcalled or solely looked upon for their beauty. I overcompensate and try to not even look at women sometimes, when in the end, I do everyone a disservice by not making eye contact. So, I am really sorry for all the people I never looked at (I am not a cold person, just shy) and especially to the one girl who made her hair pretty for me and I never noticed it (I am so sorry, had I know I would at the very least have given you the respect you deserve). Since this realization I have made a concerted effort to make more contact (both duration and frequency with strangers). I also try to smile and I must say this has been a powerful boost to my self-esteem. It's absolutely brightens my day when I smile at a girl and she smiles back. It's one of those things that make every other struggle in this life seem like nothing at all.
Another fear/defense mechanism is that I fear failure and rejection. The idea that someone would not want to talk to me or not give me a chance is tough for me because I have never approached any woman with evil intentions (not that I can remember). However, it shouldn't be an attack on my character if someone says no to me. There are a plethora of reasons why someone would say no and most of the time it comes down to time and place.
A final one that I will share in this post (before it becomes way too long) is that I have always been a bit closed for romance. It's funny, I blog about how I desire it and many nights I feel very lonely but I seem to resist it at the same time. How could someone that desires something so much also fear it so much? However, I know that I can never fully enjoy this life, fully grow if I don't season my maleness with external femaleness. I strongly believe in the Greek maxim, "Nothing in excess." which to me means balance. I cannot become the best athlete if I cannot look a woman in the eye without being overcome with anxiety, I cannot become a great husband if I do not get to understand the hearts, the minds, the wiles, the games, the triumphs and tragedies of women and I certainly cannot become a great father if I cannot be brave enough to stand up for women.
How does Yik-Yak play into all of this personal development? Well, other than helping me discover all my struggles and finally giving me the confidence to admit openly that I struggle with romance, Thoradorer told me download Yik-Yak. It was a great decision. It did exactly as she said it would. I used to put women on a pedestal, in other words I idealized them too much (too much idealization leads to too much fear and eventually disappointment). The app helped me to humanize all members of the fairer sex that surround me. I learn that they have same anxieties that I do. The same anxiety that builds up in me if I feel the desire to approach or talk to a girl, that same anxiety is within them when I am around. I like to think about the analogy of the spider and I. When I see the spider, I am scared as hell of it, but when the spider sees me, it's probably at least equally as scared! If we both could just admit our fears then this life would be so much less of a hassle. Because I am aware of this fear, any girl that has the courage to talk to me I always tell her that she is courageous. I tell it because I understand the fear, I tell it because I know I am too scared to do it and I tell it that what she did is especially brave in a culture that tells women to wait for love. Love and romance is out there for all of us, but it is only to be gained by those brave enough to reach out and take it. That's why we often find ourselves questioning couples so often. How in the world did he manage to get her because she is so high above him? He simply was the bravest. Even if you are the best looking guy, with all the money, all the abdominal muscles in the right places and with all the right moves, if you know what I mean, you will never date to your potential unless you have the courage to take the leap of faith - to break the barriers of non-communication between you and your target and be prepared to fail. That, my dear readers, is what I need to learn to do before my time in college runs out. I have the opportunity of a lifetime. Many men would kill to be in a position of campus fame as myself (and would also much better make use of this privilege than I am currently doing).
If you are reading this and wanted to talk to me, hey, my social medias are always open and I make time for everyone - ugly or beautiful, short or tall, fat or thin, black or white. My belief is still that human relationships are the most important thing in this life. I will always make time for others, but know that I am just as scared as you are about taking the leap of faith. I mean, I am writing an entire essay about how scared I am about talking to girls and God knows whether it may change anything or whether it may just make me get comfortable because I got a fear of my chest. The key though to personal growth is to never become truly content. There is always more to chase, more to aspire to, but don't take this too far though. Eventually, for things and people outside, of ourselves we all have to settle for something at some point. Don't settle too soon, but don't wait too long either - both are just as bad.
My thanks go out to my fellow students and especially Thoradorer for challenging and changing me through the cut-throat world which is Yik-Yak. I see the very worst of humanity thereon, but also the very best of humanity and that, my dear readers, gives me courage, joy and, above all, hope. Thormania may have petered out, but maybe now Thor will move from our screens and right into our actual lives. That, that is beautiful thing.
All of life is interaction
TheLonelyman
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
Saturday, 22 August 2015
Ontskakeling van ons Erfenis
As mens op jou bed sit en Dana Snyman se Onder die Radar lees (dankie Agtersitplekvensterdromer) en die laatsomer Saterdag son se laaste strale deur jou onoopmaakbare venster die boek se bladsye verhelder word mens sommer op 'n reis van heimweë geplaas na dae wat lank reeds vergaan is.
Soos Dana vertel van sy kinderdae in ons land se droeë intern, daar in Kuruman se wereld, word ek ook vlugtelik na my eie kinderdorpe van Hondeklipbaai, Koingnaas en Kleinzee vervoer in die soorgelyke droeë, maar helder Namakwaland. My eie en Dana se lewensverhale is nie noodwendig dieselfde nie, maar vanuit elke bladsy tap daar gevoelens en emosies wat my terugneem na Suid-Afrika. Die woorde van elke bladsy laat my ook terselfde tyd die verlede met die hede en die toekoms kontrasteer. Dis ongelooflik hoe baie ons Afrikaner volk verander het in die afgelope 30 jaar. As 'n 21 jarige jongman het ek die voorreg om deel van die ewolusie van ons volk en mense te wees. Ons word intern gewroeg deur destydse mantras dat die Afrikaner by die suidpunt van Afrika geplaas is deur God om beskawing na die mense en die land te bring en hedendaagse ontnugtering waar honderde duisende Afrikaners die land verlaat en heeltemal afvallig word van ons erfenis, godsdiens en geskiedenis.
Dit is verseker 'n interessante tyd om Afrikaans te wees, veral iemand soos myself wat hier aan Amerika se suidpunt sit. Ek het die voorreg van 'n uitkyk wat toelaat dat ek ons kultuur en mense se ewolusie dop te hou met minder partydigheid as een wat tans in ons kulturele warboel is. Dit blyk of ons stry of ons ons taal, kultuur en leefwyse moet prysgee en liewer konformeer met die internasionale gemeenskap van Engels praat, internet lewens lei, tegnologies gedrewe wees en liberale denkwyses aanneem of die ander kant van die munt verg weer dat ons soos die Israeliete van ouds vasklou aan oorbleefsels van 'n tyd van ossewa bestuur en nie-Afrikaners uit sluit uit ons lewens. 'n Mens kan nogal hierdie stryd van tradisie teen modernisme in ons musiek sien. Die Steve Hofmeyrs en Bok van Blerke van die wereld speel op bang Afrikaners se gevoelens om ons te laat dink dat ons kultuur aan't uitsterwe is. Die Fokofpolisiekarre en Die Antwoorde is weer helde van die renegate en afvalliges want hul spreek na kwessies soos vertroue aan God, konformisme aan die Afrikaner kultuur en isolasie van die buitewereld.
Hierdie generasie van ons jongmense is seker die belangrikste sedert die Voortrekkers, al weet ons dit nie. Dit gaan in ons hande wees of ons die Afrikaner nasie oor 100 jaar slegs in die anale van geskiedenis kan opspoor, omdat ons heeltemal geassimileer het met die globale kultuur, of dat jy nog die bittereinders gaan vind daar in Orania, afsgesluit van die wereld.
Dit is in ons hande om ons kultuur die 21ste eeu in te neem; om 'n fyn balans te tref tussen tradisie en verandering.
Kom ons sien waarna it als na gaan lei
DieAlleenige
Soos Dana vertel van sy kinderdae in ons land se droeë intern, daar in Kuruman se wereld, word ek ook vlugtelik na my eie kinderdorpe van Hondeklipbaai, Koingnaas en Kleinzee vervoer in die soorgelyke droeë, maar helder Namakwaland. My eie en Dana se lewensverhale is nie noodwendig dieselfde nie, maar vanuit elke bladsy tap daar gevoelens en emosies wat my terugneem na Suid-Afrika. Die woorde van elke bladsy laat my ook terselfde tyd die verlede met die hede en die toekoms kontrasteer. Dis ongelooflik hoe baie ons Afrikaner volk verander het in die afgelope 30 jaar. As 'n 21 jarige jongman het ek die voorreg om deel van die ewolusie van ons volk en mense te wees. Ons word intern gewroeg deur destydse mantras dat die Afrikaner by die suidpunt van Afrika geplaas is deur God om beskawing na die mense en die land te bring en hedendaagse ontnugtering waar honderde duisende Afrikaners die land verlaat en heeltemal afvallig word van ons erfenis, godsdiens en geskiedenis.
Dit is verseker 'n interessante tyd om Afrikaans te wees, veral iemand soos myself wat hier aan Amerika se suidpunt sit. Ek het die voorreg van 'n uitkyk wat toelaat dat ek ons kultuur en mense se ewolusie dop te hou met minder partydigheid as een wat tans in ons kulturele warboel is. Dit blyk of ons stry of ons ons taal, kultuur en leefwyse moet prysgee en liewer konformeer met die internasionale gemeenskap van Engels praat, internet lewens lei, tegnologies gedrewe wees en liberale denkwyses aanneem of die ander kant van die munt verg weer dat ons soos die Israeliete van ouds vasklou aan oorbleefsels van 'n tyd van ossewa bestuur en nie-Afrikaners uit sluit uit ons lewens. 'n Mens kan nogal hierdie stryd van tradisie teen modernisme in ons musiek sien. Die Steve Hofmeyrs en Bok van Blerke van die wereld speel op bang Afrikaners se gevoelens om ons te laat dink dat ons kultuur aan't uitsterwe is. Die Fokofpolisiekarre en Die Antwoorde is weer helde van die renegate en afvalliges want hul spreek na kwessies soos vertroue aan God, konformisme aan die Afrikaner kultuur en isolasie van die buitewereld.
Hierdie generasie van ons jongmense is seker die belangrikste sedert die Voortrekkers, al weet ons dit nie. Dit gaan in ons hande wees of ons die Afrikaner nasie oor 100 jaar slegs in die anale van geskiedenis kan opspoor, omdat ons heeltemal geassimileer het met die globale kultuur, of dat jy nog die bittereinders gaan vind daar in Orania, afsgesluit van die wereld.
Dit is in ons hande om ons kultuur die 21ste eeu in te neem; om 'n fyn balans te tref tussen tradisie en verandering.
Kom ons sien waarna it als na gaan lei
DieAlleenige
Sunday, 19 July 2015
Loneliness
I think is only slightly ironic that the word lonely appears in the title of this blog, but it took me nearly a year and a half to finally say something about this overhanging problem.
The original intent of the lonely in the title of this blog was that in January 2013 I had gone through a tumultuous 2013 where I left the comfort of high school and my adopted hometown, Paarl, where I was respected and loved. I entered the New World for the very first time with no one there from the life I had lived prior to that point. It was only then, mid the newness, that I realized how socially isolated I was.
I have never publicly admitted this before, but part of the reason for my insatiable drive to be the best in the world in athletics was that I knew people would interact with me and that I would "gain love and respect" this way. To be frank, that still is part of the reason for my drive to be the best in my sport. Numerous factors (which will be too much for one blog to dive into) created a perfect storm where the appeal of fame and the respect and love associated with living a publicly significant life became a very appealing position for me to be in. For some reason, this idea rests in my being that unless I am significant in many peoples eyes then I am a failure. I know being externally motivated is not per se the best way to approach success, life and sport, but it would be wrong to not admit that I am motivated why the social aspects of sporting glory. Maybe that's why the prevailing feeling in my heart, the feeling of shame, ruled in my heart after my less-than-perfect debut at Nationals a month ago.
Going back to the point on loneliness in a new part in my life in America, when you go somewhere where no one knows you, your hard-sought for reputation might just as well never have existed. I actually needed to reach out to other peoples lives for the first time. Too bad I didn't do that in the beginning of my American odyssey. I didn't admit it, but I was very alone and obviously not admitting to a problem makes it nigh impossible to ever solve it. However, after the efforts of my parents, I committed to change this loneliness since June 2013. I have come so so far, but am still far away from being liberated from social isolation.
I now have friends and teammates at South Alabama that have become so important to me. I actually recall a moment from the Spring semester where one friend asked me at the lunch table at the caf where I would want to be right now if I could be anywhere in the world. It might have seemed cheesy or insincere but I said that I wanted to be nowhere else in the world. Just prior to the question being asked of me I remember thinking, "Wow, I am so content right now. My lunch table was surrounded by people I care for and respect and I am sure the think the same of me." I thought the same during my birthday party last semester where 21 friends and teammates celebrated my 21st at Buffalo Wild Wings. It's interesting, ever singe semester at South Alabama has been better than the one that preceded it. Every semester I ask God how He can keep these blessings on coming - when will this end? I couldn't go on forever? I just feel so blessed.
The thing is, this summer semester has been quite lonely. Almost all my people are out of town during these hot, stormy months. I often find myself resorting to solitary video games or YouTube videos to fill the hole left in my time that used to be spent around the cafeteria table sharing in memories with the people of South. I guess my social ability has regressed somewhat in the past two months because I spend most of my time hoping for and dreaming of August when everybody will be back.
To finish off proceedings I must say that it is only in these moments of separation from my people that I realise that I am not lonely anymore. That's a seemingly contradictory statement, as I am now literally alone, but I describe myself as not so. For the first time in my life (well, maybe not the first time, but we humans have a bias towards the present) I desire to with people. I always denied this within me; the seeds of being a citizen of an overly individualistic culture left me with fully blossomed disconnect from other humans. We humans are made for interaction, for other people, to cherish and to share with others, but modern day extreme individualism has told us that you don't need others. Man is the measure of all things, not men, apparently. Though this summer has helped me to start the breaking free process from the destructive asocial ideal of Western culture. I DO miss my family back home, I DO miss my friends, teammates and the familiarity of seeing known faces as I bike across campus. My atonement from Social Anxiety Disorder has reached a new mile marker - I now truly know that I am made for others and that without others there is not much to my existence except survival. Where we not made to thrive instead of survive?
Longingly
TheLonelyman
The original intent of the lonely in the title of this blog was that in January 2013 I had gone through a tumultuous 2013 where I left the comfort of high school and my adopted hometown, Paarl, where I was respected and loved. I entered the New World for the very first time with no one there from the life I had lived prior to that point. It was only then, mid the newness, that I realized how socially isolated I was.
I have never publicly admitted this before, but part of the reason for my insatiable drive to be the best in the world in athletics was that I knew people would interact with me and that I would "gain love and respect" this way. To be frank, that still is part of the reason for my drive to be the best in my sport. Numerous factors (which will be too much for one blog to dive into) created a perfect storm where the appeal of fame and the respect and love associated with living a publicly significant life became a very appealing position for me to be in. For some reason, this idea rests in my being that unless I am significant in many peoples eyes then I am a failure. I know being externally motivated is not per se the best way to approach success, life and sport, but it would be wrong to not admit that I am motivated why the social aspects of sporting glory. Maybe that's why the prevailing feeling in my heart, the feeling of shame, ruled in my heart after my less-than-perfect debut at Nationals a month ago.
Going back to the point on loneliness in a new part in my life in America, when you go somewhere where no one knows you, your hard-sought for reputation might just as well never have existed. I actually needed to reach out to other peoples lives for the first time. Too bad I didn't do that in the beginning of my American odyssey. I didn't admit it, but I was very alone and obviously not admitting to a problem makes it nigh impossible to ever solve it. However, after the efforts of my parents, I committed to change this loneliness since June 2013. I have come so so far, but am still far away from being liberated from social isolation.
I now have friends and teammates at South Alabama that have become so important to me. I actually recall a moment from the Spring semester where one friend asked me at the lunch table at the caf where I would want to be right now if I could be anywhere in the world. It might have seemed cheesy or insincere but I said that I wanted to be nowhere else in the world. Just prior to the question being asked of me I remember thinking, "Wow, I am so content right now. My lunch table was surrounded by people I care for and respect and I am sure the think the same of me." I thought the same during my birthday party last semester where 21 friends and teammates celebrated my 21st at Buffalo Wild Wings. It's interesting, ever singe semester at South Alabama has been better than the one that preceded it. Every semester I ask God how He can keep these blessings on coming - when will this end? I couldn't go on forever? I just feel so blessed.
The thing is, this summer semester has been quite lonely. Almost all my people are out of town during these hot, stormy months. I often find myself resorting to solitary video games or YouTube videos to fill the hole left in my time that used to be spent around the cafeteria table sharing in memories with the people of South. I guess my social ability has regressed somewhat in the past two months because I spend most of my time hoping for and dreaming of August when everybody will be back.
To finish off proceedings I must say that it is only in these moments of separation from my people that I realise that I am not lonely anymore. That's a seemingly contradictory statement, as I am now literally alone, but I describe myself as not so. For the first time in my life (well, maybe not the first time, but we humans have a bias towards the present) I desire to with people. I always denied this within me; the seeds of being a citizen of an overly individualistic culture left me with fully blossomed disconnect from other humans. We humans are made for interaction, for other people, to cherish and to share with others, but modern day extreme individualism has told us that you don't need others. Man is the measure of all things, not men, apparently. Though this summer has helped me to start the breaking free process from the destructive asocial ideal of Western culture. I DO miss my family back home, I DO miss my friends, teammates and the familiarity of seeing known faces as I bike across campus. My atonement from Social Anxiety Disorder has reached a new mile marker - I now truly know that I am made for others and that without others there is not much to my existence except survival. Where we not made to thrive instead of survive?
Longingly
TheLonelyman
Friday, 12 June 2015
Hello Darkness, My Old Friend
I write now mere hours after finishing in an abysmal 20th place at the NCAA Outdoor Track and Field Championships in Eugene, Oregon in the discus throw having been ranked 8th or 9th. I had my third shortest meet of the year and it's really tough to deal with all the negativity in my head right now. In fact, I have developed quite the headache.
Let me go on a good old ramble because this is probably the thing I need most right now. This was my 3rd major sub-par meet in my life. I came 5th at the IAAF World Youth Championships in 2011, having been ranked 2nd. I finished 15th at the IAAF World Junior Championships in 2012, having been ranked 8th. And now today, my lowest ever position on any level in any discus competition. My previous worst was that 15th from 2012. I have received gut punch after gut punch at the major meets. The worst part was that I trained so well on Tuesday at Hayward Field. If I had one of those throws today, it would have been much different. Yet, that's not how life and sport work. There is no prize for winning training sessions. Unless your effort is displayed on the big screen and in terms of medals about your neck, there is no glory. This is a terribly hard thing about athletics. You can fixate yourself on something for years (9 and a half for me) and then seem like a fricken noob on competition day. After my performance today, you wouldn't think that I actually had a really good season so far with many breakthroughs and firsts. Yet the pain of inadequacy and under-performance looms awfully large. It was embarrassing to be on the field today after my third and final attempt. The 11 000 people in the stands must have wondered what this effeminate guy was trying to do - competing with men? Bah!
I now, more fully, understand the pain of higher level sport. Man oh man, I now feel so deeply for the Brazil footballers after bowing out to Germany in the World Cup semis (does 7-1 ring a bell?). I remember sitting in a tent right after the discus - gruesome thoughts were mulling through my seared mind. I was doubting my worth as an athlete and actually as a human. I already struggle with a brittle self-esteem because of negative thought patterns (such as an inferiority complex) I have had for many years. Believe me, I am fighting these ancient negative thought patterns very hard and I have made great strides but losses such as today only seem to scratch open old painful wounds. I guess, I still have much work to do (to overcome these old demons) because the man who thinks he can and the man who thinks he can't are both right. It's all in my hands but there are still times when the ancient titans are too strong for the contemporary heroes. That's one thing I have learned about neurosis and mental struggles - you never truly eradicate them from your history. You only better learn to tie them down and inoculate them before they can attack. If you let your guard down for just a tad too long, the neurosis is back in it's full evil glory, but this time with a fervent determination to make up for lost time. My biggest battle has always been with self-esteem (most prominently social self-esteem) and to a lesser extent self-worth. So, until the end of time I will have to teach myself to consider myself worthy of another person's time and, maybe one day, know that I am worthy of another's life. Yet, that future Avalon/Valhalla/Sovngard/Utopia/Paradise is still a distant one for me.
I join the ranks of The Fallen once more. Once more I am subject to the annals of history where... no, wait there are no records kept of The Fallen. The moment they depart us from this Good Earth they are made a distant memory, slowly disappearing from history as the rememberers are sent into the abyss themselves. Ere the midnight strike, we are but gone from even being a byword for the greatest historians. We are lost. Gone. Forsaken from time. Such is the story of failure. Such are the struggles of not achieving. Such and so are the days of our lives. The feast and the famine. The light and the dark. The victor and the vanquished. The Yin and the Yang. The life and the death. Ashes to ashes we flow as leaves tossed to and fro in the perpetual winds of time - only to be brought hence by fate and chance.
If it is fate and chance, then this must be our destiny? Or maybe we tell ourselves this is our destiny so that we do not have to more truly accept the horror of reality? Reality bears an inconvenient truth that can topple empires and annihilate nations, but those who embrace it are deemed free. For the truth will set you free, but never was it said that the truth will cast you in the everlasting lake of bliss. Nay, the truth only lets the veil over our eyes be cleaved asunder and allows us to breathe, to look, to hear, to smell, to taste, to love, to hate and to experience more fully, more authentically. As someone who appreciates authenticity more than almost anything in this life - it's a blissful death. It's beautiful to die consumed in the reality. To know that you finally know beyond any doubt.
Yet, I cannot say that I know, but I will suppose for now is that this Shadow that has encompassed me round about can maybe mean something to you. Maybe my lamentations of my life and the honesty whereby I make these innards so public to the world might make you realize that there is another who struggles - just like you. I feel the depth of the field of the pain, both in the emotional and physical realm, of yours.
I must take a moment to say sorry. As I said in my most recent post on Facebook, this may be an individual sport, but without other people it would be pointless. I am sorry for building up your hopes and then fail thereupon. I am sorry I had to take away all the time and money that was spent on taking me to this meet away from someone else who might have done far greater things. I am sorry for everybody who has to read to this and be saddened. I am sorry for all those who will attempt to console me. I am sorry for taking your time. Most of all I am sorry to my parents. Anders as myself, het ek sekerlik vir julle die meeste teleurgestel. Ek wens ek kan net een dag vir 'n slag met oorwinning huis toe kom sodat ek darem kan probeer om vir al jul opofferings iets terug te bring. Die NCAA trofee sou vir julle wees, maar helaas.
However, know also that this train ain't stoppin'. We may have returned this campaign dead on our shield back to our abode, but that is only the physical body. The mind and the soul still lives on. It may be that the flame of this soul that has burned so bright and hot before has lost some of it's Kelvin and Lux, but I am here and I still live. For now, the catharsis and lamentations will run their course, but the flame of this revolution will not be stilled so easily. Get thee hence, Satan, for I know my God has given me the strength to overcome this. And so I shall, that maybe if the only mark I left upon this world would be that I kept going, I never surrendered, I never lost the war and most of all, that I ran (threw?) the race until the very finish line - not an inkling before, but certainly anything beyond; albeit I receive no reward at the end of it, as long as it bodes well for the End of All Days. Onward, to a new dawn, however long this night may still be; this shadow is only a passing thing - for our day will come.
From The Fallen
TheLonelyman
Let me go on a good old ramble because this is probably the thing I need most right now. This was my 3rd major sub-par meet in my life. I came 5th at the IAAF World Youth Championships in 2011, having been ranked 2nd. I finished 15th at the IAAF World Junior Championships in 2012, having been ranked 8th. And now today, my lowest ever position on any level in any discus competition. My previous worst was that 15th from 2012. I have received gut punch after gut punch at the major meets. The worst part was that I trained so well on Tuesday at Hayward Field. If I had one of those throws today, it would have been much different. Yet, that's not how life and sport work. There is no prize for winning training sessions. Unless your effort is displayed on the big screen and in terms of medals about your neck, there is no glory. This is a terribly hard thing about athletics. You can fixate yourself on something for years (9 and a half for me) and then seem like a fricken noob on competition day. After my performance today, you wouldn't think that I actually had a really good season so far with many breakthroughs and firsts. Yet the pain of inadequacy and under-performance looms awfully large. It was embarrassing to be on the field today after my third and final attempt. The 11 000 people in the stands must have wondered what this effeminate guy was trying to do - competing with men? Bah!
I now, more fully, understand the pain of higher level sport. Man oh man, I now feel so deeply for the Brazil footballers after bowing out to Germany in the World Cup semis (does 7-1 ring a bell?). I remember sitting in a tent right after the discus - gruesome thoughts were mulling through my seared mind. I was doubting my worth as an athlete and actually as a human. I already struggle with a brittle self-esteem because of negative thought patterns (such as an inferiority complex) I have had for many years. Believe me, I am fighting these ancient negative thought patterns very hard and I have made great strides but losses such as today only seem to scratch open old painful wounds. I guess, I still have much work to do (to overcome these old demons) because the man who thinks he can and the man who thinks he can't are both right. It's all in my hands but there are still times when the ancient titans are too strong for the contemporary heroes. That's one thing I have learned about neurosis and mental struggles - you never truly eradicate them from your history. You only better learn to tie them down and inoculate them before they can attack. If you let your guard down for just a tad too long, the neurosis is back in it's full evil glory, but this time with a fervent determination to make up for lost time. My biggest battle has always been with self-esteem (most prominently social self-esteem) and to a lesser extent self-worth. So, until the end of time I will have to teach myself to consider myself worthy of another person's time and, maybe one day, know that I am worthy of another's life. Yet, that future Avalon/Valhalla/Sovngard/Utopia/Paradise is still a distant one for me.
I join the ranks of The Fallen once more. Once more I am subject to the annals of history where... no, wait there are no records kept of The Fallen. The moment they depart us from this Good Earth they are made a distant memory, slowly disappearing from history as the rememberers are sent into the abyss themselves. Ere the midnight strike, we are but gone from even being a byword for the greatest historians. We are lost. Gone. Forsaken from time. Such is the story of failure. Such are the struggles of not achieving. Such and so are the days of our lives. The feast and the famine. The light and the dark. The victor and the vanquished. The Yin and the Yang. The life and the death. Ashes to ashes we flow as leaves tossed to and fro in the perpetual winds of time - only to be brought hence by fate and chance.
If it is fate and chance, then this must be our destiny? Or maybe we tell ourselves this is our destiny so that we do not have to more truly accept the horror of reality? Reality bears an inconvenient truth that can topple empires and annihilate nations, but those who embrace it are deemed free. For the truth will set you free, but never was it said that the truth will cast you in the everlasting lake of bliss. Nay, the truth only lets the veil over our eyes be cleaved asunder and allows us to breathe, to look, to hear, to smell, to taste, to love, to hate and to experience more fully, more authentically. As someone who appreciates authenticity more than almost anything in this life - it's a blissful death. It's beautiful to die consumed in the reality. To know that you finally know beyond any doubt.
Yet, I cannot say that I know, but I will suppose for now is that this Shadow that has encompassed me round about can maybe mean something to you. Maybe my lamentations of my life and the honesty whereby I make these innards so public to the world might make you realize that there is another who struggles - just like you. I feel the depth of the field of the pain, both in the emotional and physical realm, of yours.
I must take a moment to say sorry. As I said in my most recent post on Facebook, this may be an individual sport, but without other people it would be pointless. I am sorry for building up your hopes and then fail thereupon. I am sorry I had to take away all the time and money that was spent on taking me to this meet away from someone else who might have done far greater things. I am sorry for everybody who has to read to this and be saddened. I am sorry for all those who will attempt to console me. I am sorry for taking your time. Most of all I am sorry to my parents. Anders as myself, het ek sekerlik vir julle die meeste teleurgestel. Ek wens ek kan net een dag vir 'n slag met oorwinning huis toe kom sodat ek darem kan probeer om vir al jul opofferings iets terug te bring. Die NCAA trofee sou vir julle wees, maar helaas.
However, know also that this train ain't stoppin'. We may have returned this campaign dead on our shield back to our abode, but that is only the physical body. The mind and the soul still lives on. It may be that the flame of this soul that has burned so bright and hot before has lost some of it's Kelvin and Lux, but I am here and I still live. For now, the catharsis and lamentations will run their course, but the flame of this revolution will not be stilled so easily. Get thee hence, Satan, for I know my God has given me the strength to overcome this. And so I shall, that maybe if the only mark I left upon this world would be that I kept going, I never surrendered, I never lost the war and most of all, that I ran (threw?) the race until the very finish line - not an inkling before, but certainly anything beyond; albeit I receive no reward at the end of it, as long as it bodes well for the End of All Days. Onward, to a new dawn, however long this night may still be; this shadow is only a passing thing - for our day will come.
From The Fallen
TheLonelyman
Monday, 25 May 2015
Between Two Worlds; The Struggle of a Foreigner Growing Away From Home
There is one major problem with that awkward period between the end of Spring semester and the start of Summer school, one has far too much time at hand. Normally, I do some quick scrolls through Facebook, Twitter and Instagram during the semester, but when you have no classes and not too many commitments to attend do, you find yourself extending those quick scrolls to deep, lengthy analysis of the lives of others who appear on your timeline. Yet, no paper is published, no peer discussion groups are started, instead, all of the study builds up in one's head. The twisting kaleidoscope of thoughts, information, feelings and memories evoke a full spectrum of emotion. Old enemies are doing well and you feel terrible for not going for alliance instead of steely relations. Old flames transcend the fears you had of them, making you doubt why you decided to extinguish that flame in the first place. Some are still stuck in the emerging adulthood limbo of finding a way in this life. Some are sporting shiny rings on the fingers and others a shiny new four wheel toy to show of their mastery of worshipping the capitalist Empire.
I am a great lover of Facebook, it has allowed me to gain access to entire new worlds which I ne'er would have found myself in. Indeed, I am now in that world which previously was only something I could live vicariously through the shiny faces on the television. Being in this new world of America has removed me from the my native world - South Africa. I look through the pictures and videos and see how I miss out on the struggles and triumphs of my culture and my people.
The murder of farmers is a big ol' problem in my country. Thousands have been killed since rebirth of '94. Yet, recently a movie has been made to highlight and bring together all sides of the divide - the killers and the killed. I can only imagine how this movie will swoop farm murders into the foreground of national discourse in my beloved nation. Maybe this will improve things? I won't be there to see it. I will be living vicariously through the lives of Facebook friends who are on the forefront of the struggle and some even in the backseat of the struggle.
I see how young adults of my age in South Africa start to reach the Spring of their lives. The young women have reached the zenith of beauty, which, as we know too well, only cascades downwards from hence (even though I personally find the height of a woman's beauty to be in the mid to late thirties). The bad boys from school are finding their way in this life - realizing that their rebellion was merely a yearning for the discovery of their higher purpose which the identity moratorium (as we like to call it in Psychology) of the teenage years finally has brought them too. They are now ready to engage with the true manhood which is ambition, drive and passion.
Part of being a human and being part of a culture or a nation is that you get to share in it's highlights and lowlights. I can boast about my people having caused the British their most costly war since Napoleon one hundred years ago, but I must also hang my head in the shame to the fact that we only ended Apartheid 21 years ago and woefully suppressed a people - which is biting us right in the ass now. Our struggle nowadays is towards reconciliation and solidarity. I sit here in America and look onwards as the people who have been left behind try and fight this fight. If all goes well and we can truly unify our country, I cannot tell my children that I was part of this struggle. I was away, frolicking overseas, trying to get an education and experience some of the New World.
It's sad that I lose my part in the evolution of my culture. I can only support artists, musicians and filmmakers from 13 000kms away. Maybe that gives me the chance to spread the ideals, hopes and dreams of my people to a far removed place. Maybe that's why I am on these yonder shores.
Though, I can say it is not all bad. As you slowly feel your own people and culture slip from your identity, you have the need to replace that all with something new. So, I place America in my mindset and make that part of my identity. I learn about the struggles the common man faces here. I learn what concerns them, I learn what it is like to be them, I learn what makes them happy. By immersing yourself so fully in the culture and lives of others, you cannot help but feel that you become part of them. As each year ticks by, I feel myself more concerned and closer to the matters of the United States. Of course, the matters of home is still within me, but my personal experience of the happenings of my own people becomes ever more outdated with the passage of time.
Eventually the stories of the those around you become more important than those who were around you. You find yourself in a tension of opposites - the past, the culture you left behind and how it formed you and then the present, the possible future and how the present culture is challenging and changing you. The question is how to you act in the midst of this tension filled environment? Do I let go and let the concerns and ideas of the now absorb me and make me one of its own, or do I hold tight to tension that binds me to the past and it's reflected glory?
As ever, the answer is probably answerable by the Greeks. "Nothing in excess." the timeless maxim sounds out from Athens' ageless stones. Appreciate the formative power of the yesteryears, but envelop yourself in the new culture as well.
As for me though, I am still more bound to home than not, but, no doubt, I can feel the tension drawing me back thence weaken by the year. Where will the Great Decider take me?
Only his greatest equalizer could tell me - time.
Carry on, my wayward son
TheLonelyman
I am a great lover of Facebook, it has allowed me to gain access to entire new worlds which I ne'er would have found myself in. Indeed, I am now in that world which previously was only something I could live vicariously through the shiny faces on the television. Being in this new world of America has removed me from the my native world - South Africa. I look through the pictures and videos and see how I miss out on the struggles and triumphs of my culture and my people.
The murder of farmers is a big ol' problem in my country. Thousands have been killed since rebirth of '94. Yet, recently a movie has been made to highlight and bring together all sides of the divide - the killers and the killed. I can only imagine how this movie will swoop farm murders into the foreground of national discourse in my beloved nation. Maybe this will improve things? I won't be there to see it. I will be living vicariously through the lives of Facebook friends who are on the forefront of the struggle and some even in the backseat of the struggle.
I see how young adults of my age in South Africa start to reach the Spring of their lives. The young women have reached the zenith of beauty, which, as we know too well, only cascades downwards from hence (even though I personally find the height of a woman's beauty to be in the mid to late thirties). The bad boys from school are finding their way in this life - realizing that their rebellion was merely a yearning for the discovery of their higher purpose which the identity moratorium (as we like to call it in Psychology) of the teenage years finally has brought them too. They are now ready to engage with the true manhood which is ambition, drive and passion.
Part of being a human and being part of a culture or a nation is that you get to share in it's highlights and lowlights. I can boast about my people having caused the British their most costly war since Napoleon one hundred years ago, but I must also hang my head in the shame to the fact that we only ended Apartheid 21 years ago and woefully suppressed a people - which is biting us right in the ass now. Our struggle nowadays is towards reconciliation and solidarity. I sit here in America and look onwards as the people who have been left behind try and fight this fight. If all goes well and we can truly unify our country, I cannot tell my children that I was part of this struggle. I was away, frolicking overseas, trying to get an education and experience some of the New World.
It's sad that I lose my part in the evolution of my culture. I can only support artists, musicians and filmmakers from 13 000kms away. Maybe that gives me the chance to spread the ideals, hopes and dreams of my people to a far removed place. Maybe that's why I am on these yonder shores.
Though, I can say it is not all bad. As you slowly feel your own people and culture slip from your identity, you have the need to replace that all with something new. So, I place America in my mindset and make that part of my identity. I learn about the struggles the common man faces here. I learn what concerns them, I learn what it is like to be them, I learn what makes them happy. By immersing yourself so fully in the culture and lives of others, you cannot help but feel that you become part of them. As each year ticks by, I feel myself more concerned and closer to the matters of the United States. Of course, the matters of home is still within me, but my personal experience of the happenings of my own people becomes ever more outdated with the passage of time.
Eventually the stories of the those around you become more important than those who were around you. You find yourself in a tension of opposites - the past, the culture you left behind and how it formed you and then the present, the possible future and how the present culture is challenging and changing you. The question is how to you act in the midst of this tension filled environment? Do I let go and let the concerns and ideas of the now absorb me and make me one of its own, or do I hold tight to tension that binds me to the past and it's reflected glory?
As ever, the answer is probably answerable by the Greeks. "Nothing in excess." the timeless maxim sounds out from Athens' ageless stones. Appreciate the formative power of the yesteryears, but envelop yourself in the new culture as well.
As for me though, I am still more bound to home than not, but, no doubt, I can feel the tension drawing me back thence weaken by the year. Where will the Great Decider take me?
Only his greatest equalizer could tell me - time.
Carry on, my wayward son
TheLonelyman
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)