Constantly in transit, even when lying perfectly still, in the deepest sleep, immobile, just breathing. Wishing. Thinking. Ever imaging, a brighter tomorrow, greener pastures, and for better days ahead. It is by virtue of all these things that we are always in the process of something, within and through time. The present.
I often roll my eyes at fake deep, pseudo conscious intellectual artist types, the “gentle brother/sister” and bazalwanes who often times (Especially on social media) make their stances vividly clear, on some “Here and Now. Live in the present” blah blah blah. However, when one takes time to cut away all the fat and dust off the fluff. Our truest truth is Here. Now. And Self.
“Be kind to yourself”a tshomi of mine once said after I had unpacked for her what a hoax my attempt at realizing my imagined success was, how my 20s have been a series of “WOW REALLY?” And “KWENZEKA NTON KE NGOKU??” and most of all, what consumed me the most- how im not allowed articulate my struggles and how, like many people, I have been programmed to always paint a pretty picture. Never failing. Ndicela sithethe inyani guys, that shit is tough. It is heavy. And sometimes it hurts, hard.
Being black, middle/working class, living in a recently [not so recently] democratic South Africa comes with a lot of dreams that were sold to our parents, who later sold tose dreams to us. Most of my friends and I have parents who work very hard and encouraged us to work too because VIVA UHURU! Right? But there is nothing more heart aching than waiting patiently for the ends of a valiant battle and having the sun set on those dreams time and time again.
Dear Democracy, there are far too many of my brothers and sisters who work their asses off to pass matric just for them not to have a means of getting to varsity, let alone completing a course., there are far too many of us who are well studied and qualified at tertiary level just for us not to find decent work. There are far too many of us who settle for shitty jobs, because rent is due and life is happening, but don’t earn enough to live comfortably above the breadline. We have been guinea pigs of democracy, knowing it very well, from a place of Blackness. Maybe we’ll raise our children differently, having tasted this version of freedom, and understanding the power prayer and truth.
So im constantly having to edit the timeline I had planned out for myself when I was 18, I don’t have a companion to have and hold unconditionally, and exclusively, my six pack is still pending, and my bank account sertainly does not have enough zeros in it. Dear God, Uphi kanti?! Are not the ultimate Blesser? Uthuleleni? Where the fuck are You? Uthini ngam umntwanakho? Sound familiar? That desperate aching, vision clouded by fear and doubt. Its during these times (sometimes. Not often enough) I remember Here. Now. Because honestly, that’s all we have.
Here and now I am sitting on my beautiful four poster bed, sipping a delicious red wine, navigating my way through this text that you are now reading. Here and now I am strong because I know love from all the right energies. Here and now I embody a beauty organic, must be how my lox land so perfectly around my face, or the caramel glow of my skin. Here and now ndimhle shem… Here and now I am tuned in, happy. And that is everything.