slip-sliding away…..

January along the coast, in a holiday paradise. Long drives and soaking in the lazy days of Summer, mesmerised by the wild ocean, and realising that these family vacations in this season – taken for granted all these years – will soon become a hallmark of a past we can never reclaim, as kids become adults, and fragmentation further erodes the once-airtight core. Noble intentions for a new year, hoping to carry the spirit of disconnection and minimalism into a fresh start, knowing that challenges ahead could derail me at any time. But we don’t control the future. All we can do is try to stick to our intentions.

In February, I submitted a piece to a poetry prize competition, as well as a full manuscript to a publisher – my first time doing so – believing I wouldn’t succeed, but hoping they might just take it. At the same time, I worked on printing and marketing a Gaza-centred anthology – raising awareness and funds for the then-paused genocide which had become the permanent background of our lives in the wider, rapidly-degenerating outside world. I entered, more fully, the poetry community I’d been somewhat attached to for years before, submerging into what would become a year-long journey of deepening my craft.

March brought the fullness and fatigue of Ramadaan in Summer, but with an extra special achievement in a near-total abstention from sweet things. That willpower would later erode, but at least I have proof of my potential to deny what’s been a life-long addiction to all things sugary. Spiritual rejuvenation and reflection were welcome companions through the month, and I managed to crank out what seems to be a didactic poem – the first poem I’ve ever written which came not from emotion / inspiration, but rather from a desire to encapsulate lessons and advice which would otherwise have gone into an essay that would’ve felt boringly flat.

April brought heavy sadness, as apocalyptic scenes from the genocide reached us, and I wondered how long this madness could continue unabated. Autumn rain arrived, my sweet addiction gradually came back, and I marveled at the beauty of my university campus and the views it gave, grateful that I get to work and walk there, more than 20 years after I graduated. I attended a wonderful event, and unexpectedly won a prize – walking up stairs to a stage to receive it from an esteemed scholar, in front of 4000 people – none of them knowing that I was trying really hard to not trip on my untied laces. I also learnt a lesson to embrace optimism and opportunities first, and leave my natural tendency for constraints and negatives until later.

In May, a 24-hour holiday brought some bitter truths and reminders home to me, while at work, I interviewed a colleague for what would become a well-received feature story published months later…a chance to get back to a sort of writing I really enjoy, but don’t do much anymore, opening up the door to more of the same in future. I swam in memories, struggled with finances, found neurodiverse resonance in a sitcom, and visited the dentist for the first time in years. I attended a civic society talk, realising that we, the people, will not win against our municipal government’s racist policies dressed up as progress, on the same night that my once-beloved football team, predictably, broke hearts again with a poor loss in a cup final.

My favourite season – Winter – came in June, but I couldn’t truly enjoy it, as work, kids’ schoolwork, life admin, car trouble, and the added burden of housework (due to ongoing troubles with the lady we employed to help us) pressed heavily on me, adding to ongoing health issues which just wouldn’t clear up. I felt like I was being eaten alive, but the days of Hajj allowed some room for stepping out of the furnace and reflecting. I bumped into an old boss and reflected on how his then-heartbreaking decision not to keep me (beyond an internship) turned out well for me, opening the path to a career far more fulfilling and suited to my strengths rather than the corporate environments I would have remained stuck in (which I despised even before I started work). I fell deeper into creative expanse, but bumped up against the reality of losing inspiration when ‘normal’ life overwhelmed any feasible space to indulge that side of me like I wanted.

In July, my eldest had a minor operation, and she also suggested a very simple solution to help my sense of overwhelm…something I was too blind to see in the midst of all the chaos. My phone’s manufacturer sent out a battery issue notice and subsequently forced a degraded battery experience, which irked me because I planned to keep it at least 2 more years, and I live in a country where there’s no support for the replacement programme they offered. Government admin incompetence added to the mess (it would extend months into the future, too), while the financial tightrope still weighed heavily, though an unexpected boost arrived which helped a lot. I lived in my head a lot, and let it out onto the page, diagnosing the problems and recording the solutions – though I didn’t know if I would be able to take that medicine. Still, getting it all out in writing is better than letting it fester.

In August, my body’s war with me came to a head, and I finally went to the doctor, after months of self-medication which eventually failed. I worried about having cancer (which was very possible with the issue I had), and pondered death at age 44, preparing a letter to my family which would be delivered if I died in the surgery I needed to have. The specialist amused me, though. I know my mannerisms often make things awkward, but his presumptions about my anxiety, and his attempts at comforting me were comical. Still, I appreciated his efforts, and was relieved when the surgery confirmed no sign of cancer. Recovery was painful and frustrating (I wrote a brutal poem about it which I won’t share publicly), but also beautiful in that it gave me a 2-week break from work at a time when I really needed an escape. Among other joys, I discovered the joys of reading and dozing off in a hammock, basking in the sunlight on an otherwise cold day. Winter had effectively ended much earlier (in early July), but Spring was making its way more fully at this time, adding to the sense of renewal and calm I felt within.

A dream in September took me back to my childhood home, while in more mundane matters, the birds declared war on our washing – leaving ample little gifts, usually on my clothes (as opposed to the others). I walked my old neighbourhood with my kids, peeking into the now-abandoned rugby stadium which brought joy and pain to many thousands over its 130 year history. It was a full circle moment adventure, as I recalled my runs and walks in the area 25 years prior, and now having the opportunity to share that with my own kids. I hope they’ll remember these little moments when I’m gone. I think they will, because – like me – they are highly given to nostalgia and sentimentality. Memories fueled an unexpected new poem about personal sanctuaries, while a generative workshop pushed me to finally put into verse a concept that had caught my heart 14 years prior (though I haven’t published it yet). I also thought about the artistry of music – the poetry of lyrics of particular songs, and the human experiences they so succinctly capture. This year, I’ve pondered a lot on ‘art’ vs ‘entertainment’ and the true value of each.

October brought another 24-hour holiday, and a work-related visit into the depths (and heights) of a theatre complex I’ve not visited enough. I appreciated, once more, how working at a university allows me to interact with so many different types of people, working in all fields, with such diverse interests. I finally saw someone messier than me, with his work-related paperwork forming mountains all over his office. I haven’t been able to deal with my own cupboard and office messes at home for three years, but seing this man’s environment showed me how much worse it can get. Out in public, I spoke to three people out of the blue – including an old German runner who dropped a gem of wisdom on me which, perhaps, could guide later decisions in life.

November was a flurry of research, planning, and admin for a hastily-arranged holiday which I, quite frankly, did not want to go ahead with on such short notice. The aforementioned government incompetency (to do with a passport) had seemingly killed the opportunity – or at least delayed it for a year – but this month, a decision was made (not by me) to go full steam ahead. This led to a day visit to a quaint little town, whose old world feel I fell in love with – though I probably preferred to just observe from the outside, rather than stay there. There were more future memories, as the kids subjected their beloved teddy bears to a play fight to the closing song of ‘Kung Fu Panda’, reminding me of the hype I felt as a child after seeing the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. I went for an early morning run – my first for years – promising I’d try to do it again more often. The days lengthened, giving a preview into the Summer months which are always brutally tiring for me. I went for a fundraising run – running the longest I’ve ever done, then walking the whole way back because I’d over-estimated my energy-deprived body’s ability. Still, it was a beautiful walk along the coastline.

For many, December is a time of winding down – both at home and at work. But for me, things have ramped up on both fronts. I still laugh at my manager’s use of the phrase “quiet period” for these last few weeks, because each year, it feels like work intensifies for me at year-end. The travel-related work is also a monster, as is normal life admin – all of which have contributed to a rather intense year-end. I keep plodding along, doing what I need to, just hoping that by the time we leave for this holiday, I’ll be able to rest – mentally, at least. My mind has been over-active all year, driven by everything that’s gone on. And even though this trip will add more, my hope is that the change of environment and the adventures will be a welcome change. A break from all the usual thoughts and burdens which weigh me down. The last few weeks, though, have given me opportunities for more focus and quiet, in that I can finally leave home to work in my old office most days. The building is empty, and even though there’s lots of work (on multiple fronts), just being alone – without the sounds of TV shows and fun-loving kids (I often remind them to enjoy this time, because childhood Summers are the best, most care-free holidays of their lives), and the endless stream of tasks and responsibilities that come with being at home – is a balm to my overcrowded mind.

So, finally, as I head off (my last working day of the year over a few hours ago), I look back on what’s been a very full, very challenging, but very enriching year. Alhamdullilah – I’m grateful to God for bringing me through it all, and allowing me the growth that it’s brought – whether I’ve recognised those changes or not. I’m not listening to those who – at this time of year – roll out advice about new year’s resolutions and fresh start planning, because I just want to sit with the sense of having completed this year. Working all the way to the end (well, almost the end) of year doesn’t give one the rest and downtime that affords one the opportunity to recuperate and think about plans for the next one.

And that’s totally fine with me.

I still dream that one day, sooner or later, I will experience a Summer holiday where I can actually just sit and do nothing. Totally relax and recover from the year that preceded.

But that’s not where I am in life, and I don’t complain, because I am far more privileged than most. All I can do is be grateful, try to experience life fully, and do my best to bring balance to the future that awaits.

Thank you for reading this far, and I wish you a wonderful, joyful, and peaceful holiday season.

Yacoob