The Art of Beginning

"Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life." (Seneca)

I’ve always longed for a simple life - perhaps because of how and where I grew up. Cape Agulhas, back in my childhood, was just a quaint seaside village. In 1969, outside of the summer holidays, only nine families lived there. There was no electricity. No running water from the taps. Only cobblestone roads that hummed with stories of the sea.

There was the lighthouse - still standing tall today - warning ships of a coastline that could turn violent, hiding its sharp, unforgiving rocks. There was the sun. And the moon. I had books. I had music. I had a Brownie box camera, and I used it to capture the sun, the moon, and the wild-hearted sea.

I needed nothing more. I was more than happy.
And I think that’s why Ireland touched my soul so deeply. The simplicity. The stillness. The slow rhythm of life. My soul has always understood the profound power of simplicity.

Epictetus said it best:
"Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants."

Yesterday began with me and a basal cell carcinoma - a stubborn sore that refused to heal for nearly a decade. And the day ended with me without it. It was cut out. Surgically removed.

By the time evening fell, I felt like a different person. Lighter. As if the poison of all my yesterdays - everything heavy, everything unhealed - had been lifted. I felt clean. I felt new. As if the Universe, in its quiet wisdom, had handed me a blank page and said, “Here. Start again.”

Yesterday felt like a turning point.
It stripped away the harm, the hurt, the humiliations of the past ten years. And in their place, it gave me fresh eyes - eyes that see more clearly than ever before.

I have two weeks now to 're'discover this new version of me.
And I say ‘new’ in quotes because my soul is ancient.
She has walked through lifetimes.
She is ever-present. Unchanging.
What does change are the landscapes - where we sleep, where we dream, where we rise.

I have never been afraid to live.
I’ve known endings. I’ve stood in the smoke of my own ashes.
And I’ve taken flight, again and again.

But this time feels different.

This time, I know what I need to be happy. I need very little to be happy.
And I know that what I need is simple, but it must be fully present in my life. No more fragments. No more half-hearted days. I need the little that matters to be there, 100%.

And that’s where I begin anew - right here.

As my beloved Rumi reminds me:

"You were born with potential. You were born with goodness and trust.
You were born with ideals and dreams. You were born with greatness.
You were born with wings.
You are not meant for crawling, so don’t.
You have wings. Learn to use them- and fly!"

I am ready for takeoff.
Again.