As I mentioned in my previous post, change has reared its necessary yet still ugly head this year. I’ve landed in a new apartment that looks and feels transient, mainly of my own doing. I don’t intend to set roots or stay long; I consider it to be a launch pad for bigger, better, and much different things. But right now I miss my comfort zone — and all my now-stored-away prints and tchotchkes that make a place feel like home.
My mantra for this year was — and still is — “All Possibilities.” My mind is bubbling with ideas, and as I crawl out of the shock and grief and hassle of a forced move, I’m getting back on track with exploring a myriad of options. For myself. I haven’t focused on myself for years, since meeting Mtuseni. It’s high time for some “me” time.
Big change is on the horizon for Mtuseni as well. He’s decided to quit his job at the end of July so he can explore other paths. Or just find something else. This is risky and makes me nervous, given the dire condition of South Africa’s economy and employment scene. But his 11-hour days of work and commuting leave him no time or energy to network, take a class, or do anything that will produce change in his situation. He comes home at 7:00, makes dinner, then collapses into bed and wakes up at 5:00 to do it all again. The job is dull and doesn’t use any of his talents, and the company is dysfunctional and treats employees in ways that would never pass muster in the US. Some of Mtuseni’s stories about the management have shocked me.
He’s been dispirited and depressed all year, which breaks my heart. Despite all the challenges in his life, he’s always been optimistic and hopeful in general. But now he doesn’t talk about big dreams anymore. And he sleeps all the time, because he says he’s getting old. I told him 25-year-olds should have boundless energy, and we’ve talked about depression and some strategies to elevate his mood. He often refers to this stuff as “American psychological bullshit” — but going slow and easy with him, I think a lot of it sunk in. After all these years, I know that getting my stubborn boy to shift attitudes is like steering an aircraft carrier.
So it’s time for him to move on. He needed one year of employment on his resume after finishing college. He now has more than two. He saved a lot of money and got involved with a sketchy investment scheme through his church that I don’t ask too many questions about. The payout supposedly arrives any day now. So he has something to live on during the transition.
We talked last week about putting together a master plan to hit the ground running as soon as he quits. He said he wanted to catch up on sleep for the first month, and I put the kibosh on that immediately. With Mtuseni — and South Africa in general — urgency never seems to be paramount. In this situation, it damn well is.
I’ve done some research and put out some feelers in terms of classes and connections for him. If he can get a DJ slot at a community radio station even one shift a week, it will lift his mood immensely and make him feel like he’s back on the media path. Mtuseni’s “all possibilities” are less expansive than mine. But he also has less access to resources that can make any possibility a reality.
So here we go. Change! Mtuseni and I have each been languishing for some time now. It hasn’t been fun. But it feels like the tide is turning and our boats are about to rise. And as always, as my boat rises I’ll do everything in my power to lift him up as well. Because that little yellow polo shirt boy I met nine years ago had big dreams. I promised to help him get there, and I will never break that promise.