To err is human, to forgive divine

A new year for me is usually a time of reflection, contemplation, and much planning. This is a ritual that begins somewhat in the previous year. During this time, I will have been going steadily to the gym, quitting bad habits — which usually come in human form — and earnestly pursuing my desires and goals. The new year arrives with a beautiful new energy that cannot be ignored.

In the past year, I walked with a sense of stepping into who I felt I wanted to be for the longest time. Slowly, I immersed myself in this new being — an artist with a narrative.

Of the many beautiful things that happened to me, the most interesting was being invited to headline a festival in the middle of the Limpopo River while accompanying a professor who spoke about the origins of the Vhavenda people and their migration further south. Anyone who has followed my journey will know how beautiful and meaningful that was to me and my identity.

It also marked the time I experienced my greatest loss, unexpectedly losing the person I loved the most. Death is a thief. It’s easier to lose someone to a breakup because at least we can watch them thrive, watch them go on with their lives and, though we may still wish to be part of their life, have a sense of assurance that they are there, somehow, and that, maybe, there is still a chance to make new memories. Losing the best love I had known, my best friend, my everything, to death, felt like my own death had confronted me, asking if I wanted to live or die. That broke my heart.

Grief held my hand a little too firmly with this loss. It became difficult to live, to see other people, and to have a sense of balance. Pursuing those goals I had set for the year began to seem impossible. Grief lied to me so much that I almost believed every single lie: that I wasn’t present enough, that I didn’t love enough, that I could have done more, that I had fallen short and let down this human being whom I loved so much. Grief had its way with me and, as its slave, I could not escape its grip on me, at least not at that time.

I had to consider deeply what gets to remain in the past and what tags along and, as regards loss and grief, I chose to live. Not by instinct nor strength, because God knows I had none. I chose to live by confronting the loss, which meant choosing myself in ways I had never imagined before. It meant a new level of radicalism I have neither seen nor experienced again.

This is also a time when I start extending a lot of forgiveness to myself, firstly for being here in this time and dimension and doing my best to survive. I start forgiving myself for unmet goals, unprioritised tasks, and for the moments I truly let myself down. There’s no self-forgiveness without self-acceptance. This becomes the moment when I accept that whatever progress I have made and whatever decision I have taken will set the tone and mood for my coming year. And while still on acceptance, it’s also a time of letting things be, with the proverbial serenity of acceptance and the wisdom of discernment.

And with that, I wish you a happy new year and a new season that, like this edition, is all about transformation and fresh beginnings. It’s about becoming better, letting go of disappointments, practising self-forgiveness and radical self-acceptance, and believing in oneself, in a new way — a way that’s brave and scary and, most importantly, a way that’s new. May the divine locate me, may all that is meant for me not miss me but find me ready and worthy and …

From the February edition of Wanted, 2025