The After, Illuminated

Ten years.
A decade.
A quarter of my life so far.

We celebrate decades, 20, 30, 40, 50. We celebrated 10, too (when double digits still felt monumental). Somewhere after sixteen we still count each year, but by twenty-three the enthusiasm tapers and we start marking time in tens.

So, my thirties, technically my fourth decade, was a decade of an entirely new way of life not only emotionally but environmentally, globally, and certainly mentally too. Now stepping into my fifth somehow makes me feel old(er) but yet younger. I will try to explain this. It has to do with renewed hope and purpose mostly. So even I’m already 41½ as I write this I need to first look back before I share what I am looking forward to.

I never made a big deal of 40. Or 30. I threw a massive 28th birthday party, though. One I’ll never forget. That was in the Before.

Those who have been widowed often refer to life this way: the Before and the After. The Before included the days when the sun rose, and then the After, these were days when we could not believe it still did, until we learned how to rise again with it.

The Before

Looking back, my 28th was full of champagne, loud music, a buffet spread, Guitar Hero, dress-up, and dancing until we were breathless, a life I feel that I lived in a dream. I threw a ‘Party Like a Rock Star’ to commemorate turning 28 even though Costa’s birthday was August 28 and mine May 30. A massive 30th would’ve made more sense. But something in me wanted to celebrate the turning of 28 — one of the best years of my life — with complete abandon. The number 28 has actually come to mean a whole lot more to me since, but that is a story for another time.

So there was me, in the Before.
Living fully with the love of my life.
Before creating new life.
Before losing life in more ways than one.

The After

I am now the Mondi of the After.
The Before: ages 0–31.
The After: 31–41 (so far).
There it is again, a decade. Ten years.

And I have learned more in this decade than in the three that preceded it. It is only in the dark that we truly begin to understand the power of The Light. I’m here to share that learning. To show what I’ve built. To continue moving toward what I was created for. To offer the path, the passion, the mission — a message forged by faith, motherhood, trauma, moving to a foreign country, navigating a world in turmoil, and a deep desire to help others find light again.

I’ve treasured this Marianne Williamson quote ever since I heard Nelson Mandela read it in his inauguration speech. I was sitting in the audience at the Union Buildings with my best friend, Ringi, honoured just to be there at the age of 10 back in 1994. And there it is again, that pesky number 10.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.”

~ Marianne Williamson

So here I am.
A child of God.
No longer playing small.
Choosing to serve.
Choosing to expand.
Choosing to make manifest the glory of God that is within us all.

I’m glad you’re here.

May we build our own city on a hill together to illuminate the way forward.
For the decades ahead.
For the future of our children.
For the ones who come after us.

Lighting the way home for whoever needs it next.