Snippets

DURBAN DIARIES

It’s the first thing that hits you when you come close to Durban – the heat. It slams into your clammy face, and it settles in the back of your throat. It creeps into your armpits and between your legs and makes itself comfortable behind your kneecaps and elbows. Before you know it your entire body has become sticky with humid sweat, and your mouth has become filled with the taste of the air. You dream of taking a cold shower as soon as you get to your hotel, but the truth, as long as you are here, you will never feel clean again. The only way to escape it, is to embrace it: welcome to Durban. 

You are traversing the city, and the pavement scorches the soles of your feet. The wind – sometimes gentle, sometimes fierce – brings with it the smells of salt, and rot, and people. When you brush your damp hands over your sticky shins, sand gets stuck between your fingers. You might be on the Promenade, or on the other side of the city, but even in the dead centre of Durban, the memory of the beach is never far away. The golden loveliness stretches on for mile upon uninterrupted mile with only the odd pier to obstruct your view. To one side of the beach lies the steel-grey Indian Ocean, known for its warm water and stormy waves; to the other side are dunes covered in tough and unrelenting vegetation. Monkeys live among the lusciousness, always waiting to steal a snack from an unsuspecting tourist. The beach is always littered with people, and the people of Durban seem to be on a permanent vacation. There are coffee shops and street cafes, cyclists and runners and skateboards and go-karts… There are roadside sellers and men with ice cream trucks; straw hats, and kaftans, and vanilla soft serve. 

Travel slightly to the north, and suddenly, you find yourself in a different world. Durban is known for its thriving informal economy, and the city centre is the perfect place for sensory stimulation. There are people from all walks of life selling all types of merchandise. The smell of refuse mingles with the smell of food; cars with speakers mounted on their roofs drive up and down the crowded streets.

LIFE LESSONS FROM TIME TRAVELLERS

Our forefathers travelled the world, and our ancestors will traverse the galaxy… but there is one place that remains inaccessible to us: The swirling loops of time. Thinking about time travelling can be mind-bending at best, and yet we cannot seem to shake our fascination with the subject. There are countless theories of time travel, and philosophers, scientists, and science fiction writers all continue to study the various aspects of this gripping subject. But facts aside, what can we learn from time travellers in the fictional world, and what are the pitfalls we have to prepare ourselves for, should time travel ever become a possibility? 

If time is seen as linear, it follows that there are two types of time travel: we can either move forward, into the future, or we can travel backwards, into the past. Imagine, for a second, it were possible to see into the future and know exactly what to expect from life: should human beings be allowed to know what will happen to them, and if so, should we be allowed to change those events? There are countless examples in science fiction that try to explain why this is a bad idea. Films such as Looper and Predestination teach us that time travel leads to the self-fulfilling prophecy—by trying to prevent something from happening, you can inadvertently make it come about. Even the ancient Greek myth of Oedipus has the same message: the King was told his son would someday kill him and marry his wife, the Queen; by trying to stop this sequence of events, the King causes these very events to happen. 

In addition to unforeseen consequences, knowing the future has another pitfall: it can prevent us from learning necessary lessons and missing out on personal growth. Most human beings, when finding out that there is certain suffering in their futures, will do everything in their power to avoid it. But is suffering not a necessary part of our journey through life? In Gene Roddenberry’s science fiction series, Star Trek, we see an old Captain Kathryn Janeway travel back in time to work with a young Janeway to change their combined future. Old Janeway’s plan works, and she spares her younger self pain and hardship. Simultaneously, she deprives herself from experiencing the very life lessons that created the strong, intelligent, and self-sufficient woman she came to be in later life.

THE SONG OF THE MERMAID: BEAUTY THAT KILLS

Mermaids: beautiful women with shimmering tails and long hair who swim up from the depths of the ocean to sing to sailors and lure them to their deaths… but where did this fascinating myth come from? One of the first mermaid legends, according to oral history, originated in Syria in 1000 BC. The story goes that the beautiful chief goddess, Atargatis, caused the death of her consort, Hadad. Unable to live with her guilt, she dove into a lake to drown herself, but instead of dying, she took on the form of a fish. The other gods, however, refused to allow her to give up her beauty; instead, her top half remained human, while only her bottom half was turned into a fish.

The myth of mermaids as seductive sirens who cause the deaths of sailors was originally the result of a misunderstanding. In ancient Greek mythology, sirens were half-bird, half-female creatures who enchanted men into becoming shipwrecked on desolate islands, and then lead them to their deaths. Originally, these beautiful maidens were the companions of Persephone, the daughter of Zeus and Demeter. Sadly, they were unable to prevent their mistress’ rape, and thus were sentenced to life as hybrid creatures. Sirens in this form are most prominently mentioned in Homer’s The Odyssey, when Odysseus successfully escaped their call while travelling home from Circe’s Island. While generally believed to be evil, it was also said these creatures knew of all the sadness in the world, and they sang as a way to express their grief. 

It is not clear when sirens first became known as mermaids, but by the 14th century, the myth was well-established. One of the most well-known mermaids of popular culture is Ariel, the protagonist of Walt Disney’s 1989 film, The Little Mermaid. In the story, Ariel falls in love with a prince, and she gives up her family and her life in her father’s underwater kingdom to pursue her love. However, the cost of her choice is that she has to give up her voice to an evil witch named Ursula. Instead of seducing the prince with her singing, she has to convince him of her love without the use of word or song. Disney’s film adaptation has a happy ending: Ariel marries the prince and together they defeat Ursula. Sadly, Ariel’s fairy-tale predecessor had a much darker fate. Unable to convince the prince to fall in love with her, the Little Mermaid stands by as the prince marries another woman. Devastated, she goes back to the witch in the hope that she will be allowed to return to the ocean, and to her family. The witch grants her this wish, but in return, she has to kill the prince and his new bride in the marital bed. The Little Mermaid tries, but she is too pure of heart: Unable to fulfil the witch’s command, she throws herself into the ocean, where, being a human, she drowns.

ACT I: THE RISE OF THE CIRCUS AND THE GREAT DEPRESSION

A whip cracks, an animal jumps, and instantly, the air is filled with the smell of sawdust; sequins glitter in the afternoon sun, and a man with a moustache, a top hat, and a booming voice opens his arms jovially and belts out: “Welcome to the circus!” And indeed, if ever there was a welcoming place, the circus would be it: there are concession stands with warm popcorn, welcoming ushers in bright clothing, performers who never stop smiling, and clowns who deprecate themselves, purely for your entertainment. But where did this tradition come from? The first circus came into being—most bizarrely—as a result of centripetal force, when British sergeant major Philip Astley discovered that this particular scientific phenomenon allowed him to remain standing on his horse’s back as long as he continued galloping in a circle. In America, the first circus was held in 1793, but it was not until the arrival of circus tents and the rise of P.T. Barnum that the circus trade became a popular source of entertainment. 

The Great Depression of the 1930s was characterized by a decline in manufacturing, rapidly rising unemployment rates, the loss of vast tracts of farmland, and stupendous levels of migration as people tried to carve out an existence for themselves and their families. One would think, in a time when money was little and humour was lost, that an industry such as the circus would be the first to die; but although many circuses suffered some losses, they continued to survive—despite the world finding itself in a depression. 

Why do people love circuses? The most obvious answer is that it’s a form of entertainment, and a way to take your mind off your own life for a few hours. Just like we watch television and series today, so did the people of yesteryear turn to circuses whenever they needed a break from reality. More than that, circus acts give people the opportunity to live vicariously through others. The graceful trapeze artist or the brave lion tamer don’t just entertain you—they become you. When you see people doing things the average person will never be able to do, you get the opportunity to do those things, too. What purpose, then, does this mindset serve in difficult times such as the Great Depression?

PRATCHETT'S WITCH

In Equal Rites, the third novel in Terry Pratchett's acclaimed Discworld series, Pratchett uses his legendary humour and wit to write a compelling and accessible fairy tale in which he addresses that age-old conflict between men and women. Traditionally, women are granted ‘witch magic,’ and men ‘wizard magic.’ Tradition, however, is turned upside down when a young girl, Eskarina Smith, accidentally has a spell cast on her that turns her into a wizard. And so begins the journey of a little girl trying to prove herself in a man’s world. 

While I applaud Pratchett’s attempt to bring to light the disparity that continues to exist between male and female capabilities, his description of the interplay between wizard magic and witch magic is somewhat misguided. According to Pratchett, Eskarina is able to assert herself as a woman in a man's world by mastering the traditionally male and historically superior wizard magic. The implication of this, according to Pratchett, is that Eskarina is allowed access to a world formerly unavailable to women, because she proved herself as good as her male counterparts. Pratchett therefore implicitly proposes that the efforts of women should be considered valid because they are equal to those of men: simply put, 'anything men can do, women can do [equally well].' However, I have to disagree with Pratchett on this point: the endeavours and achievements of women are valid, not because they are equal to those of their male counterparts, but because they are inherently different. The ambition of a woman should not be to 'beat men at their own game,' but to beat them with her game. Or better yet, her ambition should not be to beat men at all, because the days when women had to prove their worth–to anyone—ought to be dead and gone. 

NINE PERFECT STRANGERS: A CONVERSATION ABOUT CONSENT

Moriarty’s nine strangers are drugged with LSD every day from the day of their arrival. Initially, they are only given micro-doses of the drug; as the novel reaches a climax, each individual is surreptitiously administered a full dose using their daily health smoothies as a disguise. They ‘trip’—hard—and many of them have personal breakthroughs. They are unhappy (as can be expected), but after some upheaval and a chaotic denouement, all nine of them go home to live happily ever after… or so Moriarty would have us believe. 

Consent. When did it die, and why has nobody noticed? Nine Perfect Strangers proved to be an immensely popular novel. It was named a New York Times Bestseller, and was a finalist in the Goodreads Choice Awards. In 2020, the novel was adapted into a television series that premiered in August of 2021. Clearly, critics and readers alike saw merits in the novel, and yet Moriarty’s blatant disregard for the individual’s right to bodily autonomy is rarely mentioned, if ever. Furthermore, Moriarty herself does not seem to be aware of this troubling oversight in her work. Words have power, and it is problematic when authors wield this power to the detriment of society without realising their mistake or understanding their actions. 

Whether she is aware of it or not, Moriarty’s novel is based on an ethical position known as ‘utilitarianism.’ This theory proposes that the most ethical act is the one that will benefit the majority. In other words, even though the nine strangers were harmed, it was for the good of society; therefore the woman who drugged them without their consent was behaving ethically. While the story has a happy ending, it is most likely the reality would not have had the same. Consider this puzzle put forward by Peter Cave: one morning, you wake up to find yourself in a hospital. Attached to your body by a mass of tubes is a world-famous violinist on the verge of death, with this attachment being the only thing keeping him alive. You were not asked for consent because this was an emergency; moreover, if you have him disconnected from your body, he will surely die. The utilitarian math has been done, and it has been decided that to keep him alive—even at the cost of your own life—will have a greater benefit for society than having him removed from your body. You are expected to keep this man alive for the rest of your life, because that is what is best for all.

A WRITTEN DISASTER: THE MERIT OF ACADEMIC METHODS IN SOUTH AFRICAN UNIVERSITIES

In 1088, the first university in the world, the University of Bologna, was established in Italy. This began a long tradition of advanced academic study that persists into the present day. In 1829, a high school for boys known as the South African College was founded by the Groote Kerk in Cape Town. 89 years later, this institution officially became South Africa’s first university, now known as the University of Cape Town. At the time of its establishment, South Africa was under Dutch rule; however, by 1918, the country was under British rule. The consequence was that, along with newspaper publishing, infrastructure, and the pound sterling, the British also brought their academic standards to South African educational institutions. Some of these include the current postgraduate system of degrees, and the introduction of academic writing as a way to evaluate the merit of an individual student’s work. 

Like poetry, fiction, essays, and epistolary, academic writing is a genre in its own right. It is a rigorous style of writing that requires a formal tone, a clear intention, precision in vocabulary, pristine (and often archaic) use of grammar, and evidence of well-researched conclusions. It is a difficult style of writing to master because it relies heavily on clear organisation and technical terminology. It is one of the most inflexible styles of writing, and, not without reason, it is often criticised for being difficult to comprehend. Furthermore, academic writing in South Africa is almost exclusively done in English, with the exception of a few courses that allow students to write their assignments and essays in Afrikaans. 

In South Africa, there are thousands of students whose first language is not English. Moreover, there are just as many students who do not have access to high quality primary and secondary education. Few pupils make it to university, and many of those who do have little chance of passing, simply because they lack the necessary literacy skills to master the academic register. While it is generally understood that academic writing is the only way to evaluate the work of students, conditions in South Africa raises the question whether this system—inherited from a colonial past—is appropriate for the country’s current context. Should the status quo remain in place, even if it is to the detriment of an entire generation? 

THE RISE OF SELF-HELP AND THE FALL OF MENTAL HEALTH

‘Help.’ The word may not be scrawled on sidewalks and the walls of buildings, but it might as well have been. It hangs in the air, it shows on strangers’ faces, and most of all, it presents itself in the popular reading material of the 21st century. The first self-help book hit the shelves in the 1800s with the publication of Samuel Smiles’ 1859 title, Self-Help. Today, nearly 15,000 self-help books are published in the United States of America every year, and the industry is believed to be worth more than one billion dollars. Furthermore, it is estimated that between 2013 and 2019, the number of self-help titles doubled annually, and it is currently considered the world’s best-selling genre. 

The purpose of a self-help book is to teach its readers how to solve problems, specifically those of a personal nature. The topics covered by this genre are endless: habit building, self-discipline, grief and trauma, decluttering—there seems to be a book for every human problem; and while this in itself seems unremarkable, one has to wonder why there is such a sudden, desperate need in the world to learn to help and to heal ourselves. 

The world is facing a mental health crisis, and much of the blame is being placed on the way our society and communities have evolved. According to a study conducted by the World Health Organisation, diagnosed mental health conditions in global populations have increased with 13 percent in the past 15 years. Suicide is the fourth leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 29, and 20 percent of children and adolescents suffer from one or more mental health conditions. Large portions of the world are unable to function effectively, and the crisis costs the global economy more than one trillion dollars every year. Despite ongoing attempts by a number of organizations to address the issue, the problem seems to persist; if anything, it’s worsening by the day. 

Traditionally, those struggling with mental health problems would have turned to professionals, communities, or their loved ones for help. Sadly, for many this is no longer an option, and instead, they have decided to turn to books. 

WOMEN WHO KILL: THE CASE OF DAISY DE MELKER

As a professional nurse, Daisy de Melker was trained to be a nurturer and a caregiver. Alongside her supposedly compassionate nature, however, she was also a killer. Born in South Africa in the mid-1980s, De Melker was one of 11 children. As a young woman, she spent quite some time in Zimbabwe, where she met her first fiancée, a civil servant named Bert Fuller. De Melker fell in love instantly and was convinced this was the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Sadly, Fuller contracted blackwater fever and passed away on the very same day he would have married De Melker. Throughout his illness, she remained by his bedside, attempting to nurse him back to health; by the age of 21, she had lost the first love of her life to disease. 

De Melker gained notoriety in the annals of South African crime for poisoning her two husbands and her son; but what would drive a nurse to commit such acts of violence? Her first victim was plumber William Cowle, whom she married in 1909, a year and a half following Fuller’s passing. Of their five children, only one—Rhodes Cecil Cowle—survived. De Melker and Cowle were married for 14 years; then, on a January morning in 1923, disaster struck when Cowle fell ill for seemingly no reason. His symptoms were severe, and he suffered terribly: his face turned blue, he foamed at the mouth, and he experienced agonizing pain at the slightest touch. De Melker called the neighbours, who in turn called a doctor for help. By the time the doctor arrived, Cowle’s condition was irremediable: he passed away that very morning.

A REAL-LIFE WHODUNNIT: THE DISAPPEARANCE OF AGATHA CHRISTIE

We all love a good puzzle, and few are more intriguing than the riddles solved by fictional detectives. A true whodunnit is one that follows an intricate plot littered with questions and clues, and nobody understood this better than crime author Agatha Christie. Born in 1890 in the United Kingdom, Christie has 66 novels and 14 short stories to her name. She is outdone only by Shakespeare and the Bible in sales, and this makes her the bestselling novelist in history. Her name has become synonymous with detective fiction – but what happens when a crime novelist becomes involved in a real-life mystery of her own? 

On the morning of 3 December 1926, Christie’s abandoned car was found near her home in Surrey. 11 days later, she was recognized in Harrogate, some four hour’s drive from her home. The incident prompted a nationwide manhunt that involved aeroplanes and the efforts of thousands of officers and members of the public. Christie’s husband was considered a suspect in his wife’s disappearance, and newspapers offered rewards for any information. Two of Christie’s contemporaries, Dorothy L. Sayers and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, were enlisted to help with the search, and thousands of pounds were spent while trying to solve the mystery of the disappearing author. While Christie was found unharmed 11 days later, the mystery of her disappearance persists. Nearly 100 years later, it is still unclear as to what happened to her in the days she went missing… in a unique twist of irony, the Queen of Crime’s life is engulfed in a mystery not even she could solve.

MANIFESTATION: AN ENERGETIC UNIVERSE

The key to life, manifestation, and the Universe, is energy. There is energy all around us—in the tangible, in the immaterial, in the living and in the inanimate... and most of all, there is energy in us. Everything and everyone is made up of millions of vibrating atoms, each with their own frequency and energetic field; and when there is harmony between these different energetic vibrations, we become aligned with the Universe, and magic becomes possible. Therefore, the secret to manifesting your dreams is to manage your energy, and the way to do this is to pay attention to your thoughts, feelings, and ideas. Despite it being a cliché, you are, in fact, not only what you repeatedly do, but also what you allow yourself to think and feel. "Energy flows where attention goes (Robbins, n.d.);" and attracting goodness, success, and joy is to dwell in goodness, success, and joy—every moment of every day. 

It is impossible to avoid pain and suffering: life happens to all of us, and unfortunately, we cannot escape the human condition. However, while we are unable to predict or control what might cross our paths in the future, we have full control over our reactions to misfortune and suffering. If we choose to react with pessimistic energy, our experience of unfortunate events--and of life at large—will follow suit. Simultaneously, if we are able to acknowledge all we have to be grateful for and focus our energy on the positive moments of life, our manifestation practices will become increasingly powerful, and the Universe will most likely bless us with not only with what we want, but also with what we need.

THE LITTLE BOOK OF YOGA

Yoga is peace, yoga is consciousness, yoga is the yoke that brings all of our scattered parts together… at the same time, yoga is also thoroughly controversial. Originating in northern India, yoga is a 5,000-year-old spiritual practice first described in the ancient sacred texts, the Rig Veda. In the West, yoga was first introduced by an Indian monk named Swami Vivekananda in 1883. Vivekananda taught Westerners that yoga is a “science of the mind,” and he translated ancient Sanskrit yogic texts into English so that they could be made accessible to Western society. However, despite his many attempts to teach yoga is its authentic form, the practice has nevertheless been adopted by many as a purely physical form of exercise. This has caused dismay in many who believe that yoga is about more than toning your body and losing weight. Simultaneously, there are others who see their understanding of yoga as an intellectual exercise, rather than an experiential one. To quote the founder of the Isha Foundation, Sadhguru: “To reduce a sophisticated science, like yoga, to mere doctrine is just as tragic as turning it into a cardiovascular exercise.” In other words, yoga has to be felt rather than understood, but that experience—that feeling—is an all-encompassing spiritual one, rather than a purely physical one. 

Despite the controversy, yoga remains a popular practice in both the East and the West, The reasons for this are endless: it improves flexibility, mobility, and muscle strength and tone; it increases energy levels and physical fitness; it relaxes the body and calms the mind, improving the body’s immune system and strengthening its responses to stress; and most of all, it increases your connection to yourself by cultivating a spirit of mindfulness and awareness. Sadly, these benefits are lost on many people on account of the way yoga is portrayed on social media. Toned women in tight spandex shorts and crop tops can be seen doing complicated poses and dangerous headstands, and this has created the impression that yoga is not accessible for anyone. Popular catchphrases such as, “The pose you hate the most is the one you need the most,” “the pose starts when you want to leave it,” and “pain is weakness leaving the body” has created the impression that yoga is about physical suffering of a kind not all people are able to endure. This has put many people off the practice, and has served to increase the controversy that disguises the true beauty of yoga.

PHILOSOPHERS IN LOVE

Philosophy encompasses all of human experience – and that includes love. For thousands of years, people have been obsessed with what it means to love, and philosophers are no different. At the same time, for many of these thinkers, love was more than something they simply studied: it was something they lived. Two of the most famous philosophers of love and sex were Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. Long-term life partners, Sartre and De Beauvoir had an open relationship that continues to fascinate many people. Contrary to convention, of the time, their relationship defied many norms, and there are some who still consider their partnership to be a source of controversy. Much has been written about the minutiae of their relationship: where they met, how they lived, and what their relation to each other was on an everyday basis; more interesting, however is how their personal lives influenced their careers as philosophers. The same is true for many other thinkers: Bertrand Russell’s ‘immoral’ lifestyle – and the criticism he received as a consequence – in part inspired him to advocate for gay rights and free love, and bell hooks’ realisation that there were no philosophical texts available that could have guided her through a series of break-ups lead her to write those texts herself. The romantic tragedies suffered by thinkers such as Søren Kierkegaard, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Arthur Schopenhauer coloured not only their views on life, but also their work, and seminal philosopher Immanuel Kant has been criticised not only for his failure to write about romantic love, but also his ostensible inability to practice it. 

The relationship between philosophers’ love lives and their work raises the question why love has such a profound impact on human beings that it can – and has – completely altered the course of many a career. Human beings’ fascination with love was first recorded in ancient cultures: from Sumerian erotic poems to Babylonian marriage contracts, it seems the questions around love, lust, desire, and commitment have plagued us for all of human history.

ON THE SUBJECT OF (B)EAUTY

Well, Dr. Singh–I went on a lovely hike this morning where I experienced many Beautiful things; and since nobody present seemed to care about such 'minutiae', I've decided to share some of them with you instead. There is Beauty in the shiny, dark blue wings of a butterfly hidden in the grass; in the delicate sunrise-like blend of pink and orange on the peel of a grapefruit; in the tinkling of the ice-cream truck's bell. There is Beauty in the woman who walks patiently, arm-in-arm, with her aged mother down a rocky mountain trail, and in the glossy psychedelic folds of the mother's purple and pink dress. Beauty is the shiny reflection of an entire world contained within a single drop of water on the windshield; Beauty is the raucous cheers of friends who urge each other up the mountain, and down the other side. Beauty is everywhere, in everything, in everyone–but most of all, Beauty is the soft black eyes of my canine Divine Spark when she greets me every time I come home. 

The world is at war (or so I am told) and the news is forever blaring its relentless wash of despair into my life. This afternoon, I watched glittering dust motes float in the afternoon sun while I (tried not to) listen[ed] to its stream of negativity. It made me realize we really do live in a world filled with magic (I suspect 'world' is not the correct word, and I look forward to you correcting–ahem, 'mansplaining' [it to]–me...). Even though there are people on the globe who seem incapable of existing without murdering their fellow beings, we are nevertheless surrounded by magic: the magic of Beauty which is accessible to all, should they only choose to see it. Perhaps, Dr. Singh, the meaning of life lies not in virtue, or triumph over suffering, or grand acts of heroism, or even human industry–perhaps the meaning of life can be found in the choice to see the magic–the Beauty–in even the smallest particles of dust.

ON PREJUDICE, VEGETABLES, AND ACCEPTING YOUR FAMILY

I come from an Afrikaans family, which means I was raised in a culture where people come together at least once a week to ‘braai’ (barbeque), and chicken is thought of as a vegetable. I’ve been thinking of trying vegetarianism for many years for various reasons that keep changing, but I never got as far as actually making the change. I had many excuses: I can’t accommodate myself and my family without cooking two different meals every night; I can’t expect people to cater especially for me whenever I visit them; I’m a student and I have to take what I can get. Some of these excuses were valid, but none of them explained the true reason why I didn’t want to become a vegetarian. The true reason, ridiculous as it might sound, was that I was scared of what people would think. 

Throughout my life, I’ve watched many a vegan and vegetarian get attacked by people who simply couldn’t understand why someone would not want to consume animal products. I never quite understood it – as long as nobody was trying to force an opinion on them, why should it bother people what others did and didn’t do? And yet, I’ve noticed that there is little room for rationality when it comes to individual dietary choices. When I imagined myself telling people that I have decided to become a vegetarian, this was exactly what I pictured: aggressive reactions to my innocent and independent choice to make a lifestyle change that I, by no means, expected anybody else to follow. Given my background and my culture’s reverence for meat, I believed my experience would be especially bad. When it finally became impossible to stomach meat and the moment did at last arrive, I was ready with all kinds of equally aggressive responses. If they want to attack me, I decided, I will attack them right back. 

Turns out, I didn’t need any of the weapons in my arsenal, because as it also turns out, I am lucky enough to have the most accepting family in the world. Aside from one cousin, not a single person had a negative thing to say about my choice. Some of them asked me why I wanted to be a vegetarian, but when they did, it was purely out of interest. A few of my family members even said that they, too, would like to eat less meat, or that they weren’t all that bothered about how much meat they ate. They had no issues providing me with alternatives, and some of them even joined me in trying out new recipes. I was – and still am – amazed – so why did I judge them so harshly?

THE ADHD DIARIES: WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

“I’m sorry I’m late.” 

“I can’t believe I missed it.” 

“Was it that long ago? It feels like only yesterday.” 

“Oh my goodness – where did the time go?” 

Phrases that are common to most of us – but could they be a sign of time blindness? 'Time blindness' is the “difficulty or inability to sense the passing of time or recall when certain memories took place (choosingtherapy).” In practical terms, someone with time blindness will often under- or overestimate how much time they need for a specific task, how much time has passed, or how much time still has to pass before events. Along with being a pain in the ass – and one of the biggest reasons why I chronically miss deadlines – time blindness causes one to arrive late all the time. It also makes it difficult to make realistic schedules, and close to impossible to stick to them. And yes: it’s also a common symptom in people who suffer from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). 

According to Dr. Ari Tuckmann (chadd.org), we sense time the same way our bodies are able to sense light, sound, and taste. We are not born with this innate awareness of time, and it only develops as we grow older. Ideally, a stable and realistic sense of time should be fully developed by the time we reach adulthood. 

Tuckmann places an awareness of time on a scale ranging from a 'hard' to a 'soft' awareness of time, the first being the ability to accurately track the passing of time, and the second the inability to do so. Having a soft awareness of time is generally accompanied by lateness, missed deadlines, and late nights, because you 'simply didn’t realize it would take this long.' Time blindness. According to Tuckmann, is located right at the very limit of the soft end of the scale; given the time-driven nature of our society, finding yourself on this end of the spectrum can make life especially challenging.