What we resist, persists.
“Cape Town is beautiful and can sometimes be so unkind to Black and Brown people.”
I came across these words posted yesterday on Facebook, which I paraphrased, and felt compelled to write this article.
What we resist, persists.
I have just returned from my holiday in Cape Town.
I am grateful that we were able to rent a comfortable holiday home through Airbnb in the idyllic, exceptionally beautiful coastal town of Yzerfontein. We would cook with great delight at night, looking out at the ocean. At sunset, we’d be mesmerised by the vast, expansive sky filled with hues of burnt orange, gold, and yellow.
However, instead of smiling, this one memory leaves me raging with anger. The day before Christmas Eve, we noticed a snake in the grass next to our yard, and, terror-stricken, went in the opposite direction on our walk, trying really hard not to panic.
Now, for those of you who know me just a little bit, you would know that I am petrified of snakes. In fact, I have been waiting for the day of reckoning, as I know that what we resist, persists. I had been resisting the existence of snakes since I was a young child. Quite illogical, right? Yes, I know, but so it has been.
What about you? What do you avoid, resist or push away repeatedly, so that it always seems to find its way back to you?
The next morning, we noticed the same snake in the yard where we were staying. We did the responsible thing and called a professional snake catcher. Twenty minutes later, a middle-aged Afrikaner male in cargo shorts arrived. When he found the snake and discovered it was already dead, he turned his venom on my sons without hesitation. He accused them of killing it and then proceeded to call them “Cunts.”
Cunts! Can you believe it?
The fresh air turned thick and stale. My sons, boys who have grown up in a “New” South Africa, were startled into a hollow, haunting silence.
And to add insult to injury, he left the dead snake behind, refusing to take it with him. Just unimaginable!
Upon my return from the holiday, instead of feeling relaxed and peaceful, my mind kept wandering back to this incident with the dead snake and what it might mean.
During my morning meditation, I came to the following conclusion:
I am ready to leave that dead snake behind in 2025, and will commit to shedding the following:
- Fake politeness, at the expense of speaking my truth;
- Unfound fears and anxieties that suggest that I/we do not belong in specific spaces and places;
- To let go of laziness that prevents me from facing my dehumanisation for the sake of keeping the peace
- Shedding the urge to protect the privileged class and their vulgar, unkind behaviour, whilst normalising the suffering, pain and struggles of the poor.
What are you ready to shed and let go of in 2026 that no longer serves you? Perhaps a toxic relationship that costs you your inner peace? Or that unsavoury substance habit which is robbing you of cultivating healthy coping mechanisms?
Instead, I chose a new symbol. The Oak Tree.
Did you know that the mighty oak tree grows from a small, nutrient-dense acorn that can withstand nature’s unpredictability? The oak tree can live for up to 1000 years and is born from a seemingly insignificant and small acorn.
For me, it represents:
- My resilience, resourcefulness, and my capacity, grown out of years of struggle, resistance and at times hopelessness into a mighty, sturdy oak tree whose leaves provide shade for all, including the voiceless and invisible masses.
- Stability: As I intentionally ground myself in my inherent dignity, I will shed the lies of patriarchy and colonialism that scream to claim my inferiority.
- Strength: To resist the urge to roll over and assimilate, as I am tired of weathering storms of racism, poverty, exclusion, despair and indignation. In fact, it is our duty to dig deep and access our innate strength as we build our emotional muscles to call out injustices whenever and wherever we encounter them.
And though I am still distraught by this unfair treatment, I am writing this article in the hope that, with awareness and honesty, we can make the world a kinder place for all.
And to my precious sons, as the great Thich Nhat Hanh beautifully wrote: “I have arrived. I am home. My destination is in each step.”
I remind you that you belong and you are already home. Wherever your feet tread, that is where you belong. Your dignity is non-negotiable.