Yesterday I had a moment.

A moment of sheer joy and exuberance. I woke the whole of Milkwood Cottage with my happiness. I ran from room to room blurting out snippets of what I had just read on Face Book. Not entirely coherent, I am afraid. Nevertheless with powerful energy.

It was a small thing, really. In the cosmic sense – just a blip. Maybe not even that. For me, it was the culmination of many hours of hard work . Fun work, I admit. Those of you who have read my posts in the past, know this much about me. I love to write. Nowadays I am even learning to actually write – not just sprout about how I love it!

So here’s the thing. My first radio drama will be broadcast on 28 May 2015 at 20h00 on RSG in the “ Radio Teater” slot. The post I read on Face Book was by Renske Jacobs who was chosen to direct and produce “ Wat sal die mense sê”.

The post was about her excitement . This is the first full radio drama she is directing and her enthusiasm and , dare I say it: “JOY” just bubbled out of that post. It reminded me of someone. Oh, wait a minute, I know who…me!!

She listed the cast she has chosen and , lo and behold , there were personal gifts there too. A familiar name from the past and someone who studied drama with my daughter , Marguerite , are part of the cast (amongst the other well-known names). My overwhelming sense was knowing why Renske was chosen , being grateful and in awe of the skill it takes to put the right team together to make the magic we call entertainment.

Forever the navel gazer, I am aware of my very real discomfort at being out there, feeling exposed, the awkwardness of announcing that something I have written will be heard by many people. I have found myself telling people lately, but afterwards I feel the urge to take it back and hide again.
What has been fun, is prancing around the bedroom in the mornings when I hear Renske read the news or the weather, shrieking: “ That’s my director, that’s my director!!”

As I write this, it comes to me – it is about the story. In the end, that is what counts. It is the story that wanted to be written, to be told, to be heard. That is what matters most. It is the story that moved Renske as she worked with the text. It filled her with the passion that spiraled out of that post and snared my heart. That is what made my Inner Child jig, jive and giggle with delight and recognition.

Above all, yesterday’s moment in time taught me a valuable lesson for the umpteenth time. I waited until this morning to try and capture the experience. I found, as I so often do, that it is elusive. Trying to hold water in one’s hand.

The story calls, the image or phrase emerges for a brief, brief second from the intriguing Unknown . Tickles and teases. Best leave everything, dear One, and write it down. Tomorrow , no, in a fleeting nano second, it will be gone. Never to be found again.