Nature or Nurture - By Jonathan Broekman
Dear valued clients and friends,
I’ve found myself thinking a lot lately about how we experience fear.
Not the dramatic kind of fear we sometimes imagine but the quieter kind. The fear that creeps in when you read the news, when you think about your children leaving the house, when someone you love is late getting home or when another terrible story reminds you just how quickly an ordinary day can change.
The recent violence against women in South Africa has the same impact.
Perhaps it is because I am a father and now a grandfather too. Perhaps it is because I have spent a fair amount of time running this year. But I keep thinking about the women who left home to go for a run or or simply to get on with their day, probably thinking about the same ordinary things we all think about. What they were going to do later. What was waiting at home. Their families. Their children.
They could never have imagined that they would not come home.
That is a difficult thought to dwell on.
It is also difficult not to become fearful. We want to remain positive. We want to believe that everything will be fine. But there are moments when pretending not to be affected feels almost dishonest.
Where Do We Have a Say?
What I have been asking myself is: what am I able to control?
I cannot control everything that happens in South Africa. I cannot personally fix crime, change another person’s behaviour or guarantee that the people I love will always be safe.
And that is uncomfortable to accept.
My recent podcast interview with Helen Zille brought some of this into focus for me. Whatever our individual political views may be, the conversation reminded me that leadership, policing, basic services and accountability eventually become very personal issues. They influence the communities we live in and the lives we experience every day.
It also reminded me that my vote is one area where I do have a say.
I can pay attention. I can ask questions. I can participate. I can make my own considered decision about the kind of leadership and community I want to live under.
Beyond that, however, I am learning that there comes a point where worrying about what I cannot control simply steals time from what I can.
My family is here today.
The people I love are here today.
The work in front of me is here today.
Perhaps being present is not about ignoring what is wrong in the world. Perhaps it is about refusing to let fear take away the parts of life that are still good.
A Lesson in Patience
I was reminded of that again, in a completely different way, when I recently decided to leave the office and drive to The Aloe Farm to interview Andy de Wet.
There was plenty waiting for me at my desk. Emails, calls, decisions and the usual list of things that always seem urgent.
But I went.
The drive to Hartebeespoort itself began to change my mood. By the time I arrived and found myself surrounded by nature, plants and flowers, I felt as though I had stepped out of the noise for a while.
There is something about nature that forces you to slow down.
You cannot hurry a plant into flowering. You cannot demand that it grow faster because your diary says it should. You do the work, you nurture it and then you wait.
Andy’s story about the eagerly awaited Poppin Pink Agapanthus brought that home beautifully. This world-first vivid pink agapanthus did not happen overnight. It took 21 years of breeding, patience, setbacks, learning and starting again before they finally created what they had been working towards.
It will be celebrated during their Agapanthus Festival later in October but what stayed with me was not simply the flower. It was everything that happened before the flower.
Patience.
Something I am not always particularly good at.
We spend so much of our lives wanting answers immediately. We want problems solved, businesses to grow, circumstances to change and difficult periods to pass.
Nature does not work like that.
And neither does life.
Maybe that is what I am taking from this month.
There will always be things that frighten us. There will always be events we cannot control and questions we cannot immediately answer.
But there are also choices directly in front of us.
To participate rather than feel completely powerless.
To spend time with the people we love.
To step away occasionally.
To notice where we are.
To plant something and have the patience to let it grow.
I cannot control tomorrow.
But I can be present today.
And perhaps, for now, that is enough.
Warm regards,
Jonathan Broekman
Principal, Homes of Distinction
