Zero Fucks To Give

One of my favourite songs is “Dela”, by South African band, Savuka. They released it in 1989, when I was 8. Every time it plays, which is often for me, it weaves a spell. Soaking into my skin, taking over my grey matter, pulling invisible marionette strings and I dance like a happy demon has possessed me. I sing along, even though I don’t understand the Zulu words, but I embrace the sentiment behind them.

I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle
I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night
I’ve been waiting for you all my life, waiting for redemption
I’ve been waiting day and night, I burn for you

The final chapter of a love story. The crescendo of longing finally fulfilled.

“Dela, dela ngyanya dela”

I’m complete, I’m complete with you.

What a beautiful idea.

Yet, it wasn’t the sentiment that hooked me, but where I first heard it. In a cutesy movie called George of the Jungle. One of my favourite movies and not just because Brendan Fraser is half naked for most of the movie. Rather, it’s George’s naked honesty that makes me watch it over and over again. There is no hidden agenda behind his words, only genuine truthfulness. He’s not naive or childlike, although those qualities exist in him, but rather doesn’t see the need to hide his feelings behind masks or double speak. He just is.

The scene that this song plays is probably one of my favourites. George declares, “it dancing time”, and asks Ursula to join him. She declines, fearing embarrassment, which is an unknown term for George. Ursula explains “That’s when you feel stupid in front of other people. You know, like they’re judging you.” George is unfamiliar with the idea of self-consciousness. He was raised by apes and other jungle animals, none of which have a complex web of emotions to trap ourselves in. Higher cognition isn’t always a blessing, it’s often a curse.

Eventually, Ursula acquiesces and dances like no one is watching, because George is right, “No people here to look stupid for. Just George.” She takes that lesson back to reality and finds her voice. Proudly giving a jungle yell and following her heart, right to George. Of course the movie had to have a happily ever-after, it is Disney after all. But the lesson Ursula gained from her encounters in the wild is a lesson we all need from time to time.

I’ve been accused of being over confident, egotistical and vain, all titles I wear with pride. I’m not ashamed of who I am. I’m not cruel, callous, deceitful or dishonest (mostly). I like to think I’m a good person, helpful and kind. Am I pious and perfect? Fuck, no. How boring would that be? Am I modest? Also, no. I am fully aware of how good I am at certain things, and how abysmally awful I am at others. I know my limitations and continually test my own boundaries on what I will accept in my behaviour and that of others. I do, contrary to the belief of some, reign myself in. I could be a lot worse.

But, I don’t want to be.

Moral convictions aside, we’re all just trying to survive another turn of the sun. One cannot escape death, it comes for us all. What you do with the time given is what matters. I might live another 50 years (dear gawd, I hope not) or another 50 minutes (please gawd, a little more time), so what am I to do with the time I have? Shall I live it confined to social norms, accepting that there is nothing more to see or do outside the corner of the world I live in? Accepting fate that there is no possibility of expanding beyond my current limitations? Shoulder the responsibility of others that is not mine to shoulder?

Or shall I dance like no one is watching?

Explore realms of unknown?

Live freely, like today might be the last?

I choose the latter. I choose to live like no one’s opinion matters more than my own. Not that they don’t matter. Some opinions mean a lot to me, but I will not allow those opinions to dictate how I live my life. You can disagree with my choices. Many do. You have the right to voice those disapprovals and concerns. Many do. You have the right to remove me from your life should I not fit within the mold you have created for yourself. Many have. But no one has the right to tell me how I have to live my life.

My parents never did that. When I chose history as my major in university and chose Latin as my second language my dad found me Harry Potter and Cat in the Hat in Latin so I could practice. He didn’t get it, but he supported it. Mom was happy I was following a passion, even if it went no where.

I kept that family tradition with Spawn. I might not agree with all her choices, nor understand them, but that is not my life to live. My only role in her life is to support her, encourage her to follow her dreams, and when necessary, bury the bodies.

We are the supporting roles to everyone else’s lead. They are the supporting roles to the spotlight we create for ourselves.

Our lives. Our choices. Our consequences.

You get to decide what supporting role you play for them. You also get to choose what supporting role they play in yours, and for how long. Maybe someone is just a one line actor who pushes the plot along or provides prophecies to the next big adventure.

So who do you want to be for others? The plucky sidekick? The backstabbing traitor? The pious judge? The silent shadow? The reflective mirror? The loyal companion?

Me? I play the role of instigator, pushing you to chase your goals, creating a to-do list to get you started, then cackling when you actually do it and realize what you’ve been missing all this time.

When you dance like you have zero fucks to give.