Ma Wa Gray

  I've had a week of conversations with people who are teetering on the edge of anxiety, burnout and general restlessness. They've all expressed a similar thread to their anxiety - they are all feeling unsettled. For one its the anxiety of an upcoming overseas trip and all the pandemonium of planning, admin and preparation. For another its fatigue that comes with reestablishing herself after several stressful life events, career moves, and cross continent moves. For another its the start of a much hoped for new season that unfortunately is still feeling like the old season. With this at the back of my mind I read the very sad news that South Africa's golden couple - Siya and Rachel - are getting divorced. Lets be honest, we're all a little heartbroken. We wanted their story to be the one that continued to break so many of the barriers that society is still struggling with today. And then I had a brief reflection of how the past two years have played out for them and I s...

Anyone who teaches literature or art - whether it be a novel, a play, a painting or a piece of music - will know that setting the scene for that piece of art is crucial in helping students to understand the world from which the art has emerged. In Drama we have bulky sections of notes titled 'Sociopolitical Context' which go with every play we study because one cannot understand the significance of a play if one doesn't know the world in which it was written.  'Waiting for Godot' only makes sense when the existential backdrop of trench warfare, concentration camps, atomic fallout and despair in humanity are applied to the general milieu. 'A Dolls House' becomes a tool for protest when one realizes that upper class woman at the time in which it was written were considered possessions handed from father to husband, they had no right to vote and were seldom educated. So when Nora walks out on her husband and three children we understand why original audiences w...

When our carpenter carved us He was humming a song, When He ran his hands over the fibers that would make us He saw the complexity and intricacy of us.  We are not straightforward Wood. We are singers, writers, artists, actors, dancers, florists, gardeners, healers, food providers, creators. In us He sees a reflection of His deepest, most passionate self.  Today we commit into the care of our Creator one of our own.  We already know that Teddy's Heavenly work has begun. We see this in the meteors and rainbows that blaze across the sky everytime we think of him.  We see it in the eyes of strangers when we share his story and somehow they find comfort in their own grief because of him. As I drove in my car at 10.00 this morning  wishing that I could be in Cape Town with Quanta and Nick this is the image God gave me.  We are Woods. And we are disparate and our lives have all turned out very differently. We have lost our own, sometimes early, too early for our ...

  The woman stands above the NICU cot. She gazes down at her great grandson. There is only deep deep love for her flesh and blood, nothing human remains in her, just love and peace and joy.  She reaches down and caresses his little face, his body, his feet, she holds his fingers. Deep inside him his spirit stirs. His flesh and blood recognize his own. She is his own and she belongs to him. His spirit smiles in recognition, it won't be long now and then he can take his first walk. The humans around his cot anxiously check monitors and tubes and catheters and beeps. They are trying their absolute best. As they work prayers are muttered under their breaths. This little guy has really has got under their skin, they want more than anything for him to live and to know joy and freedom. There's something special about him. His great grandmother agrees but knows that for these prayers to be answered a different outcome will need to happen.  As a nurse starts to get overwrought in ...

All birthing stories are hectic. Because they were quick, or slow, because they were emergencies, or perfect, or because the babies were big, or small, or born loud or silent. Because birth plans are like parenting plans, they don't exist the moment you realise that, as a parent the control ship has sailed and you are merely a passenger. And you're not actually on a ship, you're in a space rocket, and the manual you're holding is for a donkey wagon, and it's written in Taiwanese. The stories are generally and hopefully great, after the fact. A good yarn to spin the night before your eight year old's birthday. 'Your birth was life changing and amazing... yes, I was induced, and there was meconium when they broke my waters, and your heart rate dropped and you were over 4kgs and you tore me open like a massive jagged mango and I didn't think I would ever sit again... but it was life changing and amazing.'  But as mothers that day, those days, never leav...

 The above picture is singlehandedly both the worst and the best picture ever taken of me. And because Dan Eager's try will go down as a truly iconic moment in Kearsney's history my double chins and psychotic eyes will now also be immortalized. The photo has gone viral and has given my family, friends and vague acquaintances great, great joy.  But I love this picture for all its horror because it shows me for who I am. It is a raw statement of my spirit.   Because I am a witness. Because I celebrate the victories of those I care about with wild abandon and overzealous joy. Because when the people I love win, I win. And because I always want to be on the sidelines cheering you on, in victory, or defeat.  This intense need to see my people flourish is why I became a teacher. When I was considering the various options of study when doing my MA the choices were to go the fame route and develop myself as an actor, director and scriptwriter or to study applied theatre...