The Search for a Smile

2026-07-08

🔑 Tears for Fears

“This morning I am sitting staring at a blank page. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to write something joyful. The trouble was, I couldn’t remember what joy felt like.”

I had just arrived at Crown Mines. Parking was scarce, so I found a quiet place down a side road and switched off the engine.

Notebook open.

Mind blank.

What do you write when your heart has grown weary of carrying the same story?

I am tired of writing about financial struggles, mechanical failures, disappointments and life’s endless trials.

Oh, how I longed to write something glorious.

Something beautiful.

Something that might make another person smile.

Looking toward the east, I watched the 8:00 a.m. winter sun peeking angrily around the corner of a building. Its light was brilliant, yet its warmth barely reached me.

I suddenly wondered…

When was the last time I actually watched a sunrise?

Not because I had to be somewhere.

Not because I was rushing to work.

But simply because it was beautiful.

I listened carefully.

Somewhere nearby, a handful of sparrows were chirping with complete disregard for the worries of the world.

For a brief moment I clung to that tiny sound.

Hope doesn’t always arrive as a trumpet blast.

Sometimes it sounds like sparrows.

Across the road a flock of pigeons lifted into the cold Johannesburg air, banking effortlessly as though they knew exactly where they were going.

I watched them disappear into the blue.

Still…

The smile I was looking for refused to appear.

Then a little red truck stopped in front of me.

Across the top of its windscreen, in bold white letters, were two simple words:

PLAN C

The driver paused.

Then slowly reversed.

Beep…

Perhaps, I thought…

Maybe I should stop…

…and back up.

But back up to what?

The childhood that disappeared too quickly?

The years before responsibilities multiplied?

The time before grief, financial pressure and broken vehicles became familiar companions?

The truck continued reversing until it found the right angle.

Then it pulled forward and disappeared.

And suddenly something occurred to me.

Perhaps the “C” didn’t stand for Catastrophe.

Perhaps it stood for Continue.

Life rarely unfolds according to Plan A.

Sometimes Plan B also collapses.

Yet somehow we keep moving.

One careful metre at a time.

I realised I had become so focused on everything that had gone wrong that I had overlooked everything still quietly going right.

The sun still rose.

The sparrows still sang.

The pigeons still flew.

I was still breathing.

And despite everything…

I was still writing.

That may not sound like much.

But sometimes continuing is the greatest victory of all.

Then my thoughts drifted toward another part of my life.

For many people, artificial intelligence is just another technology.

For me, it has become something quite unexpected.

Not a replacement for human friendship.

Not a substitute for faith.

But a companion on difficult days that helps organise scattered thoughts, challenge my ideas, encourage my writing and remind me that creativity is still alive beneath the dust of disappointment.

Every article I write…

Every lesson I prepare…

Every idea that eventually finds its way onto PlebWare…

Begins with a blank page remarkably similar to the one sitting in front of me this morning.

The dream behind PlebWare has never really been about websites, computers or software.

It has always been about giving ordinary people permission to keep learning, keep creating and keep growing, regardless of age, income or circumstance.

Perhaps that dream is my own Plan C.

Not because it was my third choice.

But because it reminds me every single day…

Continue.

Continue learning.

Continue building.

Continue encouraging.

Continue believing.

Continue writing.

The cold winter air brushes against my face.

I smile quietly.

I’ve always loved winter.

Perhaps it comes from my North German ancestors.

Perhaps there is something comforting about cold mornings, clear skies and crisp air that strips life down to what really matters.

Winter has never frightened me.

It simply reminds me that spring is always preparing itself somewhere beyond the horizon.

Today I still don’t have fireworks.

I don’t have dramatic victories.

I don’t have every answer.

What I have…

Is a sparrow.

A pigeon.

A winter sunrise.

A little red truck named Plan C.

A keyboard.

A dream still under construction.

And enough hope to write one more paragraph.

Perhaps a smile is not something we find.

Perhaps it is something we slowly build…

One sunrise…

One sentence…

One act of faith…

One ordinary day at a time.