The Lighter Side of Change

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Sometimes it sneaks up slowly on you. Sometimes, it hits you like a bolt out of the blue. Either way, change is an everyday force of life that can take you by surprise and throw your world into disarray.

But whether it’s a change in the workplace, the homefront, or the country as a whole, there’s a surefire way of putting it all into perspective. And that’s the power of laughter.

Learning to Love Change means learning to laugh at those big Change Moments, even if only in retrospect, which is why BrightRock leaped at the opportunity to partner with the Johannesburg International Comedy Festival earlier this month.

With giant funnyman Jason Goliath at the helm in the #LoveChange Studio, this annual festival offers a unique opportunity to look at the lighter side of life and the way it is always subject to change.

You can catch all the comedy action on BrightRock TV on YouTube and the Change Exchange at www.changeexchange.co.za.

In the meantime, a very hearty welcome to this edition of The Comet, your guide to the world of BrightRock and beyond. You’ll find an uplifting tale of an innovative South African expatriate, a guide to getting your digital life in order, a debate on the perpetual battle between the generations, and more. Enjoy, and keep on laughing!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Baby Steps for a New BrightRock Mom

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Meet Noelene Reddy, BrightRock Processing Manager, whose view of life has changed for the better since a little stranger made her debut

As Processing Manager at BrightRock’s headquarters in  Johannesburg, Noelene Reddy takes pride in ensuring that her team delivers quality work, on schedule.

But there was one particular project, late last year, that took a little longer than planned to see the light of day. And that was Noelene’s beautiful baby daughter, Ayva. “She just didn’t want to come out!” laughs Noelene.

But the wait, as it turned out, was worth it, for mom and “over-the-moon” dad, Ajay. Basking in the glow of first-time motherhood, Noelene calls Ayva a blessing and a miracle, and on top of all that, a tiny teacher of some very important lessons.

“I’m learning something new from her every day,” says Noelene. “There’s no manual that comes with a baby, so you have to take every day as it comes. She’s teaching me the value of patience. It’s been an amazing journey so far.”

For Noelene, the journey goes all the way back to the town of Merebank in KwaZulu-Natal, where she grew up with a dream of caring: she wanted to become a nurse.

In the meantime, after matriculating and moving up to Johannesburg, she took a temporary job in the mailroom at a health insurance company. She worked her way up the ladder and found a career for life, leading to a bright new path at BrightRock in 2012.

“Walking out of my comfort zone after 10 years in one company was a scary thought,” recalls Noelene. “But my immediate impression was, wow, so many opportunities in such a small company. I have never felt more welcomed. We have a dedicated bunch of people that day in and day out try to conquer the world.”

For Noelene, the BrightRock philosophy of loving change means hard work and sleepless nights, “but it’s worth it in the end, when the pieces of the puzzle come together.”

She relishes the opportunity to do things differently at BrightRock, by anticipating and staying ahead of the needs of clients and brokers.

“I like the fact that when we say we will make a plan, we do go out of our way to do so. And at the end of the day, we stick to what we promise people.”

So what does it to take to be a successful Processing Manager?

“Patience,” answers Noelene, after a moment’s thought. You have to listen carefully too, and you need to know the difference between being busy and being productive. You need to be able to take time to laugh, and to speak your mind even if you’re worried you might sound silly: “Sometimes your best ideas come out of random thoughts.”

But more than anything, feeling at home at BrightRock means being part of the family, and all the more so since little Avya became its brightest new addition.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Welcome to the Bright Side!

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Hello, and a very warm and bright welcome to this edition of The Comet, bringing you news, views, advice and insights from the world of BrightRock and beyond.

And it’s a world that is swiftly growing and changing, as we shine the spotlight on a landmark deal between five-year-old BrightRock and 99-year-old Sanlam.

Read all about it in our interview with BrightRock CEO Schalk Malan, who tells Alec Hogg: “You’ve got to want to change the world. You need to have a very specific objective that you want to achieve.”

So here’s to you and your big dreams too. Remember, it all begins with a single bright idea…and a lot of hard work to make it happen.

We hope you enjoy this edition, and please feel free to join us on our social media channels, Twitter at @BrightRockZA, Facebook on www.facebook.com/BrightRockZA, and at our bright and breezy online portal, http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Chicken Little & the Big Oaks

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What if the sky isn’t falling, as Chicken Little feared? What if it’s actually raining acorns? A new take on a familiar old fable, for our changing times and worldBy Gus Silber

Chicken Little went for a walk one bright and sunny day, and you know what happened next. The heavens darkened, the silver lining unpeeled from the clouds, and the sky came crashing down on his head.

He ran around in a clucking panic, rushing to tell everyone he knew the calamitous news. “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”

Soon, it was a trending topic, and he had gathered a delegation of fellow fowls – Turkey Lurkey, Henny Penny, and Ducky Lucky – to present a petition to the king, whose name was Foxy Loxy, and who, after diligently applying his mind to the matter, proceeded to gobble them all up.

Happily, we live in a democracy locracy, so there is little chance of this ever happening over here. But that is not the moral of the story.

The moral is that Chicken Little got it wrong. It wasn’t the sky that fell on his head. It was an acorn.

An easy mistake to make, and one that reminds me, as I recount this fable, that you get two types of people in South Africa. I will call them the sky-fallers, and the acorn-planters.

The sky-fallers hold the view, reinforced by an email from an expat or a post on Facebook to which they appended the scream-face emoji, that all hope is lost, and that the best we can do is cover our heads and find a good tunnel in which to weather the storm.

The acorn-planters, on the other hand, gaze quizzically up at the sky, look down to see the acorn, plant it in a freshly-tilled furrow, and nurture it slowly to bloom. These are the good oaks.

I am not talking here about those who see the glass as half-full, since in South Africa, as someone told me around a braai the other day, while the optimist and the pessimist are engaged in their little philosophical debate, someone else will sneak in under the table and run away with their beer.

I am talking about – well, let me not mention names, since this isn’t a roll-call or an awards ceremony, it’s merely a proposition. So I will just present you with a couple of cases in point.

I know a guy, a Harvard graduate and Rhodes scholar, who left a very high-paying job on Wall Street to come back home and start a company that finds, trains, and funds young entrepreneurs. In his office in Johannesburg, side by side, there are giant posters of two Steves: Jobs and Biko, his heroes and role-models.

In a small village in Mpumalanga, there is a guy who, as a schoolboy, put on his mother’s wedding veil and Mexican sombrero and learned the art and science of apiculture.

Now he runs a network of hives that make honey and money for novice beekeepers in one of the most poverty-stricken parts of the country.

In the Free State, there is a lady who was thwarted in her ambition to become a nurse, and who went on to start a care home and school for orphaned and vulnerable children.

In the Eastern Cape, there is a company director who left the boardroom to start a project that recycles rubbish and turns gang-ridden wastelands into bright and breezy play-parks.

In Joburg there is a young business-owner, an architect by degree, who sells gardens-in-a-box, strips of paper embedded with seeds, that you plant in shallow soil to grow your own vegetables.

When I meet people like this – and doctors who work gruelling shifts in rural hospitals, and unemployed youngsters who start libraries in their communities, and dancers who use dance to teach mathematics to kids – I wonder to myself, why aren’t they sitting at their computers, tapping away on their smartphones, waging hashtag battles against strangers on social media?

Can they not see, do they not know, that the sky is falling all around them? But they are too busy planting acorns.

It is not that they are not troubled by the state of things, or worn-out and frazzled and on edge; it is precisely because they are that they do what they do.

They are not do-gooders. They are good doers, and the difference is in the difference they make, quietly, restlessly, inside and around and beyond the tumult of everyday life.

I suppose you could call them social entrepreneurs, or community workers, or activists of inspiration, but I prefer to think of them, simply, as South Africans.

Once I interviewed the founder and CEO of a multinational business, in his multi-storey offices in Sandton, and at the end I asked him, why do you stay here? What keeps you in this place?

And he laughed and said, at the end of every day here, you take a deep breath and you say to yourself, phew, I made it. I got through another day. And you know what? There’s another day tomorrow.

So the difference lies in what you do with your day, and when you look at it that way, it’s not that difficult a choice to make. After all, why be a Little Chicken, when you can be a big oak.

* The opinions expressed in this piece are the writer’s own and don’t necessarily reflect the views of BrightRock.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Happy Holidays, & a Bright 2017!

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Well, phew. There goes 2016. As years go, few among us are likely to be sorry to see this one going, going, gone.

Let’s not even mention exits, elections, and the every-which-way-but-our-way bounce of the ball against Italy and Wales.

Let’s rather focus our energies on the one unchanging truth about the state of the world we live in: It changes. Not by itself, of course, which is the big challenge and opportunity presented by the new year that lies waiting in the wings.

In the meantime, it’s time to take breather with this issue of The Comet, bringing you news, views, and insights from the the world of BrightRock and beyond.

We bring you a fresh take on current affairs with Alec Hogg’s eye-opening look at just why the world changed so much in 2016; we put a new spin that old fable about the little chicken who thought the sky was falling; and we tell you what you need to know about planning the holiday of a lifetime.

Speaking of which, here’s wishing you a wonderful one, whether you’re staying at home or heading for faraway shores. Safe travels, a healthy and happy festive season, and see you again in 2017!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Breaking the Final Taboo of Marriage

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Love and romance may lead you to the altar, but a happy and healthy relationship will depend on your ability to share your thoughts on the ultimate taboo. Money. For richer or for poorer, here’s why you need to talk about it.

Whether you marry for love or money, sooner or later you’re going to have to sit down and talk about money. It’s the single biggest issue in any marriage, and talking about it an open and healthy way may be the best opportunity you have to keep love and romance aglow.

Marriage is a contract between kindred souls, bonded as one by love, trust, respect, and understanding.

What more do you need, beyond the dreamy shared gaze, the glittering band of gold, the echoes of “I do” that invite the happy couple to seal their magical moment with a kiss? Well, for one thing, you need a good lawyer.

For all the romance we associate with marriage, it is also a legal proposition, calling on both parties to choose whether to share or divide their possessions in the event that the glitter wears off.

“You need to plan for divorce before you get married,” says Kirsty Bisset, entrepreneur and blogger. “Marriage, without all the fluffy stuff, is a transaction. It’s a binding agreement to spend the rest of your life with somebody.”

That may come as a jolt to those of us who believe in the fluffy stuff, but as Kirsty made clear during a BrightRock Iris Session, hosted by David O’Sullivan, people change.

And so may your feelings for each other, 10 or 20 years down the line, which is why it’s good to have those “healthy and happy conversations” while you still can.

The chief subject, of course, being money, and how you should divide your worldly goods in the event of an irretrievable breakdown.

Psychologist Dorianne Weil, who also took part in the Iris Session, calls these “courageous conversations”, and argues that they’re not really about money after all.

“It’s really about what’s mine and what’s yours. It’s about power struggles. The mindset is me and you, not us. The money becomes the natural scapegoat.”

Dorianne, known as Dr D on radio, also believes that people don’t fall in love, as they do in the movies: “You fall in lust, and you grow in love,” she says. “The fantasies that you have are almost always positive, you’re making decisions that are going to last the rest of your life, very often without even knowing anything about the person.”

A good and lasting marriage depends on what Dorianne calls the Platinum Rule, which is: “Do unto others as they would have you do unto them.”

But for attorney Aleisha Oliver, the third member of the panel, marriage is more than a relationship; it’s a regime. And it’s very important for the parties to choose the “marital regime” that will best govern their finances: an ante-nuptial contract with community of property, or out of community of property, with or without accrual.

Either way, says Aleisha, there must be equal communication, and equal respect at the heart of the negotiation.

“Money is at the root of problems, 80 to 90 per cent of the time.”

Kirsty agrees, which is why, every few months, she sits down with her husband, Barry, to discuss finances over a glass of wine and an Excel spreadsheet.

“Money is always a huge issue between two people, so we’ve kept the conversation very open. We have access to each other’s bank accounts. You need to meet each other halfway.”

For Dorianne, healthy communication is the key to a healthy marriage. “You go into marriage with hope and an open mind,” she says. “You want security, you want friendship, you want continuity, some shared interest, kindness, concern for the other person, respect. Marriage isn’t the icing on the cake. It’s the nourishing fruit-cake underneath.”

How you choose to divide that cake can make all the difference to the way your marriage thrives and prospers, for the good of both parties.

But it isn’t easy: “It’s hard work,” says Dorianne. “You have to keep asking yourself, what if? You have to face up to certain realities. You have to sit down and talk about your hopes, dreams, and intentions.”

And if you get that right, if you manage to find what Dorianne calls the balance between closeness and intrusion, space and distance, you’ll have more than enough time to celebrate the fluffy stuff – the love and romance – that brought you together in the first place.

*For more advice and insight on making the most of your marriage and your money, visit the Change Exchange, our breezy online portal for everything you need to know about the Big Change Moments in life: Tying the Knot, Starting a Family, Landing That Job, and Making a Home.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

A Warm Summer Welcome to The Comet

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It’s that time of the year again, when you take a quick look at your calendar or your phone, and you ask yourself, with a jolt: “Where did the year go?”

Time has a way of fleeting by without us even noticing, but don’t worry, because there’ll be another year along soon.

In the meantime, now would be a good time to take a deep breath and marshall your energies before the headlong rush towards 2017 begins in earnest. Are you ready? Good!

In this issue of The Comet, your guide to the world of BrightRock and beyond, we bring you advice on saving happily ever in your marriage, tips on renovating your dream home, a cautionary tale on safeguarding your identity online, and a close-up look at an innovative new trend in mobile phone technology.

We hope you enjoy this edition, and please feel free to join us on our social media channels, Twitter at @BrightRockZA, Facebook on www.facebook.com/BrightRockZA, and at our bright and breezy online portal, http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

A Very Warm Winter Welcome

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Winter is the season of seeking contentment, whether in front of a roaring log-fire, snuggled up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate and a good movie, or standing outside in a shaft of sunshine on your mid-morning break.

Wherever you may find it, here’s wishing you warmth, as we bring you another edition of The Comet, your guide to the world of BrightRock and beyond.

In this issue, we shine the spotlight on how to teach your children the value of financial savvy, as our financial guru, Maya Fisher-French, shares her experiences of the difference between needs and wants.

We also bring you a little-known tale of a chance meeting between Nelson Mandela and a former Vietcong general, that helped to shift South Africa’s economic policy in the early years of our young democracy. And we give you the gift of music too, in the form of a 10-song playlist of the very best in South African music.

We hope you enjoy this edition, and please feel free to join us on our social media channels, Twitter at @BrightRockZA, Facebook on www.facebook.com/BrightRockZA, and at our bright and breezy online portal, http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

Hakuna Matata

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Sometimes, on your journey through life, a molehill can feel like a mountain. But if you’ve got an expert to guide you on the way, it will mean no worries. By Gus Silber

I was in a little town called Dodoma, which is the capital of Tanzania, although I bet you thought that was Dar es Salaam. I certainly did.

Either way, Dodoma is a neat town with a languid charm and a sure sense of its place in the world. It reminded me of Bloemfontein.

My hotel was across the road from the railway station, so I ambled onto the platform and spent some time gazing up and down the rails. Nothing. I asked a man in a porter’s uniform when the train to Dar es Salaam would be leaving. “Tuesdays,” he replied.

There is not much to do in Dodoma, but the one must-do on my list was: climb Lion Rock. I could see it in the distance, a  heap of boulders wearing scraggle on its face, like a beard.

It commanded the plain with the lazy loftiness of the monarch from which it took its name, so in the late afternoon, I strolled across the level crossing and approached a group of tuktuk drivers who were sitting in the shade of a big indaba tree.

There was a brief squabble over orders of priority, and I waited until the dust had settled. Then I said to the winning driver, who was wearing a Man United shirt, “Lion Rock, please”.

He lifted his sunglasses from his eyes and squinted unknowingly. I had picked up a little Swahili from watching The Lion King, so I said, “Simba Rock, please.”

But that didn’t work either, so I Googled on my phone and showed him the picture. “Ah,” he said, “Mlimwa!”

I hopped into the back of the shiny black tuktuk, so called because that’s the noise it made as it motored three-wheelingly down the highway, overtaken by bikes and bicycles and brightly-decorated daladalas, the dilly-dallying minibus taxis of Tanzania.

The rock loomed as we turned onto a dirt road, and then it stopped looming as my driver tuktukked past at speed, and I realised I should have made myself clear. “Stop, please!” I said, “I want to climb!”

So he stopped, and he seemed lost as the engine idled, and we both looked up at Mlimwa. The sun was slowly slipping from the sky, so I thought, maybe I should just snap a picture and move on.

But then a man strode into frame, tall, distinguished, greying, his shoes covered with a fine layer of bush-dirt. He raised his hand in greeting, and had a leisurely conversation with my driver, embellished with gestures towards the rock and bouts of deep, earthy laughter.

Then he turned to me in the back and said, “Good people come here.” He pointed at me. “And bad people come here too.” He pointed at the lonely landscape, with its trees and shrubs and boulders offering many places to hide.

He said he would accompany me to the top of Mlimwa for – he thought about it – 10,000 Tanzanian Shillings. About 70 South African Rand. I hesitated, because, well, he had drawn a line, and how could I be sure on which side of it he stood? So he dropped the price by half.

“Come,” he said. “You, me, and the driver. We make safari.” That lovely Swahili word. It means: to journey with a purpose.

Our guide introduced himself as Mr Leonard Magige, and he led the way at a pace so brisk that I battled to keep up. The tuktuk driver stared at his mobile as he walked, listening to the squawl of an American R&B number.

The ground was flat and studded with pebbles, and then the pebbles grew, and I was making my way up them one by one, grasping onto tree branches for balance. I was wearing the wrong shoes.

My soles were slithering on the rocks, slipping into the narrow crevices. Mr Magige looked back, without stopping, and made a downward gesture with his hand.

“Pole pole,” he said, with a laugh. Slowly slowly. Except he wasn’t going pole pole. “How much further?” I asked, out of interest.

He zig-zagged between boulders, as if he was tap-dancing on a stairway, and he uttered a phrase that once, would have needed translation. “Hakuna matata.”

We reached the First Station, a gently sloping table of rock alongside an old water reservoir. Both rock and reservoir were stained with graffiti.

“How many stations are there?” I asked, after I had chased down and caught what was left of my breath. “Just two,” said Mr Magige, and we climbed and climbed. I was wearing the wrong clothes too. The moody clouds opened, and the rain began to fall.

Whipped by drizzle, drenched with sweat, I stood on the top of Mlimwa, as Mr Magige pointed out the town in the valley and the mountains far beyond. A smile played across his face as he surveyed his domain.

He told me that he climbs the rock every day, in the morning or in the evening. I am happy to say that I, too, climbed Mlimwa, once.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

A South African Playlist You’ve Got to Love

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A playlist of tracks that prove the rich diversity and power of our home-grown music.

South African music rocks. And pops, and kicks, and jams, and sings, and dances.

We all know this, because humankind began right here at the edge of the continent, and music is one of the things that makes us human.

No-one needs an excuse to switch on South African music and pump up the volume, but it’s always good to have an occasion that calls for a celebration.

In this case, it’s the SABC’s landmark decision to institute a 90% SA music policy on its radio stations. So here’s our playlist, in no particular order, to get the party started.

“Mannenberg” by Abdullah Ibrahim. Salty as the Atlantic sea-breeze, this bittersweet jazz-suite exquisitely captures the joys and pains of life on the southern tip.

Set to a relentless and mesmerising Marabi rhythm, its only lyrics are a defiant cry of resilience: “Julle kan maar New York toe gaan, maar ons bly hier in Mannenberg!”

 

Take Yours, I’ll take Mine” by Matthew Mole. A finger-plucking-good, deliriously infectious banjo-pop anthem that will reel around in your head for days.

“Lisa se Klavier” by Koos Kombuis. Koos, real name Andre Le Toit, made up a name for himself during the Voëlvry Alternatiewe Afrikaner music revolution of the 1980s.

This is his masterpiece, an achingly sublime piano-and-guitar ballad that beautifully evokes the melancholy introspection of the darkest hour before the dawn.

“Joy” by The Soil. When you get right down to it, there are really only two types of songs: songs of longing, and songs of jubilation.

This is one of the latter, a blissful acapella hymn in three-part harmony, swimming with upbeat energy and serving as a reminder that the roots of contemporary pop lie deeply embedded in the broad church of Gospel.

“Moonwalk Away” by Goldfish. One giant leap for South African electronic dance music, this quirky club hit pays tribute to the first lunar landing with a fusion of synthesised beats and soundbites from Mission Control, overlaid with a soaring, spaced-out vocal in no known earthly language.

“Christopher” by Nakhane Touré. A giddy, light-headed love-song that glides to a pan-African beat and a joyous falsetto vocal, by a young Johannesburg artist who is crossing boundaries at home and abroad.

“Nkalakatha”, by Mandoza. Pump this thumping, swaggering  kwaito track into the air in any South African setting, from a rugby stadium to a suburban braai to an election rally, and you’ll have an instant party on your hands, as well as a number of objectors yelling at you to switch it off, because they’ve heard it a million times before.

But then they too will throw their hands up and slide into the groove. This, after all, is our alternative National Anthem.

“Rain Rain Beautiful Rain” by Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Rain is heaven’s music, and this lovely song, by the isicathamiya group who made Paul Simon famous, is a prayer and a celebration, straight from the heart and straight to the soul.

“Pluto (Remember You)” by DJ Clock and Beatenberg. This easygoing, trip-stepping pop song ebbs and flows with the buoyancy of an ocean wave, seducing a variety of South African musical styles into its hypnotic slipstream.

“Weeping” by Bright Blue. A hymn of social conscience from a time of “fear and fire and guns”, this 80s classic carries the spirit of hope in its sweeping, plaintive melody, as it builds up to the subtle shimmer of a refrain from Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika.

*For further exploration, tune into “Tune Me What”, a podcast of the best of South African music, presented by Brett Lock and Leon Lazarus. http://tunemewhat.com.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

A Lesson for Life in the Little Karoo

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The world turns at a different pace in the middle of nowhere, where a stranger, for a change, is someone you can trust. A true story of a chance transaction. By Gus Silber

I had always known there was a little town called Ladismith, which I had naturally assumed to be an incorrect spelling of Ladysmith.

The town with the proper spelling, of course, is in north-west KwaZulu-Natal.

The town with the slight mistake, I can now reveal, is in the Klein Karoo region of the Western Cape province, just off the R62 between Montagu and Calitzdorp. It is a long way, and at some point you have to stop to fill up and get something to eat. So we stopped in Ladismith.

There is a petrol station in the main street, which appears to be the main attraction in Ladismith, judging from the number of cars and bakkies that were there. A storm was about to break, the sun forcing its way through barrages of rolling cloud to paint the light in a silvery glow.

There were three flags flying on tall masts, their lanyards clinking in the gusts, a French and a British and a South African. The rainbow flag was threadbare and serrated at the edges, as if it had been rescued from a battle.

I strolled across the road, waiting for the schoolchildren on their bicycles to pass, and I walked into a shop called Karoo Vine, which had a giant green bottle of wine as its monument, and a chalkboard advertising Wyn Wine Port Olywe Olives Cheese Kaas Nuts Biltong. I wasn’t really looking to buy. I just wanted to stretch my legs a little.

The lady behind the counter looked up and greeted me with a tra-la-la of the purest Afrikaans I had heard in a long time. “Vriendelike welkom, Meneer,” she said, sticking prices on goods with slim, elegant fingers, “en hoe gaan dit met U vandag?”

I was taken aback for a moment, because the default in-store greeting in the city where I come from is an icy glare and a thin-lipped nod that lets you know you’ve just been profiled as a potential shoplifter. Then I regained my composure and answered the lady in the purest Afrikaans I could muster.

“Nee, dit gaan baie goed, dankie, Mevrou, en met U?”

We had a brief conversation about where I had travelled from and what I was doing in Ladismith, and then she gestured at the shelves and invited me to make myself at home. I felt like buying something after all.

I picked a packet of droë perskes and a dried peach roll and some Karoo biltong, and I took them to the counter and put them down.

The lady smiled her thanks and added up the tally, which was R54 exactly. I handed her my credit card. Her shoulders sank, and she sadly shook her head.

“O, ek is jammer, Meneer, maar ons neem nie kaartjies nie.” She pointed at a small sign saying Jammer Geen Kaarte No Cards Accepted on the side of the cash register.

I did not have any cash on me, so I smiled my apologies and turned around to put the goods back on the shelves. Then she quickly added: “Maar U is baie welkom om met ‘n EFT te betaal, Meneer.”

I suddenly forgot the Afrikaans for “really”, and I said, “really?” She laughed and said people who came to her shop from afar often paid her by Electronic Funds Transfer, and in all the time she had been running the shop, she had never once had someone not pay her after promising that they would. “Really?” I said.

And she wrote down her bank details on a small piece of paper, with R54 and her name, which was Elsa, and her cellphone number below.

She wrapped up the perskes and the peaches and the biltong and wished me ‘n wonderlike dag en ‘n veilige reis verder.

I walked out into the main street of Ladismith, in the Klein Karoo, between Montagu and Calitzdorp, and I saw the rainbow flag flying, and the clouds passing overhead. And I thought to myself, this is a good place, with good people. And I wasn’t just thinking about Ladismith.

*In case you’re wondering, yes, I did EFT Elsa the R54 when I got back to Johannesburg.

** The opinions expressed in this piece are the writer’s own and don’t necessarily reflect the views of BrightRock.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

Enjoy the View!

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Set against the majestic backdrop of Table Mountain, Newlands is the rugby stadium with the best view in the world. All the more so when you’re watching the DHL Stormers or DHL Western Province in full force on their home turf.

Now the view is even brighter, with the BrightRock logo proudly displayed on the team jersey. BrightRock’s official associate sponsorship of the DHL Stormers and DHL Western Province is a milestone in the history of the company, and we’re delighted to celebrate it in this edition of The Comet.

So sit back and enjoy the view, as we bring you news and views from inside our world and beyond.

We’ve got Alec Hogg with a fresh perspective from Davos, Maya Fisher-French on the connection between road-running and money-saving, a list of hearty reasons to fall in love with South Africa, a guide to taking great photographs with your smartphone, and more.

Thanks for joining us, and you’re very welcome too to engage with us on our social media channels, Twitter, Facebook  and at our bright and breezy online portal, The Change Exchange.

 

Feedback from clients and brokers for BrightRock stars

“This is what our clients pay premiums for, excellent world class service. Well done to all concerned.”

“Caryn Tibshirany is an absolute wonder to work with! Nothing is too much, she always has time, she explains in detail and she goes beyond what is expected to help.”

“The client is also over the moon with his dealings with the claims person at Brightrock, who he says really cares and is like a friend.”

“Thank you Omar, you are truly a special person. Thank you for what you have done for me, I appreciate all your help.”

“Just want to say thank you for your assistance here. Everything was done so quick on this case. We submitted the case on Friday and it was issued yesterday. Impressive!”

“The extra mile you have gone for me is definitely not unnoticed and is greatly appreciated!”

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online platform by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

You’re Welcome!

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Editors notes
Hello, and a very warm welcome to this edition of The Comet, your online guide to what’s new at BrightRock and beyond.

To start with, some bright tidings: we’re very pleased to tell you that The Comet was judged Best Electronic Newsletter of 2015 at the annual awards of the South African Publication Forum, an industry platform for promoting and improving corporate publications.

We’re honoured by this acknowledgement. To you, our Comet community, thank you for reading!

In this issue, we bring you news of three bold new product enhancements from BrightRock, as we celebrate the landmark achievement of R100-billion in cover in force.

You’ll also find a handy guide to earning extra cash, a report on a new revolution in expatriate rocking habits, a how-to on streaming music on your phone and computer, and more.

Happy reading, and please join us on our social media channels, Twitter at @BrightRockZA, Facebook on www.facebook.com/BrightRockZA, and at our bright and breezy online portal, http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Life is a Golden Line

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Learning to love change means learning to accept and embrace imperfection. By Gus Silber

WE ARE SHAPED BY WHAT WE LEARN, MOULDED BY WHAT WE EXPERIENCE, AND SOMETIMES THE LINES WE SEE IN THE MIRROR TAKE US BY SURPRISE, BUT THEY ARE THE LINES THAT CHANGE AND DEFINE US.

THEY ARE GOLDEN LINES.

It was my turn to put away the dishes, and I was down to the last bowl, a glaze of white porcelain with a chain of little daisies around the crown.

I opened the crockery cupboard with my left hand, and then the phone in my pocket rang, and I hovered for a moment between two competing impulses. The first was, someone’s calling me? On my phone? It must be important. The second was, let it go to voicemail. It can wait.

In Japan, it is a tradition not to throw away things that are broken, but to pick up the pieces and seal them to each other with a resinous lacquer, dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.

In the process, the thing is born anew, and it wears its scars with pride, the burnish of a fractured beauty that displays the provenance of its imperfections to the world. We bin our broken crockery, or attempt to suture it with Superglue, in the vain hope that nobody will notice.

But to run your finger across a seam of gold, to trace its delicate meander, is to realise the gifts that are carried in the river of time.

We are shaped by what we learn, moulded by what we experience, and sometimes the lines we see in the mirror take us by surprise, but they are the lines that change and define us. They are the golden lines.

There is another word in Japanese, a word for which there is no English equivalent: wabi-sabi.

It is an aesthetic that accepts and embraces the transient, the roughly-hewn, the off-kilter, the anomaly of process.

A ceramic bowl that has a thumb-indented kink in its curve, a vase that shows a hairline crack that shadows the stem of a flower. Wabi-sabi.

We strive for zero defect in everything we do, but in the striving, we open ourselves up to the possibility – the inevitability – of imperfection.

The defects lead us on a detour, a U-turn, that drive us to try again. The goal is perfection; the journey is acceptance. It is not an easy road to travel.

John Lennon hated the sound of his own voice. Van Gogh couldn’t stand Starry Night. Leonardo never got around to finishing the Mona Lisa. In the flaws they saw, we see and hear the sublime.

We are restless, agitated creatures, especially when we are trying to answer a phone while we are holding a bowl in our hands. Things break, things change, the old fades into the new.

WEAR YOUR LINES WITH WABI-SABI, MEND YOUR MISTAKES WITH GOLD, AND THE WORLD WILL BE A BETTER, WISER PLACE, BECAUSE YOU WILL HAVE LEARNED TO LOVE CHANGE.

* This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes. The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and don’t necessarily reflect the views of BrightRock.

 

A very warm welcome

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It’s Autumn, the season between seasons, the buffer between the sultry days of Summer and Winter’s merciless chill.

To use the lovely Americanism, it’s Fall, a time to take stock and reflect, in the fiery glow of the leaves that drift with the wind and carpet the ground for kids of all ages to play in.

Soon, that crispness in the air will clamp into an icy bite, and these mellow days will just be a memory of change and transition.

So settle back and take it easy with this edition of The Comet, your guide to the world of BrightRock and beyond.

We bring you advice on making the most of your money, tales of homecoming and graduation, a look at the smartest apps for your smartphone, and more. Enjoy, and stay warm!

* You’re very welcome to join us on our social media channels, on Twitter at @BrightRockZA, on Facebook on www.facebook.com/BrightRockZA, and at our bright and breezy online portal, http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za.

 

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

Graduation day

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There are moments when change shines brightly, illuminating the pathway to tomorrow. This is one of them.

By Gus Silber

 

“Oh, look,” I said, as the road unfurled before us, the waves of traffic subsiding like the waters of the Red Sea. I checked the time, which was fine, and then I looked ahead, and my heart sank as suddenly as my foot on the brake.

The intersection was a clog of cars and taxis and buses, the air thick with hooting, the upbound stream cut off by the lag of crossbound chancers trying to beat the lights.

“I told you we should have taken the other road,” said my navigator, with the benefit of always being right. To which I replied, “Yes, but if I had taken the other road, you would be saying I should have taken the other road.”

Life is full of choices, of could haves and should haves, and sometimes you just have to swing the wheel and hope someone will ease back and let you into the faster lane. Ah, thank you.

I double-pulsed my flickers and zoomed into the gap, and by the time we got to the university and had driven around and around until we found parking, the flurry of Whatsapps had turned into a frantic cascade.

“Hurry up!” “Don’t be late!” “Everyone is here already!” “How far r u?” And then, standing outside the Great Hall, with its corrugated Corinthian pillars and its giant stone arrowhead pointing to the sky, there she was, Sarah-Jane, in her black gown of academia, on Graduation Day.

Time is a comet that hurtles through the heavens, its tail ablaze with moments that flicker, dazzle, and fade into memory.

A baby, wide-eyed, reaching out to touch the galaxy of mobiles dangling over her head. A scholar in a crisp new uniform, standing proud and tall, clutching her little suitcase and flashing her gap-toothed smile on the first day of school.

A teenager, radiant in blue satin, with curls softly framing her face, holding her bouquet on the night of the Matric Farewell Dance. And now, the Honours Student, hurrying us into the hall, dashing off on her high heels with the Grecian straps – just like the pillars – to join her fellows at the back.

We found a couple of seats near the front, and I flipped through the programme, which noted, among other things, that in the event of load-shedding or power cuts, “the Great Hall may become totally dark for a few seconds until the generator comes into operation”.

A fanfare played, and a procession of Doctors and Professors, resplendent in their red gowns, filed down the aisles and onto the stage, and I thought, there is enough light and enlightenment in this place. You don’t need a generator.

The choir, in their African-print fabrics, formed two lines and broke the hush with song. “Gaudeamus igitur, juvenes dum sumus,” they sang, their voices echoing to the rafters, across the banks of time, to the Romans who bequeathed us our alphabet and the fundaments of our language.

“Let us rejoice therefore while we are young,” the song went. “After a pleasant youth and a troublesome old age, the earth will have us.” But first, the Chancellor, his cloth cap perched like a nest on his head, stood at the podium and said, “If you were worried that you wouldn’t show up today, well, here you are.”

He was talking not to us, who had battled through the traffic, but to the assembled masses, the graduandi, who today would be acknowledged with the symbols of their labour.

The Guest Speaker, a global authority on molecular taxonomy and the pathology of fungi in trees, smiled brightly, the spotlights dancing on her spectacles, as she quoted Confucius:

“If you find a job that you love, you won’t have to work a day in your life.”

She said that she was paid to have fun, which for her meant analysing complex strings of DNA that indicated fungal diseases in trees. The thing she liked most about working with trees, she said, was that they didn’t talk back. The long line of graduates, Doctors and Masters and Honours and Bachelors, walked up one by one to receive their scrolls and handshakes and pats on the head, symbols of the learning and knowledge now stored within.

In-between applauding, I flipped through the programme. So many smart people, lifting us up by degrees. Chawane; Cook; Cronk; Dube; Goldfein; Makgoba; Moodley; Pretorius; Ramabulana; Sikhosana… and then, we applauded louder, and even whooped a little, and I held up my phone in landscape mode and shot a short video.

Outside, more photographs on the steps of the Great Hall, and we got back in the car, with Sarah-Jane, BSc, sitting in the back, and ahead of us, bright and clear and shining, the road to the future.

 

* This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes. The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and don’t necessarily reflect the views of BrightRock.

 

You’re welcome!

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Remember 2015? Thirty years ago, in Back to the Future II, it was the destination Marty McFly hitched a ride to the future in a flying DeLorean sedan.

That yesterday vision of a distant tomorrow turned out to be not very much like today. We have no hoverboards, no jet-mobiles, no self-lacing sneakers, no holographic billboards, no Litter Bugs (friendly little robotic trashcans that follow you round).

And yet, the real 2015, left to its own devices, turned out just fine. We have smartphones, the Internet, social media, dashcams, and working prototypes of self-driving cars that are much more practical than the hovering variety.

So what will the world look like, 30 years from now? Never mind the technology. It’s the humanity that counts, and that’s where we really have a chance to change things for the better.

Thanks for hopping aboard this edition of The Comet. Now let tomorrow begin!

Please join us on Twitter, at @BrightRockZA, on Facebook and at our bright and breezy online portal, the Change Exchange.

 

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

A Holiday Welcome

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Hello, and a very warm and bright welcome to your year-end edition of The Comet, now with extra Comet. By which we mean not just one of the trusty reindeer who helped Father Christmas get to his interview with Ruda Landman on time, but also Comet 67P, on which a robot famously set foot earlier this year.

Aside from these tales, this issue also brings you handy tips on managing your budget, an especially crucial skill at this time of year, as well as a Q&A with one of South Africa’s favourite stage and screen actors, Frank Opperman.

We also offer you eye-opening insights into the way the world of work is changing, and a handy guide to the technology you need to power up and switch on when the lights go out.

If you’re going away, by wheels or plane or sleigh, travel safely and have fun. If you’re staying at home, here’s wishing you just as much of a happy, relaxing holiday at home.

From all of us at BrightRock, to all of you, enjoy the festive season, and have a bright and prosperous New Year!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

You’re Welcome!

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Editors notes
As 2014 settles into its downward trajectory, it’s up, up, and at ‘em as we get set to seize the opportunities of these last months of the year.

That’s the thing about change – it never stops moving, never slows down. The momentum can be dizzying, all the more so in a year that saw no shortage of hard news on the local and global fronts.

That’s why we’re inviting you to press Pause for a moment, and unwind with this issue of The Comet, bringing you news and views from the world of BrightRock and beyond.

Take it easy, and feel free to share your own news and views with us on Twitter, @BrightRockZA, on Facebook, and at our bright and breezy online portal, the Change Exchange.

Thank you, and enjoy!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

OLD is the NEW YOUNG

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An 80-year-old style and beauty icon? A 64-year-old Punk Rocker? A 72-year-old collaborator with Kanye and Rihanna? Age is just a stage, and you can play any part you want to on it.

 

There is a creature that lives in saltwater, a solitary predator, just big enough to be seen with the naked eye if you know what you’re looking for. Its name is Turritopsis, and it is a member of the sub-class hydrozoa, which is Greek for Serpent of the Sea.

But that’s overselling it, because it is really more of a jellyfish, a transparent bulb with a glowing orange filament and a train of quivering tendrils that look like a bad hair day. Still, this creature has one characteristic, scientists believe, that sets it apart from every other organism on land, in water or sky. It is capable of living forever.

Under stress, it can revert its cells to the genesis of its polyp stage, a process that can be recycled indefinitely, or at least until it is eaten by a fish. We humans are not so lucky. Our cells change and renew and mutate, driven by the coiled springs of our DNA, and try as we may, we cannot unwind the clock; it ticks on.

And one day, glancing in the mirror, or catching sight painter, who danced a little jig and said to the camera, “no old person ever thinks of themselves as old. Old is somebody else.” These phenomena never happen in isolation, and suddenly, everybody is somebody else, because everywhere you look, somebody old is doing something new.

There is the writer Joan Didion, dressed all in black, with big black sunglasses, the new face of Céline, in Vogue at the age of 80. There is Clint Eastwood, 84, his face as monumental as the rocks on Mount Rushmore, making a tight, taut movie about an American Sniper, his biggest box-office success in years.

There is Paul McCartney, playing the guitar and singing along with Kanye West and Rihanna, whose combined ages are still six years younger than the oldest member of their trio. But who’s counting? Of our reluctant self in someone else’s group selfie, we realise that we look a little less like our most recent passport photo, because there are faint extra crescents when we smile, and deep new ravines when we frown.

Age changes us, and little by little, change ages us. There are only two ways to deal with this annoyance: the first is to pretend that it isn’t happening, and the second is to accept that it is.

Every year, the fancy UK department store, Selfridges, hosts a celebration of promising new creative talent, artists and designers and musicians, collectively called Bright Young Things, whose job is to brighten up their display windows in Oxford Street.

But last year, just for a change, they called them Bright Old Things. There were 14 of them, ranging in age from mid-40s to mid-80s: the Punk Rocker with Parkinson’s, the optician who made spectacle-frames for jazz musicians, the stage actor turned late-life

The notion of age as a boundary that cannot or should not be crossed, as a limiter of beauty or vigour or the creative spirit, is itself old-fashioned; it belongs to another age. This age is the age of renaissance, of revival, of re-beginnings, and to argue otherwise, to measure someone’s worth based purely on how much older they are than you, is to fall victim to the silliest of all prejudices. Discrimination against your future self.

We shouldn’t even be making a big deal about it, really: it should be common wisdom, a tenet of life, that age is a stage, and you can play any part you want to on it. So good for you, Turritopsis, member of the sub-class hydrozoa, that you can reverse the process of growing older by reverting to your primordial cellular state.

We can’t do that, at least not in the physical sense, but that doesn’t matter. It’s all very well being immortal, but who, in their right state of body, mind, and spirit, wants to be a jellyfish? 

 

* This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes. The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and don’t necessarily reflect the views of BrightRock.

 

A Warm & Bright Welcome

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Hello, and welcome very warmly to this edition of The Comet, bringing you news, views, and information from the world of BrightRock.

It’s a new season, the season of change and reawakening, when the scent of jasmine fills the air, the desert blooms with rainbow blossoms, and fields of fynbos hug the mountain. But there’s more to Spring than hay fever, so put a Spring in your step and join us as we take a look at the art of money-savvy parenting, the inside secret of BrightRock’s number-crunching technology, the latest in in-car technology, how to think like Albert Einstein, and more. Stay Bright, Love Change, and enjoy!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Welcome Aboard!

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Hello, and a very warm welcome in the heart of winter, to this edition of your BrightRock vehicle for news, views, information and enlightenment from our world and beyond.

In this icy season, the spotlight shines on the quadrennial celebration of the Beautiful Game of football, this time putting Brazil at the centre of the global stage.

Was it only four years ago that we were the World Cup welcomers? That spirit of noisy bonhomie bonded our nation, and we still feel the glow today.

In this issue, we introduce to you to our own correspondent on the footballing scene, and we also focus on the secrets of financial freedom and the need to be a big dreamer in life and in business.

Keep warm, stay bright, and enjoy!

* Please feel free to join us for a chat on Twitter on Facebook and at our home on the web at www.brightrock.co.za.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Falling Into the Sky

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Life is a quest for a state of grace, a chance to find meaning in the chaos, and to learn to love the change that changes us. By Gus Silber

When I was small, one of my favourite things was to sit on a swing, push the earth away with my feet, and propel myself higher and higher, until the pendulum reached its peak.

At that point, I would lie back with my legs stretched out and my fists clenched around the chains, and I would loll my head to look at the sky.

I would imagine myself drifting, floating like a balloon, falling deeper and deeper into the blue. I was an astronaut, and the heavens were my home.

I remember learning, in Geography, I think, that the earth is in perpetual motion, and that it spins around the sun at approximately 100,000 kilometres an hour. My head spun when I heard this, and I thought to myself, how do we keep from flying away? Then I realised the gravity of the situation.

We are rooted to this place, and even when we are standing still, we are moving: shifting, growing, evolving, changing. When we are babies, the mewling infants of Shakespeare’s Seven Ages, we are the centre of the universe, and everything and everyone revolves around our needs.

Then we turn into teenagers, and we revolt against the universe, and it spins in the opposite direction, away from us. And then, one day, like falling into the sky, we fall in love, and our own selves disappear and meld into the selves of others.

Someone else becomes the centre of our universe, and our hearts beat together at 100,000 kilometres an hour. That feeling, dizzying and liberating, almost scary in its ability to command our senses and take our breath away, becomes the point of purpose for life itself.

We are forever seeking a return to that state of grace, that moment of apogee, and often it finds us when we aren’t even looking. In the chorus of a song, a line from a poem, a scene from a movie.

In the smack of leather on willow, the whoosh of a ball into the back of a net, the wash of a wave over our feet. We find it in work, in the quiet glow of a job well done, in a thing crafted and created, in small conversations and chance encounters. We find it in moments of epiphany that jolt us into steering a new course.

WE ARE BORN INTO CHANGE AND CHAOS, INTO THE MOMENTUM OF A WORLD THAT NEVER STOPS TURNING.

Our task, our opportunity, is not to tame the chaos, but to rearrange it into meaning, even if the meaning changes with each new dawn. That is what it means to be alive.

To be open to surprise and revelation. To push the swing higher and higher, to fall into the sky, and to land with both feet on the earth. To move and shift and evolve and grow, to change. And to
learn to love it, because that, for every moment that changes us and every moment we change, is why we are here.

* Gus Silber is a journalist, author, scriptwriter, speechwriter, tweetwriter, journalism & social media trainer.

** This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Hello, and Welcome!

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Greetings from Planet BrightRock, and welcome aboard The Comet, your guide to what’s new, what’s interesting, and what’s changing in our world and beyond.

In this issue, we’re happy to introduce you to our industry-first cover conversion facility, which allows you to redirect your premiums as your insurance needs change.

We’ll also be looking at why it’s sometimes good to take a break from the onrush of change, and reflect on where you’re going in life, and how to get there.

And we focus on smart technology for dumb batteries, the joys of city cycling, the secrets of getting debt-free, and more. Thank you, and enjoy the read!

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Welcome!

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Hello, and a Bright and Rocking welcome to the first issue of The Comet for 2014. Time flies like a comet, and we’re here to help you make the most of it, by giving you news, views, insights and information from inside our ever-changing world. So hop on board, and let’s talk about the silver lining in the global economy, the joys of reading, the SmartWatch revolution, the fine art of managing your budget, and more. Thank you, and enjoy!

*Please feel free to exchange views with us on Twitter, Facebook and don’t forget to visit The Change Exchange.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Welcome!

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Blazing a trail across the friendly skies and into your inbox, we’re very pleased to welcome you to Issue Three of our online magazine, bringing you news, views, tips and tales from the world of BrightRock and beyond.

Enjoy, and please join us on our social media channels on Twitter, Facebook and at our bright and breezy online portal, The Change Exchange.

If you’re new to The Comet, pleased to meteor – it’s great to have you on board.

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Welcome!

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Blazing a trail across the friendly skies and into your inbox, we’re very pleased to welcome you to Issue Two of our online magazine, bringing you news, views, tips and tales from the world of
BrightRock and beyond. If you’re new to The Comet, pleased to meteor – it’s great to have you on board. Enjoy, and please join us on our social media channels on Twitter, Facebook and at our bright and breezy online portal, The Change Exchange

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.

 

 

Welcome to the BrightSide!

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We’re very pleased to bid you a Bright and Rocking welcome to our first newsletter, bringing you news, views, and useful information from the world of BrightRock and beyond.

Our goal is to enlighten you, keep you up to date on trends and developments, make life insurance easier to understand, and even brighten your day in the process. Take it easy, and feel free to share your own news and views with us on Twitter, @BrightRockZA, on Facebook, and at our bright and breezy online portal, the Change Exchange.

 

This article first appeared in The Comet, an online newsletter by BrightRock, provider of the first-ever life insurance that changes as your life changes.