CRY FOR MY BELOVED S A

This morning I was watching a news insert on the ANC Youth League on E News - their elections are coming up. Rewind to the 50s' when the Mandelas/Mbeksi/Sisulus and other young bloods of the ANCYL were passionate and commited to a cause - to liberate South Africa and create a free and fair democracy for all. They were imprisoned for their beliefs, tortured, separated from loved ones, fled their homeland and yet they never lost sight of the dream.  Fast forward to 2011 and we have the ilk of Julius Malema whose mouth unfortunately engages long before his brain does and who keeps separatism, fear and racism alive and kicking. We have images of the youth screaming into the cameras, demanding this that and the other, like they are entitled. Daily the media is filled with stories of corruption, greed, of self-serving politicians and civil servants misappropriating, misusing and misspending funds etc at all levels of our government while so many millions suffer. The scale of it sometimes takes your breath away. It has become like an enormous black hole that is simply sucking up the light of this beloved country of mine. I love this country. I am a "Seffrican" through and through. I'm a "braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies and Chevrolet" girl  - OK, maybe not the first two :-) I use phrases like Ag Shame, I want to kiss strangers in foreign countries if I hear them speak Afrikaans and I almost, but not quite, kiss the soil whenever I return home.  I don't want to live anywhere else. I believe in it, I know we can be great, I know the pendulum will swing the other way eventually. But sometimes it is challenging to remain positive when all I want to do is slap those arrogant, smug, self-centered individuals who care not one jot for those they are here to serve and are only interested in feathering their own nests. The word ACCOUNTABILITY just does not exist in our SA vocabulary. When I climb into my warm bed at night after enjoying a hot meal and I think of all those living in unspeakable conditions, desperate for some semblance of a normal life; whose daily existence is one of just trying to survive another day;  when I receive emails with "wishlists" from township schools needing basics like desks, stationery, chairs, when beggars greet me at almost every street corner, I want to weep. I also feel so GUILTY - the curse of "The Haves"? This morning, finally, I did. It was as though the pain and the hurt of this majestic, beautiful, dynamic, tragic country and it's rainbow nation hit me like a ton of bricks. I cried for my beloved country. Really cried.

But tears are healing and I shall pick myself up, wipe my face and carry on making a difference, one person at a time. Sometimes it is good just to acknowledge how you really feel and let it flow. Ja well no fine, the journey of life goes on. Africa, as they say, is not for sissies! Amandla!

LIFE VIEWED HORIZONTALLY

I hate being sick. I know that the times I get REALLY sick (like now) my body is sending me a very strong message. My fifth day in bed. But sometimes you just have to surrender to the reality of what is instead of raging against it. It seems I am not as healthy as I think I am, because this flu just ain't shifting. It has been a great exercise in patience and I have spent a lot of time lying, looking out the window watching the changing light as the hours pass. The vervet monkeys racing across the lawn for the trees, squabbling and playing, dogs snoozing in the winter sun. The four cats gravitate towards the bed, although I am sure that is more for the hot water bottle than it is for me. It is now that you really appreciate your health. When you don't have it. I try and imagine what it must be like to have a chronic, ongoing illness. When every day is a struggle against pain, when every movement is an effort, when you live with the fear that this vehicle that carries you through life may let you down and fail. My own illness seems to pale into comparison when I think of that. I am fascinated at the body's ability to produce mucus, it is never-ending. If I could produce money like this I would be a millionaire! 5 days in bed. I wonder where I would be if I had insisted on dragging myself around, as so many of us seem to do, sneezing and coughing over all and sundry, sighing and wheezing. What is it in us that makes us keep on going when the body is shouting out "STOP"! I learnt a long time ago not to ignore what my body wants. A lengthy illness like this means time to relook at the way I am living, where I am doing too much, what I need to let go of or change. Yup, life viewed horizontally for a while, when you are not in the mainstream flow of "doing" can be an interesting experience. You have time to think, sleep and "be" in the moment. There always is a reason for everything.

THE REBELLION OF WOMEN....

I smell rebellion in the air. Women are rebelling at the mundaneness of everyday life. At how their wildness and free spirits have been chained and curbed and lost under a deluge of "to-do" lists, grocery lists and evening meals (who did decide that we were put on this earth to cook and clean for others?) They yearn to be whisked away on a golden steed preferably by a golden boy who would feed them Belgian chocolate and pink Moet Chandon. He would declare how he adored them, would pander to their every whim and expect NOTHING in return (not even sex if they were not of the mind for it). However if he was golden and gorgeous perhaps some long distant memory would stir DOWN THERE - who knew! They would lie under cool palm trees watching an endless turquoise sea with soft white sand and cold exotic drinks (with pink umbrellas of course), dreaming their dreams and watching mermaids and dolphins play. When the mood takes them they would plunge into the cool blue waters and discover hidden worlds, where octopus wave from dark caves as they drift by. They would catch tides with turtles and the sun would be shining down through the water, shafts of silvery light dancing amongst the turquoise current; sparkles of light that catch the eye. Lazy whales wink as they float by, their song echoing through the ocean.
(I wrote this after several emails with a friend of mine, where we were bemoaning the fact that the daily routines of life, especially married life,  impinge on our desire to be fabulous and creative.)

SACRED SPACE

Every woman should have a special space in her home. No matter how tiny, she has to have it. No discussion. No "yes but". The end of a bookcase, a small round table. If she is really lucky, a whole room. Mine is an oak desk. We bought it years ago with our round dining room table. It's supposed to be my writing space (I kind of fancy myself as a writer) but over time, as I have accumulated more "stuff", space for writing grows less! You look at this table and you will have a sense of who I am. On the wall is the angel of Heaven & Earth that Sanna painted for me. Whirls of colour - delicate pinks, mauves, violets, deeper blues and greens, she sits perched on the world. I remember how envious I was of the angel painting she did for Alex. Bright explosions of fuschia and silver in hers. Funny how we are never satisfied. Then there are the photos of the Temple of the Inner Heart at Temenos in Macgregor that I had framed. How I loved that space sitting bathed in beautiful blue light. Underneath that the poster I made at the Artist's Way course - Treating Myself Like a Precious Object Will Make Me Strong. My silver coptic cross, a gift from Jan, I think it's from Ethiopia. Centre stage on the table is the large pewter Buddha Jeannette and the kids brought me back from Thailand. Around his neck is the cord from the spell we did for finding balance in life (hmm, the jury is still out on the success of that one ha ha!) as well as the Buddhist cords from Michael & Tamasine's wedding down in Robertson that were given to each guest. Various crystals and Ganesh sit around Buddha. There is Mother Mary rubbing shoulders with a glass angel, a Gandolf lookalike and the beautiful glass unicorn Pat gave me. A soap angel from Nan, the fairy Dephne, one of our staff, gave me for my birthday, the fairy Cleo gave me after the crystal workshop I did for Abby and her friends. Mosaic butterfly and mosaic heart with our photos in, both Abby's handiwork. My divine Fantasia doll Jo and Abby made for my 50th, complete with blue hair and purple cape! The little box filled with "treasures" from Earth Connections in Cornwall. The "wild woman" little circular pot Laina gave me when I became a Reiki Master. My bear shaped azurite crystal that actually sits up like a bear. My velvet bag of sacred objects from my days with the Aquarian Foundation & their logo picture. A little happy Buddha whose tummy is smooth from being rubbed. A clay angel I made and never got around to painting. The little box which holds all the little cards filled with messages from my 50th party, perfect to read through on bad hair days! A dragon, cystals, selenite balls. The two solid silver tea light holders John bought me, other assorted rocks I have collected over time. The mirror Tami made. All have some kind of significance or are connected to people and family I know and love. I won't even start on the journals, the books, notebools, crayons and paper that fill the drawers!

Yes every woman should have her own space. As I look at the fairy lounging in the aromatherapy candle holder, at Fantasia's blue hair and purple cloak decked with silver sequins, I see not a varied assortment of stuff - I see love and caring and gifts chosen with great care. I see memories and I remember good times and even though some of these things are cheap, their value to me is beyond money. They hold the intention of the giver, they hold memories of a life that has, until now, been surprisingly varied and full. The table has become a space when I can just be, a space that soothes the soul and quietens the mind. Life is a series of events and happenings, some fleeting, some you try and hold onto as long as you can, trying to grasp each of the strands as they float around you. But they leave and you are left with the memories and this odd assortment of items that, when you look at them, bring a stirring and a warmth to the heart. Looking at that table, which is so much more than a table, it is a tapestry of my life and I suddenly realise how colourful and varied it has been, how loved I have been and how loved I am. For a brief moment I soak up that feeling. I pause from the busyness of life and silently let my gaze touch on each treasured and special item. I feel comforted and content and very blessed. I am grateful for all the experiences of my life that have combined to bring me to this point. It is as if the world stops, holds it breath, while I appreciate all of this. It is so still, apart from the birdsong. Soon I need to get up and get on with life but now, just for this moment, I am at peace.

Yes, every woman should have a special space that is just for her. No matter how tiny, she has to have it.

FAMILY LIFE

Have just returned from visitng my Mum, sister and niece down in Hermanus. We spent a hilarious afternoon going through old photos and albums including Mum's wedding album.
You tend to forget that your parents were young and glamorous once, that they had a life outside
being your Mum and Dad. Dad looked so dashing with his slicked back hair and fancy suits. Mum was slim and trim and beautiful - life together lay before them filled with potential and opportunities. So different from the person I see today. My Mum seems to shrink every time I see her. My sister and I hosed ourselves at our teen pics and we both wondered why we ever thought we were fat! I remember when I was bridesmaid at my sister's wedding. I absolutely hated my pale blue bridesmaid dress - I thought I looked like an elephant in it and could not wait to get it off. Now when I see this gorgeous, slender, dark haired beauty I could kick myself! Such a waste! I look at holidays of myself in a bikini, long dark hair, tanned, slim - hell, whose legs are those??? What a babe!! Sad that so many women spend so much of their youth criticising and hating their looks, starving themselves and loathing everything about their bodies. Hindsight is a wonderful thing!

CREATING MY REALITY

My beautiful dog Bella, one of five that we own, sleeps inside these days due to a degenerative hip problem that worsens as she gets older. She is very good about waking me in the night when she needs to go outside for a pee, luckily usually only once in the night! Recently my hubby was away on business and I went out, getting home around 8.00pm. I noticed the dogs were acting a little weird. Not agitated or barking, but they kept looking in one direction and my one big male, Felix, kept sniffing around the steps. Living in the bush I assumed one or other wild animal had been visiting close to the house. When I went inside my cats were also acting a bit odd. When I fed them they kept staring towards the lounge as they ate, jumping if I made a sudden movement or noise. Again I checked around but could find nothing wrong. Shrugging it off I made my own dinner, watched TV (my one night where I can take control of the remote!) and then went to bed. When Bella woke me to let her out, instead of coming straight back in, she started barking. I called her in and we both went back to our beds. As I lay there, this thought came into my mind from nowhere. Attached to nothing. "You are the master manifestor. Create the space you want to live in." That was it. Nothing more. I lay there, thinking about my animals and their uneasiness. I consciously began to breathe in the peace, and the protection of the Creator and I sent that out into my home and property. I called on Archangel Michael and I could feel things beginning to settle. I went back to sleep.

The following morning when the staff arrived Dinah, my right hand woman and long term housekeeper came upstairs and asked me if I had seen the window in the lounge. The previous night we had an attempted break-in. The window had been forced open and the burglar bars broken off. That's what had spooked the animals. I must have disturbed them when I arrived home. I went upstairs and sat quietly, thinking back about the "message" I had received. Before I knew about the break-in and long after it had happened. Hubby and I both decided a long time ago not to suck in negativity or fear. But I realized that we also did not consciously create the reality we wanted to live in. It was almost like driving in neutral in a car, you can be pushed in either direction and you don't really have any control. By not consciously creating the space we wanted to inhabit, we were allowing this kind of thing into our lives. As I always do now, when these kind of situations happen I went to A Course in Miracles and randomly opened the Lessons. It was 255 - This Day I Choose to Spend in Perfect Peace. I was overwhelmed as the realization of the enormity of the gift I had been given, by whoever was here the night before, dawned on me. I was actually able to sit down and say "thank you" to whoever it was. And to the Creator who had shown me what needed fine-tuning. I was also so very grateful that I did not discover it the night before, because I know I would not have slept a wink!!

That's how our guidance comes sometimes. Quietly, in the dead of night, when you least expect it, with no fanfares or bells and whistles, just a tiny precious thought that reminds you of the magnificence of who you really are.