The night sky is a scattering of seeds of light.

I refer to another blog of mine written two months ago “My Internal Space Another Country”. Where my last words were “I have been heard” and have I! The power of “imageneering” and being the architect of your own world by using feelings and clear visualisation is staggering. I have brought to me exactly what I wanted… Views from a Mountain across the ocean in a wild place. Perched on stilts in my wooden cottage I feel like a Queen.

I found myself growing down today as I tramped the mountain hopping from one rock to another. When the night began to fall, and the chill that began sinking into me, I grudgingly went back home. I became aware of the very same feeling of being called in for the night when I was a child. That lovely memory of feeling free and loving this world as a child, and wanting as much of it as I can, had me smiling.

I have marvelled at the rock formations here. Sculpture that only mother earth can create – and of how very tiny I am actually. Scarborough mountains, and most of the region were once beneath the sea. The pock marked rounded eddies of water erosion is evident everywhere. It is also so still…I have spotted fynbos and grasses that I have never seen, and fat black shiny lizards common to this region are abound.

As evening set in, I glanced above me and gasped - the night sky was a clear scattering of seeds of light.

I might have found home…

The stillness of the oceans roar crashed through me

When I speak of stillness I refer to the absence of man made noises and that includes speech. I have found a new space to walk and live and be the free spirit that I am. My brief sojourn in the city had me aching for this.

One of the first days of being here in Scarborough I wandered down to the furthest point where fences keep us out of the Cape of Good Hope nature reserve. I sat down – not a soul in sight that I could perceive. And the stillness of the oceans roar crashed through me. There is something particular too of the ocean retreating over rocks and the music it makes that lulled me. I sat for sometime and began to be aware of the roar within. I have been holding so much in check of late. Not allowing my fears to surface, ignoring them. I saw then in a very slamming way of how unnatural this is. We are so indoctrinated not to feel what is considered to be “bad”. I wandered back to my new home still holding in (yes still behaving within some weird rule that says don’t meltdown in public even though there was no public to speak of) and sat on my porch and had the meltdown that was much needed.

Had I listened to my inner compass – I might not have needed meltdown. And in the softened space of this thought – more softness arrived to reassure me that I did what I did for many reasons that are not destructive, but rather in a certain measure of kindness towards myself. I decided not to beat myself up about it and just be more aware of when I do hold myself in check and tot then allow what is needed to surface in its own way. To see the sadness, fears and longings as they arrive, acknowledge them, allow them. Cry, roar if needed – THEN find the vibration of that which I would prefer to have in my world.

Go somewhere today and let your roar crash through you.

Unpin your thoughts, leave them tacked against a tree…

I took to the forest today and returned with the greenery in my soul. I wanted to ascend to go up and up to get closer to the Mother Mountain. Softly I tread on pine needles just taking my own path to cross other known paths. So typically me... I became aware of the city receding, and began to lose my thoughts. They were too noisy. I unpinned them, tacked them against a tree and ascended into silence.

Deep breaths, and connecting to the web all around me. Soft damp air, gentle breeze ruffled me, thoughtless I stood. The word gaining new meaning that carried another richness. A bird alighted close by, flitted, not hearing the clamor that I usually carry.

I became One with the all that was around me. I left the pine forests behind me, and sank into the indigenous vines, trees, bushes. Moss forests, and the peace of water flowing. I looked up, waterfalls rushing and the same down my face as I stood in awe… gratitude abound, I felt I could just arise and never be seen again, having merged with all around me.

I am sure if you look into my eyes now – you will see another country…

Gut knotted, shoulders tensed, oblivion is sought..

I have been thinking deeply upon my need to always want to make right the emotions that move through me. The emotions that are labelled as uncomfortable. Who taught me that fear, worry or sadness is bad? What may I do to just love what is? I have read reams about this… and what Byron Katie says sounds so simple.

"I discovered that when I believed my thoughts, I suffered, but that when I didn't believe them, I didn't suffer, and that this is true for every human being. Freedom is as simple as that. I found that suffering is optional. I found a joy within me that has never disappeared, not for a single moment. That joy is in everyone, always."

Gut knotted, shoulders tensed, oblivion is sought in meditation, thinking positive and being busy…The best that I can do is sit with what moves, accept my emotion. Even be brave enough to back track where it has come from. Have a conversation with it instead of resisting it. In my resistance I do not find ease, but into allowance I find a great deal of understanding/insight and from this arises compassion for self. In this space of looking and examining a sense of detachment arises. And a preference of joy or sadness becomes blurred because this IS… it IS… and there I find myself a full circle coming back to Byron Katie’s words of Loving What Is…

My own personal opinion is that by shutting down any emotion that arises, be that desires, grief or melancholy we lose our humanity and become wooden and somehow less real. This does not mean I am acting on everything that arises, but rather being more attentive and tender towards myself. 

I honour the glimmer of your Bright soul and wish you ease…

I am ashamed to say that I have sometimes not had eyes that really see… Most of you who read this blog know the love that I have of this Planet. But I see that my love has not really extended fully into the compassion of the expression that we as humans make. I took to the streets in Woodstock a few days ago, armed with my cell phone camera intent on capturing what I have seen of late.

No matter where we are, we will attempt to re create something beautiful to rest our eyes upon. The back streets of Woodstock are crammed and narrow, but oh the murals on the walls are something to behold… some fierce eyes and souls have painted expressions of love, fear, pain and trees. And the buildings, I leaned into them and felt the life within them. I was transported back to another piece of writing that I penned a few years back when I was wandering through Addis Abeba…

“Addis Abeba is crumbling, it crumbles from the pavements to the buildings. As if when a building goes up it should grow its own arms to clean the windows and keep things neat. I have compassion for the buildings, everything has a vibration, we are all made of the same material. You have stardust in your veins as much as the buildings. So here you have me honoring the buildings souls. And in this vision I see the people that built them with the crazy puzzle scaffolding - then their dna has dropped onto the bricks with their sweat. So they are connected and part of them is connected... it gets bigger does it not when you live with the knowledge that are all one…”

Crumbling Cape Town is no less different. I honour the one’s who have their homes in the mud of winter, the thin sheet of steel that separates them from the wild rains. I honour the glimmer of your Bright soul and wish you ease…

Are we ghosts, wandering until eyes that see, startle our souls…

Meandering through the streets for staples from the local stores I saw the bowed heads. About a 20 years ago when bowed heads were seen it was in reverence, prayer or deep thought. Now it’s the unceasing communication that we subject ourselves to. I too am that kind of self imposed consumer and have to constantly be aware of stepping away from this. It is as if we are hounded by connections by will or otherwise. The new God is in the air and no one is talking to anyone really. When you catch the eyes of a stranger it is almost a cosmic experience.

I see that the life in the eyes of the street man is more alive than the far away look of the bowed heads. So not present, whereas the tramp has humanity so raw, his hunger real. I escape to the trees who do not say any words, their faces present and sap real, these are the ones I lean into. They connect, I connect and for a brief spell amidst the tar and noise I am aware. And I step away carrying the greenery in my face. To carry to the person who sits on the corner and has thanks for the sandwich given.

I bow my head – for the older reason….

Real people don’t have a gender…nor an agenda

I wonder if gender will ever be simply not seen. I read a post recently that had me walking down memory lane.

I was sun loving tyke with tousled hair, as a child I wondered at the world, loved it just as I do now. My mom had a gem stone licence so we often would head out to outcrops of amethysts, tourmalines and other treasures. I recall a time when we all climbed (my two brothers and sister) into the back of my dad’s Ford truck, with its modified canopy so that we could travel far into the desert to just look. And look we did. I wandered off with my keen eyes and spotted a treasure… but stood dead still knowing that this treasure was not something that others would take too kindly to. A little horned viper, magnificent, the same colour as stone going about its way. I stood dead still, and the Divine Being slithered over my feet, no less bothered than I was. We were simply two sentient beings crossing one another’s paths, with a great respect and awe from me I might add.

I lived out my life as Tassy, the curly haired child that saw ghosts, auras and knew peoples intentions before they opened their mouth. I had no sense of gender. Knew I was labelled as girl – hated dresses, loved cars, played cowboys and crooks. I even had a hero. Terence Hill. My friend Louise Wells and I would enact out scenes from these movies. It as such a free time. We were, I was. Things changed for me when I was about 8, a new awareness arrived. I was being me, when my mother (bless her, I love her) in a fury asked me when I was going to be like other girls? What? What did that mean? I had no absolute sense of others, who they were gender wise. People were just people, yes there are girls and boys, but the division of sexes was not something that existed in my sphere.  

And so began my road of awareness of being different. My first crush on a friend, feeling sexually attracted and knowing that this was not something that could be admitted to. It took another 23 years from age eight when I first fell in love with a woman. Reading Hanne Blanks post (show below) had me revisiting the long road to wishing that people would just be seen as people. Not genders, just people who love people regardless of their sexual assignment, wishing there was a world that we were not fed how we should be… Read it, and see what this evokes within you…

Read her post here: http://www.hanneblank.com/blog/2011/06/23/real-women/