Slipping and sliding

One of my first memories of a slide was not as pleasant as you would think. The great thing about slides it that first feeling of excitement, then the feeling of freedom as you go down the slide enjoying the quick gush of wind that flies across your face. On this occasion, however, instead of finishing off with a sense of joy and satisfaction, I was blinded by a swarm of wasps. I remember the beady buggers waiting for me at the bottom with yellow striped legs dangling in their attack zone. I felt like a piece of prey captured in a spiderweb with ninja stars sticking into me.
The bathtub I was thrown into, was filled with ice and cold water and it did not do wonders for my mental stability either. From burning up by the stings, to freezing to the point of hypothermia I lost the ability to think rationally. Was I alive or dead? However, being fussed over for days by my grandmother and being spoilt rotten with chocolates and hugs certainly made up for it.

In our lives, we have a playground full of slides, just waiting to get used. Our emotions and intimate relationships are a constant source of playground 'fun'. We are safe and supported on the top, then have a brief false sense of security and freedom before it's over and we have reached the end of the journey. And occasionally, we have a few wasp nests waiting for our arrival at the bottom. Some slides are more slippery than others too which makes the trip faster and blurrier and at the end you ask yourself: why did that have to end so quickly? Other slides need more of a nudge to push through all the debris in the way. At the end you think: What was the point of that? No matter what the outcome at the bottom, it's always an exhilarating experience to be part of the ride.

Go find the perfect slide, that has the right slippery surface for easy, comfortable and joyful satisfaction. And at the bottom ask yourself: How can I do that again?

A Silly Thought

I do not need to close my eyes.
The feeling is blindingly clear.
I do not need to speak it.
The knowing is deliciously sweet.
A silly thought? I must dig deeper.

I'm directed by that soulful whisper.
My concious mind begins to shine.
Your bleeding heart is yearning.
My buzzing breath is searching.
A silly thought? I think not.

It is not DNA that seals our fate.
It's affinity and hopeful believing.
You wait for my giving nature.
You understand my true intentions.
A silly thought? To others, maybe.

I want to protect you from your past.
I want to cradle you in the present.
I want to uplift you in your future.
I want to share with you my love.
A silly thought? No, not ever!

It's all becoming so much clearer.
It's all about being better.
It's all for you and for the world.
It's all in line with life and purpose.
A silly thought? Sssh... I'm coming for you, Angel.
Just hold on a little longer.

(2011)

The right perspective

I am not here to talk about my recent trip to South Africa, although that was quite a ride to be on. I am here to blurb about the concept of contradiction.
Watching, oh so shamefully, a reality TV program called the Real Housewives of New York(my pink bicycle in times of boredom and procrastination)...I watched an episode where one of the unfortunate women was shown video evidence of her numerous contradictions. For example, she would say she supported PETA and the stopping of torture and cruelty of animals but she said that she loves and wears fur. This was just one of the examples but after watching a few minutes of this she said that it was ok to change who you are and what you believe every other day because...and get this...because...sigh..." why not?"

Then from my bizarre experiences on my trip, it got me thinking about the whole concept of contradiction. We are all a constant reminder of contradiction. When we find ourselves in an uncomfortable or upsetting situation, most of the time we convey the opposite to protect our fragility. Through this process the true source of anxiety is often not dealt with or even acknowledged because we are so busy trying to not let others see what we are really feeling. When did that become the etiquette in social circles? Who is to blame? Do we blame them? I mean, protecting ourselves from harm is a survival technique, but is it self destructive?

As I stare at the picture above I see the similarity in out human behaviour. Land and rock is completely different to the fluidity of movement of water or sea. We are so often building these immoveable walls around us which will eventually crumble anyway with the patient and continuous erosion from our surrounding or environment.

Many Eastern philosophers and Buddhas have said that we should be like water. Be pure in our makeup and be open to change. Adapt to our environment. But change does not mean to contradict ourselves either. It is easier to move and feel lighter without carrying these heavy walls we so desperately hold onto. Our environment and society should not make us feel lonely or lost, we should become part of it to enhance and enjoy its full potencial.

Just as the cliffs get shaped by the oceans, so should we be shaped by our environment, in a positive and beneficial way. Let the crashing waves and trials be the right of passage into beautiful perspectives like this photograph.

Wasting time

Avoidance from dealing with our ego can lead to some seriously srange past times. When faced with failure in one area of your life, we naturally want to succeed at other things, no matter how daft or insignificant.
I am in one of these bubbles at the moment, floating above the heads of the fortunate and waiting for the big pop back to reality. I can't say that it is actually an unpleasant experience though. I'm teaching myself new skills, which helps combat controllable problems. For instance:

OATS: Yes, the dry stuff that they make porridge from...and no, I am not becoming the master porridge maker, because I already am (apparently I am working on inflating my head too...you gotta start somewhere, I guess). I have decided to make a homemade exfoliator for my skin. I crush up some organic oats and when you add a little bit of water, it becomes a grainy paste. Then you mix it with some overpriced 'organic' face wash and you got yourself a party on your face. It actually smells really comforting but it does still feel a bit like bathing in your breakfast. Which reminds me of my fantasy to bath in a big tub of warm creamy milk. That is EXACTLY how it sounds.

MOBILE BILL: Going through this process, I understand the importance of hassling people at all times of the day by calling them to talk about dribble. Running up a phone bill and chowing all my minutes sounds way more viable than dealing with the bruised ego of my mind. My biggest low for the day was talking about how I was tucking my shoelace into my shoe...it shouldn't have lasted that long, but it did and I am shamed. Luckily for me, most of the people that know me, think this is completely normal behaviour. Hmmmm..hold on...NAH!let's close that book again.

BINGE:We all have our reason for binging on food. We eat crap and we will justify it by saying we are only human afterall. I am the worst binger of all. I have never been able to do it correctly. While my friends were nursing their hangovers with copious amounts of grease and food mayhem, I would take a few bites and revert back to a carrot stick or a salad. When I'm hungover, I get healthier than ever. I buy the best pressed juices, binge on things like tomatoes, celery, seeds and lots of water. If I were to have some grease, it would have to be a clean(ungreasy) fried egg on seedy toast with greens, mushrooms, halluomi and grilled tomato. It's the same when I am denying myself reflection and forgiveness. I practically inhale things like raw peas, litre bottles of carrot juice, nuts and fruits rich in antioxidants. The naughtiest I will be is to have a chocolate and I will feel so ill afterwards, that I just counteract it with another handful of something nutritious. I really can be nauseating but it's just a nother quirk in a long line or...well...um...quirks? We all have our vices.

Roll like a ball: This is also known in Pilates as the 'Roll like a ball' exercise. Wow, so uncanny I tell you. Since I can remember, I liked lying on my back hugging my knees to my chest and rocking like a ball. I would even place something heavy like a foot stool on my knees while I watched TV, so that I could get the necessary feedback from both sides, that I was, in fact....a ball. Then many years later I got the opportunity to actually TEACH this motion. So every class this week I have taught this exercise. Maybe I was trying to get back to my roots of a foetus but it's a weird comfort I have. I see the world around me through different eyes and tap briefly into that silly side I can so often forget about.

So see..there are many ways to avoid the reality of facing your weaknesses and have a little fun too. Oh dear!...I see a rose bush in my path. *POP*

Daily dose

It's Friday again, how fortunate are we? We have so many Fridays in a year which means that even the grumpy people out there are still happy at least once a week. I am feeling ill *insert snarl at the ordasity* but for some reason I still feel chipper.
I was explaining to my lovely man, last night, that it is truely a blessing having such a sore throat from being sick. It stops me from saying thoughtless things. It's like a toll gate boom has gone down on me and I can't continue my journey until I have paid the required fare. It has also slowed me down from crazy-ass-speedy gonzales to strolling-hazey bambino. For those of you who don't have a Sam decoder, it just means I have been appreciating the concept of 'now' a little more than usual.
It's amazing when we slow down, be more thoughtful with our words and actions and learn the joys of appreciating even the most frustrating things like illness, we can smile a lot more often.
It's a fact that children can laugh and smile us adults under the table.Really, they do put us to shame! And, sure, we have more responsibilities and concerns but we also have a lot more experience than them. This should mean we have a lot more wisdom than them, but yet here we are doing ourselves huge injustices by depriving ourselves of the best medicine...laughter!
So I say to all of you, go out there and smile like an idiot, laugh at yourself harder and embrace your inner child! Who knows? Maybe this could be the next good habit your form and the next better life you lead!

Shoreditch Streets

The Big Buzz

I am a slave to my diary...sorry scrap that, my THREE diaries. Yes, I AM that busy and you WILL start noticing me metamorphasising into a little African bee. Working two jobs and building up a business is a constant source for buzzing wings. I have always had this...hmmm...what to call it?...let's go with the word: fascination, with comparing human beings to animals.
Some you can spot straight away in their obvious resemblances and some only show through their personalities or gestures. I have always wanted to be a wholesome, loyal dog but I was never a 100% convinced of this. Dogs are cuddly and simple, I am neither of those things. My complication comes from a place that is more swirling than cuddly. So I have decided that for now, the perfect animal to descibe me is, in fact, an insect... the African bee. I have quite a nasty sting and will have no qualms about defending my home and the people I love. However, I do produce the sweetest honey when treated well. What would the world do without us millions of hard working bees that never give up when life throws us challenges that just seem so unreasonable? Bees are extremely sensitive to their environment and spend their life working as a team with the sole purpose of creating a successful community or colony for future genrations to come.
I understand the bee and I have a lot of respect for this seemingly insignificant creature. Bees are an essential necessity to any healthy environment and that is why I don't blame them for all the painful stings I have had from them in the past or the fact that I am now highly allergic to their stings...hell, how can you when they die after stinging you?
Ok...now it is time for me to buzz off and be one with my diary.
Bzzzzzzzzz!

Wise Guys

I had my weekly catch up chat with my marvellous grandmother today. We are extremely close and share all our truths about the world and the funny things we have done. Today's topic was a book called Empty Cradles by Margaret Humphreys. It's about a generation of thousands of British orphaned children during the 1930's to 1940's, during the war,that were sent off to British colonies like Australia and Rhodesia with nothing more than their birth certificates because the orphanges were costing the government too much money to run. Most of the children were younger than 13 yrs old and were put to work like slaves on farms, often being raped and traumatised. The saddest thing is that most of these people still to this day have no idea where they came from and never had a childhood at all. They lost their whole identity and sense of heritage and family life. Britains big dark secret...read it!

They would be my gran's age today. As we discussed the book and what it would feel like to have no sense of belonging and purpose, I thanked my lucky starts once again for the privilege of having such a loving family and childhood. Most of my childhood also happened to be spent with my grandparents. There aren't enough words or pages to express the things I learnt and the life lessons they gave me. My grandfather was a man who gave up fortune and ego to be the best father and grandfather anyone could ask for. He seemed to be able to do anything and everthing. This picture was of his workshop where he made beautiful pieces of woodwork, fixed all things broken and spent hours dreaming up new creative projects to get his hands stuck into.

I love that older generation. They seem to be the concrete from which our current generations are lying on. People seem to forget how valuable their wisdom and insight can be. Not mention the wonderful stories of things I could not even imagine anymore in this day and age of technology and fast-paced living. And MAN!, are they a funny generation too. When you get to that age, you stop caring about what people think and really let loose, become a child again.
Cheers to all the Wise Guys out there...Salut!

The end is always good

Today is the day I walk down that eerie dark lane of my mind. I feel the familiar glowing eyes that watch me down the same path. I hear the whispers behind the trees, taunting me with their boring 'welcome-backs'.I feel the chill of the bitter wind over my skin.
We all have this space in our minds. As humans beings,we have this desire to lurk around in the shadows of our hearts, reliving hurts and burdens, because we need the reminder of how far down we can really go. When things work out the way we want them to in life, we question that and delve deep into the 'hidden' reasons why. We cannot accept that we have gotten the rewards that we asked for and move on. We question whether or not we actually wanted this in the first place. If we don't feel that instant gratification that we get when we do something naughty but fun, we down play the whole experience and start from scratch. Why do we doubt all our hard work that we put into elevating ourselves to be a better person..to be a free person!
So ladies and gentleman, fools and horses(?)...I'm walking along this dumb path, with the same aching head BUT at least I know this path has a happy ending. I can slip and slide in and out of this place, but my visits are getting few and far between and I know the shortcuts now.
This dark road serves a very useful purpose. It is a reference book of what we have to understand in order to appreciate what we have now. The more you hate this path, the more it sucks you dry and the more energy you feed it to grow stronger and bigger. Take a look see, remember what you came there for and move on to the finer, greener pastures of bliss and contentment. It exists and it's ALL YOURS!

Regurgitating nonsense

I was told, by a friend who is doing a creative writing course, that one way of writing down a semi decent piece of writing is to just throw away words onto a page for as long as you can, then edit it and you will find some inspirational subject matter(those were MY non-intellectual words btw). Well, that is how I chose to interpret it. So, here we go:
I have a friend called Toez. He writes and bites and shakes the phone. I am a vegetarian who feels the need to say totalitarian. I used to eat Wicks bubblegum but now I eat wasabi roasted peas. I think I have spondylolysis which I bet you had to read twice. My dogs name is humphrey and he loves carrots and avo skins. I wish we could get the brown litchis all year round. Is it weird to like packing? The toad jumped over the candlestick. Longboarding and mandarin not mandolin, mandarin. Yes I just did that. I wonder how many of you are mad about punctuation. I have a tendancy to laugh out loud, usually at myself, but it has been known that I will laugh at you, yes you with the floppy excuse for a joke. Thoughts are random, just like the cut on my lip. Fight club should never happen. Rings and tings. Shimmy rather than the Twist. ok I am getting bored of shedding light into my not-so-affable mind. Go find your own you nosey bunch of blueberry piesang suckers.
*Testing...testing..1..2..3..*

Toez bites the phone to stop from shaking. Spondylolysis hurts almost as much as the burn from Wasabi peas.Humphrey stares at him as he munches on a piece of carrot.He wonders why he jumped over that candlestick with his longbaord. He likes to be the joker for everyone to laugh at. Now he also has a cut lip from his ring. He must remember to shimmy the board and THEN twist. It stops ringing. His mom must not be home. He misses her blueberry muffins...

Well creative maybe but good..pffff I don't think so!

African longing

It's that time of the year again. London in January. It's grey, it's cold and swarming with grumpy souls. People are broke after overspending on indulgence and short-lived presents. Everyone feels a little guilty for the extra pounds they put on or feeling sorry for themselves because they caught another viral flu. It's a sad state of affairs.

I, on the other hand have Africa. Yes, I live far away from the beautiful continent...and ..well..yes, I have the Jan blues BUT my dear people, my source is ALL sunshine and drumming beats. It's easy to forget where you came from when times are tough. People, and by people I mean MY people, South Africans are a funny breed. We have, impressively, made our loud mark all around London(predominantly in the South...maybe because subconciously we feel closer to the sun. There are two types of South Africans existing in this habitat called Mud Island.

There are those that curse our homeland, saying it is a barbarians kingdom and we have no future. This breed also have one obvious charateristic:scare mongering. They have every horror story up their sleeve, waiting for any opportunity to divulge their juicy stories of fear and betrayal. Do not listen to them. They breed ignorance and hurt. Forgive them because you will get a surprise when they flip the coin and display their colours of pride during ..well..any sporting event.

Then there is the other breed of South African, the kind that treasures the joys of coming from such a unique and wild country. They have stories of warmth and connection. They miss home and always return home. They are happy and if you listen closely, you can hear the humming of their African drum-heart pulsing through their veins. They appreciate freedom and stand out when it most counts.

The two breeds are really just a balance of a wonderful country, an inspiring heritage and a twisted humour that can only be adored by the strong willed and motivated.

I'm proud to be a piece of it. I'm glad I will be going home to it soon. C'mon 2011! I'm all Africa'd up.
*insert Lion roar*

Dog boxes and shoulder shrugs

SO, we have all been in the dog box and it's usually seen as a bad thing. But I like the dog box. I get to be alone in the dog box. I get to sit and "think about what I have done". I get to be locked away in safety while the festering continues around me.
It's basically like a reflection box, really. I imagine myself on top of a mountain, shrugging off the mess I made for myself. I have a much better perspective from here than when I am right in the thick of it. I am beyond the immaturity that surfaces when the ego has been bruised. I have the time to find the clarity I need to change MY perspective on the situation.
It's probably the most useful box to have in existence. Plus the name is so cool too. ANd who doesn't love dogs. I don't mind being a dog for a day. Life seems so much simpler as a dog. And at the end of the day, no one can resist the puppy dog look you give when your reflection time is done. They will forgive you.
They feel that they have punished you, and you feel like you managed to dodge the flying bullets..win-win!