On Love, Facebook, sms, twitter, email

Expressions of love...before this time would be words or letters -delivered in hollywood-style productions like Gone with the Wind - or written in poems or letters sealed in wax... Time to savour and contemplate. Because once uttered or written the declaration was made and couldnt be taken back.
It seemed a more relevant and important process - a priority rather than an after thought.
It was simply to express Love. To show someone else a vulnerability that would lead to the greatest strength. It seemed a big step. To take the time to write a letter. To not smudge the ink, to seal it for the last time before the one you loved read it. Do not erase it or lose it or take it for granted.

What was life like before the cellphone, internet and email. How was love spoken about..face to face...to look into the eyes and connect with the soul.
Now we have the sms...the ability to say i luv u...and press send...to make an assumption that somehow - in a million miles away the person receiving it will feel the same.
To connect through an appliance no more useful than a potatoe peeler. To make declarations in code and icons - to build all your love and soul into a few digital words that may come back to you.
Once sent - it goes into a cyber space of temporarily existance - because what is sent on sms has a shelve life of 5 minutes.
I am a victim of sms love...wanting ..waiting for it...hoping it was felt with the pain and joy it was sent with...to not have one sent back..the rejection is like a knife wound. How hard is it to send a text?
Because love should be spoken face to face...so the wounds can be made right there...so the PRESENCE of the one you LOVE will be there to see and feel the LOVE.
To know all of the LOVE that is in you and not in a computer - or a page - or a phone screen. It is easy to throw that love around. It is easy to write a status where love is declared to all...but how is that love lived...On facebook, twitter or email....NO!! That love is lived in TIME spent together, in pain shared, in memories created, in light shown, in intimacy through touching, in life lived, in giving and receiving.
And yet I am an addict to these forms of communication...because it is easier to hide behind clever words on a screen rather than show my REALNESS...and be WHO I am because rejection can be misinterpreted on a screen. He didnt mean that - his busy - his tired - his at work - he doesnt like to text.....

Sit with the love, feel it and know it. Connect with it...and then look within - cos the one you really love cant receive it by facebook, sms, twitter or email....
because the one who needs to get it the most is YOU!!!

ADDICTION TO ADDICTS

We all live with some form of addiction - even if we are unaware of it. Addiction to good deeds, to negative thoughts, to success, to admiration, to approval and then the more physical ones - to drugs, alcohol, sex and pain.....
In my life I have had the mis-fortune of being attracted to addicts...addicts of all sorts...
My obsession stemmed from my fascination with how self-obsessed addicts are - how totally consumed they are about themselves - their own needs, thoughts and feelings..and how everyone and everything around them is just a means to feeding that addiction.
Now as you know if you are addicted to marijuana then the analogy is an easy one...buy a joint, smoke a joint, talk shit and chill..sleep...sober, smoke a joint, eat, create a beat, feel good, feel down, smoke blah blah blah

But it is when you come across the less obvious addictions - like the ones who crave approval - addicted to validation - now thats tricky....or the one addicted to rejection..or wait for it..the one addicted to being ignored....my personal favourite.

As functional human beings - you may disagree with me saying people are not truly addicted to the latter..Yes people beneath the physical addictions is the real addiction. Addicted to self annihilation...addicted to self loathing.

So whats in the addiction that drives someone to lose their family, their jobs, their friends, their dignity and self-respect. Its all about stopping the thoughts - for some escaping from the painful guilt of what they are doing, whilst for others its about being numb.
It all boils down to a lack of SELF LOVE.
If we loved ourselves enough - if we were whole and took the time to look at what is under the addiction - we would find a gaping whole where LOVE should reside.
Easier said than done. I am testiment to that - but having tried to stop my addictions...I have submitted to them- accepted I have them - but also not acted on them anymore - because when you act on it - it begins the spiral into the darkness.

It saddens me to watch when the addictions win. When someone will hang themselves because they are addicted to being a victim or a failure. When another will neglect her kids because she loathes herself. When addiction to junk is so important that a man can live alone and die alone in a house broken with the weight of dysfunction.

I dont have the answers - just the observation that most people are addicts - just some are addicted to healthier options.

In 2060

In 2060 I will be around 80 years old - that is if I am spared to live out my days until then. It is bazaar to think about that time or being that age. Because as the present dictates my life I cant look ahead and worry about it or even imagine it.
But the other day it struck me - that at that age I would have seen the invention of the mobile phone, HDV and flying to the moon for fun. How can technology possibly advance more than it has already. Will the Earth have enough resources to feed the human race that does not respect its nature? Or will we implode and have to buy air and water - like a wonderful soul sister wrote in her soon to be released movie - or will we have a new world. Where technology regresses and we go back to traditional forms of living - like growing our own produce and working within enclosed communities. Who knows.
What I do know is this - in life - regardless of how long I spend in this life there are a few fundamental truths for me. Whatever the date or time ...however old I get I hope to live these truths until the day I die.
1. Love is eternal - it transcends death and life - it is unconditional and created to heal all humankind, nature and animal kingdom - if practiced truthfully.
2. I cannot change or impact on others freewill. Not in the name of "helping" them or for love or because it is my mother, father, best friend. People have a choice how to live their lives - and they will choose it regardless of my interference.
3. How I present myself to the world -is how I am on the inside. This is called INTEGRITY.
4. Trust cannot be taken away if it is not given in the first place.
5. SELF LOVE is the basis for all LOVE. Without it - True love can never be experienced.
6. GOD/ALLAH/BUDDAH/UNIVERSE/SPIRIT is in my heart

So the idea of aging is there
Just like the idea of death
But it is only when it arrives
In the present
That it is there!!

AARRGGHHH MOMENTS

AN ARRGGHHH moment is when...

I realised that the majority of my time is spent feeling caged at work.
I dont live for work but work to live.
Work is not my passion but rather my enslavement to paying off debt.
I am clocked by the hour, paid, owned between 9am and 5pm, accountable and bored.
It is sad to think most of my days are filled with mundanity waiting for when I am free to leave.
Yes, I am the product of a monetary system where we are forced to use paper - with no instrinsic value - to pay our way through this world.
Imagine a world where we were not paid for the jobs we do. Where we could do what we love doing and instead of payment, we would receive food from the growers who love to grow fruit and vegetables. We would put our children in schools with teachers who love children. We would not need bankers, actuaries, advertising or any tasks that do not create something. Craftsman would be rewarded, artisans would flourish, musicians would sing, and dancers would fly. Because instead of the need for more money driving this world - the need to express the beauty of humanity will come to the fore.
A world most people cannot imagine - because people need to be controlled, enslaved and forced to work. Because if given a choice - and if money wasn't driving us then we would be lazy, no gooders looking for a free ride. We cannot and will not believe in a world where work does not exist.
Where if you turn the word "WORK" into "PASSION" or "PURPOSE" then why would we need to get paid.
Where if you turn the word "BUY" and "MONEY" into "ABUNDANCE" and "BARTERING" why would we need to be dependant on a system that is imprisonment for the soul.
IT is a world I long for..
And that is the reason for the ARRRGGGHHHH moments
When I wake up and it is not even a possiblity.

REBIRTH WITH THE BIRTH OF ZIA

The day I discovered I was pregnant was the day my life eternally shifted.
It was September 2007 and I had been married for only four months. Being pregnant was not a possibility for me having been told that my eggs in my ovaries were disintergrating from two gynaecologists. So obviously the pregnancy was not planned. So this was a miracle. A gift. A soul who chose me to be her mother. Shew what a huge honour but incomprehensible at the time.

But since that day - the thought - process and experience of being pregnant and ultimately giving birth to my daughter Zia, has been about one journey and one lesson only: SELF LOVE.
Shew what a tough one that is - because you truly know at a deep core of you, beyond your conscious effort that unless you LOVE YOURSELF enough - you cannot have this baby. You cannot bring up a child who is whole and LOVED unless you love yourself enough to say: I AM WORTHY OF THIS BABY.
It was a ride. Filled with lots of anxiousness, fear, exhiliration, self doubt and excitement. But finally giving birth was like dying to myself. I had to allow all my fear to die. I had to make sure all my self worth issues and my failures and insecurities was killed. The birthing process is not like anything a woman will ever experience in her life. It is more than just pushing out a baby.
It is being humbled by the amazing Creator we have to allow us to grow another human being inside of us. To feel her grow and turn and move. To know from the day of conception that she relies exclusively on me as the mother - for her survival.
So if you dont love yourself enough to look after yourself - then you dont look after that baby inside of you.
Never before did I experience being so alienated from my body. It had a will of its own. It wants and needs was beyond my efforts to deny it.
But the fear that enveloped me when I thought of giving birth - physically - crippled me.
Days before the day - i was on tenterhooks not knowing what to expect. And having no option of an epidural I knew this was probably the worst pain i would feel.
Would I beable to bear it. Would I beable to keep my dignity. Would I let myself and the baby down. It was all chasing through my head.
When i finally went into labour at 6pm on 22 April 2008 my worst fears came true. The pain was unbearable. I had developed a bladder infection that made the dialation of 2cm feel like 10 cm. I was in agony from the word go and this lasted until 7h30am the following morning.
It was a pain that came and went. The pain of LIFE itself. Giving me brief glimpses of hope. I walked, sat in a bath, laid down, turned, twisted, hung on, spoke, was silent, breathed, prayed, meditated, breathed, twisted, walked, stood up, sat down, back in the bath, out, worried, begged for drugs, waited for drugs, cried but never screamt.
The dignity was in not letting go. In my mind being a primal woman was losing my dignity and i refused to give into the urge of letting go. Screaming like a banshee....worried what my loved one would think. That I would be embarrassing generations of women before me who gave birth under the trees nogal.
So i kept it in.
While my husband slept on the bed supplied for my convenience in the birthing room. Ok he woke up half hour later.
Until finally at 7am I was told its time. I was 10cm dilated and i could finally push.
BUT NO ONE EVER TELLS YOU THAT PUSHING IS HARD.
That unless you push through - the baby in the canal is like a suction. You push and if you dont push hard enough - it gets sucked back up. So there I was squatting and being told to push - NO LADIES - NOT DIGNIFIED. Dont push with your neck with your torsoe. Which at the time is a distorted, gynormous orb between you and the floor. Errhh so I missed lamaze class. But still its not natural phenomenon with the baby miraculously popping out. No its hard.
Its primal and then its when the screams come. Loud and intense. It rips through you like a contraction of a jaggered knife ripping through your pelvis.
Its like nothing on earth you can ever experience unless you going to be killed and you happen to be eaten by a great white shark.
Its insane. Its exhiliration, Its adrenalin, Its LIFE. Raw, hard, intense and passionate. Its what the word means: BIRTH: the act or process of bearing or bringing forth a human being. ITS THE ACT OF LIFE.
I had no idea I finally pushed Zia out of me - accept for seeing my husband's face. White with shock and awe. In that moment I released. All the pain, suffering, negative emotions of my life in one fell swoop.
Letting it go. Screaming but happy that my baby has been born screaming and fighting for that breath that would give her LIFE.

Seeing Zia for the first time was the most natural, and deep connection I have ever felt with another human. I knew her. From before time from another time. From Life itself. She was with me again as promised. She was here.
This is LIFE, my LIFE, my child, my Zia, my WORLD, my reflection, My journey. SHE IS WORTH the pain. A small price for the eternal gift she is.
I would never go back and take the epidural. Because the birth was my workshop. It was my process of LIFE. It allowed me to face LIFE and BE ALIVE.

MY REBIRTH!!!

POEM OF LOST LOVE BY PABLO NERUDA

Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through the nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

THE LIGHT CATCHER

You made the headlines- no you didn’t shoot it.
You even got the breaking story… not knowing it.
You were on the radio…not there to hear it.
The headlines read:
The light capturer left, passed away, dead.

The news broke
And you were gone
Just like that …in a heart beat..
Hung from your living room…
Rope around your neck, strangled to death without a breath…
You were dead, passed away and gone but never forgotten.

Rage, rage strangled red and raw
I screamed, angered at how you saw
The only path
Led to this pathetic and violent end
Distinguished the magnificent flame of you
Just over some misguided feelings of what you could not mend...

So now what remains?
Is your remains…
Sprinkled across the ocean
As vast as this confused empty emotion…
Anger, sadness, regret and finally some relief
Of Acceptance... Of Love...Of hope..
Of seeing you swimming, free, happy and whole..


Leaving only the perfect postcard pictures…
Of light you captured
of laughter and moments gone by..

And all we have is the wonder
Of beautiful perfect postcard pictures
That you captured
The light of
Times with you gone by…

MY FIRST TIME

This is a first for me...
The first time I am blogging.
The first time I am connected.
The first time I am free to be me.

Today I gave in. To the idea that blogging is for me. That I can write something worth reading that is my truth without wondering who will read this or what it will reveal. To just be FREE to write. Write about my life for me. And if no one reads this or the whole world read this - it is for ME. Not for them. Not for approval or comment or connection. Just a place to call my own. A space created of my own. My own place. My own space in this life where nothing is alone. And no one is sacred and everything is shared.

So this is my space. And I celebrate my freedom........


Freedom
It is fitting to think about this concept as it has dodged me most of my life. Born into a muslim conservative family as a so called "coloured" person under apartheid - the idea of freedom is ludicrous. Ludicrous to think that women ever feel free even without these constraints. But in my case - free from identity as a teenager and then now as an adult free from my humanness. To be free from feeling unworthy and free from addiction to rejection. To feel freedom to receive love without fear of it leaving. To be free to LOVE regardless of it being right or wrong. To Love freely and eternally.
But mostly Freedom has manifested in a beautiful precious courageous soul called Zia. Who has come to teach me - about what it means to love freely.
To be LOVED so much and adored so much - is to be free of the FEAR that something will happen to this most amazing soul and I may not be able to take care of her.
TO BE FREE TO BE A MOTHER....THAT IS PURE FREEDOM