Back on the market for the first time in thirty years, fresh as daisy, time has been kind to her, she remains fresh and untouched, unspoilt by the ravaging hands of time, preserved as a capsule buried deep in the depth of the earth, a fossil breathing, waiting, ticking and begging to be unearth in it’s glorious fullness. The bidding was intense, furious and determined, each bidder hungry and single minded, panting like a blood hound, they could discern her scent from miles. Such purity is rare, the nature of her baffles, confound and defy description. Her innocence us divine, her beauty radiates, her softness and gentleness contradicts the hardness and harshness of life. What a rare find! The room stood still, dead silence, you could hear a pin drop. The tension in the room was thick, the silencing was deafening. Where has she been all these years? They wondered. She had been amongst they all along but they could not perceive or discern her uniqueness.

As she is unveiled, revealed and presented back to the market, they all wanted a piece of her, not for noble reasons, not to treasure her, but to dim the luminance, to possess, control and do what humans do, to corrupt and spoil, to dominate. It’s a power hunger, the need to overcome, be the last one standing. The plight of man, the disease that has inflicted the human race from the beginning of time, the urge and desire to pollute beauty and purity. The destructive nature of man must ravage and dominate. Like a roaming and roaring lion it hunts, prowl, consume and destroys.

Who can save and protect her? They all come disguised, wearing the cloak of a protector, saviour, lover, friend, provider, guide, sister, brother , companion, family etc but who is true, genuine, kosher and called to her? Is there any? Yes there are, but she must be discerning and careful. She is rare and not for all.

Unsold, stay pure, stay true, stay linked and connected to the source of all beauty!

Some have honed the skills of the Goodbye to a T, others make a total monkey of the process. There is hardly a manual on what you are suppose to do, everyone does what seems right, hoping and praying that it works. It’s been said that the English are notoriously clumsy at the goodbye ritual, people not knowing whether to shake hands, hug or kiss. Is it one cheek, two cheeks or no cheek kiss? Do you just blow the kiss with no physical contact? Is it a full frontal hug, side hug or just upper chest hug? Do you say the goodbye and leave swiftly or do you say the first goodbye, start a new conversation before the second, third and final goodbye? Do you drag out your goodbye or make it nice and short? You obviously do not want to hurt anyone’s feeling. What happens most times is that we end up with aborted handshakes, hugs and kisses. Kiss meant for the cheek end up on unintended parts of the face, nose, lip wherever.

I use to live in a part of the world where they had a drawn out goodbye ritual. God help your soul if you do an abrupt disappearance. It usually start with one of the party announcing the intention to leave, this is then followed by some incomprehensible muttering, then some prayers, then the first good bye, followed by some questions and answers, more prayers, followed by some half squatting more prayers and then slow unwinding of the whole process as things tail off to an actual departure.

Ending a telephone call is another trickly one for some people. Some are smooth at it others bother on being rude while some hug the call too long not knowing how to end it. I use to have a fiesty friend, she would call and launch into ‘one’ like a tornado. When I starting warming up, gathering my thoughts in my usual slow manner, I will just hear ‘goodbye’ before I could even respond, she is gone all I would here is the loud bang of the phone as the call is cut off. I know her, I know she meant no harm, but there are times, I have felt ‘how rude?’

The more recent situation people find themselves in are WhatsApp groups, some have truly passed their ‘use by’ dates, others we simply just don’t belong. They are a waste of our precious time and most of the postings are irrelevant but leaving becomes a sensitive matter as we do not want to offend. People go quiet and refuse to participate, they mute the group, archive it, do everything to leave except actually leave. I have always wonder, why not just leave? Who are we fooling?

In life some things are over, but how do you leave? How do you say goodbye? What is the right way? Some friendship have done their time and it is time to slow it down, it is not serving anyone but in an attempt not to hurt we drag it on as it collects all manner of unpleasantness along the way. Romantic relationships can be the same, people abandon, become nasty just because they don’t know how or when to say goodbye. Business, religious groups, family, work etc are not exonerated, the same plight applies.

The question then is ‘what do we do?’ the simple answer is that goodbyes can be difficult, painful or messy. Other times it can be sweet and pleasant. Whatever the case maybe we must just accept that it is the nature of the beast. Enjoy the beautiful peaceful endings, tolerate the embarrassment of the clumsiness ones, grieve the loss where applicable and move on in peace.

Live and let live, life is for living, let no man trouble you!

I came into this world buried deep under layers and layers of thrash, rubbish beliefs, archaic and quaint cultural values, burdensome expectations, warped understanding, misinformation, nonsensical religious beliefs, unimaginable family expectations, untenable gender roles, racial biases and the likes. Added to this hormonal imbalance and inferior hereditary genes. Weighed down I throttle around wondering what was wrong with me. Everything was wrong, every thing was! Clueless and unaware I lived in survival mode, oblivious to the shackle around my legs, the noose on my neck and the burden on my back. I tried to stand strong and erect but it was impossible. Crooked and misaligned I muddled through life with no insight into my light and my purpose. All my lights were switched off and I lived in darkness when I am light. Flattened to the ground I was with all my burden, unable to see beyond my nose, incomprehensible was the prison I was born into.

I saw a tiny glimpse of light and commence the arduous task of unburdening myself, freeing myself as no one is coming to free me. The task of freedom lies with me and me alone. Yes some might offer a tool here and there but the task of chiselling off the dross is mine to carry out. How much work I have to carry out and how little time I have left to do that which needs to be done. How ingrained and stuck are the oppressive beliefs that have stuck to my core like sesame twins. With diligence and focus my steady hand went to work, my mind stayed the course, the ink in my pen did not dry up, the oil in my lamp did not run out. Each new day brought new relief and awareness. Each new day the burden was lessen, the soul became freer and the light began to emerge. As I found my balance and strength I was able to offer a helping hand and support to others that are born buried.

I can breathe!

Story was once told of a particular woman who was getting on in age and her eye sight was giving ever so slightly. She was on her way home and had a list in her bag of what her front door looks like, her memory was failing as well but she can still remember the town she lives in, the road name and the colour of her front door, it was blue. She gets to the road and every blue door looks like home. Either she has forgotten she had a list or too tired to fish it out of her bag, she gravitates towards the door that feels most like home, gets her key out and the key wouldn’t even fit into the lock, other times the key will go in, but try as hard as she will, it wouldn’t turn. There are times she stood outside a door screaming and kicking, hoping for the door to open, other times she begged and begged for the home owner to let her, at the last one she just stood there, crying her heart out, but it just was not home.

Once she was so tired and spent hours in front of a particular door, prepared to settle in the porch, she reasoned she might never get home. She was exhausted from the tediousness of the journey and the weight of her baggage. In her search for home, she had been rained on, snowed upon, sunburnt, the elements got the better of her. She was drained, worse for wear. The woman had a list that described every fine details of her door, every knot, every grain, every whorl on the wooden door, every shade, reflection and inflection, yet from time to time, she was so blinded and ended up at the wrong door. Today, she found the strength to rummage to the very bottom of her bag, fished out her list and held on to it tightly, as she approached each blue door, she was able to say ‘No’, ‘No’, ‘No’! she checked off against her list, she would ran her hand all over the door before trying with the key, quickly she moved away from all wrong doors.

With heavy legs and weary heart she approached a door today, before getting to the door there was a leap in her soul, she touched it and ran her hand over the door, she could feel every familiar knot, grain and imperfections and effortlessly her key went into the lock and turned smoothly. What hard journey it was getting to home! The door flung open, she was welcomed in, her home embraced her with the warmest of hug, she sank into it, took a deep breath allowing herself to be intoxicated by sweetest aroma of her home. What joy, what peace, what harmony and contentment to be home! Home is definitely where the heart is!

To everyone seeking home, be it relational home, financial home, spiritual home, business home, professional home, health home, fitness home, knowledge home, friendship home etc whatever aspect you seek peace and fulfilment, with everything in me today I want to encourage you to hold on and believe in the dream, in the fullness of time, he that will come will came and not tarry.

Stay strong, hold tight to the vision, Your blue door is just round the corner.

So here was I thoroughly enjoying my drive. I was in a real good place, nobody has upset me neither have I upset anyone. I hadn’t crashed into anything or anyone neither was anyone crashing into me. There was no little one in the car insisting that I play some boom bang radio station. It was just me and my Amapiano music blasting away. Everything was well in the the world, I was attentive to the road, hadn’t jumped any red light neither stopped in a yellow box. Just been to wash my car and had one of those cheap air freshner hanging in front of me, filling my nostril with not too unpleasant fragrance. I couldn’t ask for a better day, until from nowhere a police car appeared with three (I thought they were only suppose to be two in the car) hefty and scary looking officers. Initially I paid no attention until I realised they were waving me to stop. I stopped and in the split second before they got to me, I did a quick scan of myself and every thing I had done in the last couple of hours, days, months, year’s etc. As far as I know I was Kosher. One of the officer walked over, I wind down my window, careful to keep my hands within visibility, we don’t want any accidents or mistakes. “Yes Officer?” I said with that questioning tone. He said, “do you know you have a low pressure on your back passenger wheel?” No I replied, came out of the car, went to check and yes the tyre was low. I said my thank you and I assured him, I would get it attended to right away at the next filling station. He advised that I must drive slowly. He left and I thought, how oblivious I was, I did not know the tyre was low.

My friend just got herself one of those fanciful all singing all dancing car. She took me on a spin in the car the other day. Before the drive she was showing me all the workings of the car, the features, all the things it can do. She showed me that she does not have to wonder about the pressure of the wheels or go out of the car to check the pressure, all she has to do was press a button and it displays the pressure. With that car, it is unlikely she will have the police on her tail for low tyre pressure, maybe for speeding, this new shiny babe can fly.

I went to a conference sometime ago on Self-confidence and the main speaker who gave a powerful speech was recounting his journey to having a high Self esteem. He told us how he was a middle child, born into a family where typically the middle child was never paid much attention, growing up he was reserved and shy, he just minded his business with head buried into his books most of the time. No one reflected or told him who he was so he went around with no awareness or consciousness of himself. He left school, went into the working world, started his own business and become more aware of himself, he put some effort into his own self development and self esteem. He got to a stage that he was happy with the work he had done with himself and just carried on living his life. He was interested in bidding for a contract and put together a strong tender document, he had to attend a panel interview and as far as he was concerned he interviewed extremely well. Surprisingly he didn’t win the contract, not one to miss an opportunity for feedback, he contacted one of the panel member and he was told that he prepared the best tender document but in the interview he came across as having a low self-esteem. He was shocked to his bones, said his thank you and promised to work on that and that was exactly what he did. He stopped, took stock of all he is, was, been and all he can be. He got mentors, bought books, attended courses, carried out psychometric tests, got confidence coach. He carried out a full valuation of himself as a human being and from that day he never sold himself short. Some called it arrogance, he carried it having a healthy, aware and appropriate self esteemed.

Like my friend with the all singing all dancing car, each evening before sleeping he presses the button in his life (by doing an analysis of his day), has there been any loss of pressure in any aspect of his life? Did he show up less than he should in any of his outings? Was he present? But most importantly, did he remember who he is and the value he brings to the table. There was no need for any police in life to point out the low pressure. He carries out the check regularly and pump up accordingly.

Let no man think of himself more highly than he ought, in the same vein, let no man think of himself more lowly than he ought to, with low pressure (low self esteem) we must slow down, we can not go at the speed we are destined to.

Have you checked your pressure?

“No retreat, no surrender! That is Spartan Law and by Spartan Law we will stand, fight and die”. King Leonidas, at the battle of Thermopylae.

I saw two people talking the other day, one of them a slothful man, the other a fighter. The sloth said “what is the point of all these stand, fight and then die, when we are all going to die anyway, why don’t we just lie quietly here, rot and die peacefully?” The fight replied “you are right, death is given and we are all going to die but living is a choice, living the exponential extraordinary life is an even bigger choice”. The sloth gave a curt response, “but you are still going to die” and fighter rebutted, “but by fighting I might just live before I die”.

We can be alive and we can be living. I believe they are two different things. Surviving and passing from one day to another is one way to be. Living an extraordinary life, by choice, if I may add is another way to be. Stretching, extending, remaining curious, pushing the limits, being purposeful, adventurous and determined comes with huge benefits. It brings it’s challenges as well but it also lit and bring zest to a life that can be otherwise drab. When we operate in flow, we are clear about our goals and purpose and attack it with the force of nature out life becomes more meaningful and tastier. There is nothing wrong in consuming tasteless bland food but there is a lot right in eating well seasoned tasty food. The choice is always ours. How do we truly want to live this life, by Spartan Law or by Slothful Law?

Choose wisely!

An angel of God showed me the other day a scene at the climbing wall. A main in his 60s tentatively climbing wall after wall, a young girl of about 11 years old scaling up the wall speedily like a Gecko and a number of bystanders made up of a mixed bag of people observing. The bystanders were debating as to whether the 60 year old should still be climbing or not. I was taken to another scene in the climbing wall arena and I saw a wealthy man strapped up climbing and next to him was a man who looked liked he had had some rough time in life, you could tell from his clothing and the not too subtle whiff coming from him, he was climbing as well. I saw another lady who purely from observation appear to be someone that must have had an above average liking for food. The last person I saw was splitting image of David Beckham, if I was a swearing person, I would swear it was him, but hard to tell, he had his trade mark smile. All of them were climbing away, grabbing at one obstacle after another to get to the top of the wall. Once they get to the top of the wall, they all came down so quickly and started another ardours climb after another. Nobody stayed at the top of a wall for more than a few seconds, it was down again. After all the climbing, they left and went home.

I met a friend the other day, he is extremely accomplished and had head a number of major businesses. Been the MD and CEO of some household name companies. He is so full of wisdom and experience. Anytime we meet up, time spent with him is a treat, I sponge out of him as much as I can in the very brief moment we have together. Today we met up and he apologised that he couldn’t spend a lot of time with me as he had a very important meeting with his mentor. I was slightly taken aback, somehow I had put him on a kind of pedestal as this all-knowing individual. But I caught myself and I regrouped. I had a vision of his mentor, a sage elderly man with white beards, wisdom and experience oozing out of every pores. So causally I asked, even though I felt I already had an idea, ‘and who is your mentor?’. He said ‘this particular mentor, I will be spending a few days with him, he is extremely knowledgeable and proficient in this and that. He does not have an office yet, I will be meeting in his garage and he will take me through stuff’. I got more curious, the description was not tallying with my image. So I asked ‘and who is he? Is it anyone I would know by any chance? He said ‘No’ he is a young man in his late twenties who happens to be very good at what he does.

A friend of mine, told me the other day she has regularly meetings with some young people. So I asked what area was she training or mentoring them on. She told me that ‘No’ she goes to meet up with them to be inspired by their rawness, eagerness, hunger and zest for life. She told me that unless we are learning afresh, being renewed, climbing new walls after new walls, tackling one obstacle after another and bringing ourselves down to start a new climb, we will become stiff and deteriorate. She told me that she meets people who proudly displays their ‘T-shirt telling her all they have done and where they have been and they definitely have the ‘T’ shirt to show for it and there was no doubt they had accomplished a lot, it was written all over the T shirt but the shirt was old and dated. And the question was ‘why don’t you get a new current ‘T’ shirt? And the reply was that ‘there will be nothing written on it!’ of course there will be nothing written on it, that is the issue, but an issue that can easily be resolved, accomplished more, break new grounds, climb new walls, slay new dragons! Then we will have new T shirt with new writings.

No one among us is too big, too old, too wealthy, so accomplished to climb another wall. The moment we decide we are too much for the climbing arena, then it is time to go home. It is not a spectator sport. In the mouth of babes and suckling, he ordained praise. Let’s all emulate the learning and regenerating spirit of youth. We can do this, we’ve got it!

I stood underneath the tree, I was so hungry, I needed to eat, I was famished not just needing a snack, but genuinely requiring nourishment, the hunger was so much that I started shaking and shivering. In my state I grabbed the tree with my two hands, shook it vigorously demanding that it rain down some nourishment on me. I did these for hours, not a single fruit fell down. Rather a few branches and leaves from the tree came down on me. I walked away from the tree, I did not go far and I came back, stood a fair distance and eyed the tree, giving it all kinds of ugly stares and stern looks for hours but nothing happened again.

That was when I moved closer, I was now angry, hungry and angry I started punching and kicking the tree vigorously, in the process hurting my knuckles and feet. I rained all kind of abuse and insult on the tree, not mincing my words, I told it how ugly and disgusting it was with it’s wrinkly brown skin and placid mild manner stance. I told the tree how self-centred, selfish, uncaring and aloof it was. Like Jeremy Clarkson and Meghan, I told the tree how I hated it at the cellular level and wished all kind of evil upon it. I was livid and mad, I had needs that the tree has not met and I could not understand the existence of the tree, as far as I was concerned the tree was just cumberring the land in its docile, unflinching, unhelpful and disengaging state. I wished annihilation on the tree, total death on it. I knew there was no logic or rational to me behaviour, I am not sure if I knew but I felt justified in my self righteous indignation. I was seeing red, I was mad and wanted justice for all my unmet needs and self inflicted wounds. Done with all my venom and anger I slumped like a sack of sand at the base of the tree exhausted from the truma of my behaviour.

I slept off and an angel of God appeared to me asking what ailed me. I explained my situation. The angel admonished me to put my hands to work, for he that does not work will not eat. He told me that it was not the season for the fruit bearing tree, in it’s season it will bear it’s fruits. He gently led me from the base of the tree to a place of peace and calm, I found my calling, worked with my hands, clarified my vocation and nourished my soul.

After a long time, I was in town and I passed by the tree, it was in season and all the branches were drooping with rich jucy fruits, the ground was littered as well. There was abundance. I was in a good place, I was not famished or in need. I plucked just one fruit, shared fellowship, ate and continued my journey.

To all trees out there, fear not the terror by night or the arrow that flies by day time. To all tree shakers, don’t shake the tree before it’s time, for you will hurt the tree or kill it but more importantly you will poison yourself for the fruits are unripe and unsuitable for consumption. In His time, He makes all things beautiful.

I use to work in a Dog refuge, and we had all kinds of dog brought in, rescued from the street. Some had a difficult previous life, some a ‘not too bad’ life, some actually had a good life and maybe their owner passed on and there was no one to look after them. Turnaround for dog was quite interesting and never followed any defined pattern, it was more of a random walk. We get to know all the dogs, some were incredibly lovely despite the life they have lived, some were not particularly nice, others were wary of people and kept to themselves. Their motto was ‘feed me and leave me alone’.

There was Mifu a light brown Labrador Retriever, easy going, peaceful and playful, she had a massive heart, complimented by her looks, a stunning dog with beautiful soulful eyes that spoke volume. Sometimes she lacked confidence other times she was boisterous, her parent died in an accident shortly after she was born. Her first carer was abusive and treated her roughly, she still had scars on her though they have healed pretty well. Her personality was a bit restrained and atimes she was unsure of herself. But she was so easy to teach, an eager dog , keen to please and willing to learn. So appreciative and would reward each session of play with a unique dance, wagging of tail and spinning on the floor. I would take Mifu home if I could but I couldn’t.

Lots of people will come in to the shelter wanting to adopt a dog, Mifu had a run that made no sense to me. They would come in, stop at Mifu’s pen, stare at her, play with her, she will get all excited thinking she has met her new owner, but ‘No’ not to be, the person will move on and pick another dog. Sometimes potential owners will come in that want Mifu but not meeting our criteria we couldn’t release her to them. It was heartbreaking seeing her rejected one after the other. Someone would walk in, all the staff will think yes this is the day, it is this one then it will turned out that it’s a ‘no’, not this one!’ I was counting, some will spend a few minutes, others an hour or so checking her out, appearing very keen, saying all the right things but nothing will come out of it. Today the 11th person to show interest in Mifu walked in, a man named Tigg, he really wanted a dog, always liked dogs, his last dog went wild, attacked him and destroyed his things, so he was rightfully cautious, we tried to reassure him that Mifu was a peaceful and loving dog. For 12 weeks he kept coming to the refuge regularly and spent a bit of time with Mifu, he wanted to be sure. He will skip a week or so but he kept coming back. We were all hopeful and excited, he was an expressionless man, so quite difficult to figure out was going on in his mind. But given he kept coming back we thought this was it. Mifu was growing fond of him and always happy to see him. Tigg was saying all the right things, asking all the right questions about process and procedures. We were all sure that it was just a matter of time and all the paper work will be sorted out and Mifu will be in a happy home. Last minute Tigg developed cold feet and just never came back to the Shelter again, nobody knew what happened, Mifu was devastated, all the staff at the shelter were disappointed and crushed for Mifu.

One Sunny spring day, walked in Danny, a dog lover, done all his work, knew all the procedure, had his place all ready . All arrangements for a dog had been done, house all sorted out, his vehicle kitted out, house all stock up with dog food and toys. Holiday arrangements all in place for Mifu to be cared for when he travelled, this was interest no 12, Mifu had calm down by this time, she had been disappointed many times. Though still keen, her confidence had build up, she was confident in her skin, no longer over excited, more relaxed, dignified in her appearance and approach. There was a connection and willingness, after a long wait, Mifu and Danny went home together. Mifu was happily settled with a caring dog lover.

So much to learn from the story of Mifu, so many times we go from one rejection to another, problems to problems, trial to trials, tribulations to tribulations with no apparent reason. People tell us to go and wash in a river to cleanse the failures and rejection away, others tell us there is a force of darkness, spiritual attack, suppressive pressure etc surrounding us or we are just accident or rejection prone. We go after this and after that. We are hopeful and believe it is this one, but it turns out not to be and then we think it is the next and the next one and the one after but again it is not. Yet another rejection letter, failed projects after failed project, another car accident, another failed relationship, another planning refusal, another builder has done a runner, we came down another wall, nothing is working, we can’t see any result for all our efforts in the gym, all our tradings have gone awry, family have turned sour, our health is struggling, life makes no sense etc. We are on the 11th run and we are ready to pack it in but just when we felt it was over, that it can’t improve or turn around, when we heard so many ‘No’s, when our hearts have sank over and over, when we have lost it all too many times. When we have heard ‘Not this one’ 11 times, let’s please keep faith and hope, for on the 12th round our Danny will arrive and it will be a ‘Yes, this is the one I want!’

Wait for Danny!

How much the wound hurts! It wept and oozed. It was swollen, tender and raw. The plaster had done a good job so far. It came on smart and neat, fitted snug, concealing everything. Stamped on it, keeping it all together, presenting a respectable front. But like all plasters it got worn, tired and frayed and fell off. The wound was never healed and that was when the pain re-emerged. We blamed the plaster, kicked at the wrong pole, barked at the wrong tree. What has the plaster got to do with the pain? It was just a temporary fix, sometimes allowing healing to take place, other times deferring the healing while providing a temporary relief. We always have to fix the problem, get to the source of the real issue and deal with it. That was never the job of the plaster. Plasters are drawn to wounds in the same manner that wounds are drawn to plaster, a distracting attraction that enables indulgence and delays the work of healing, in some cases exacerbating the disease. If only we have the strength to say ‘no thank you’ anoint our wound, allowing it to weep all it needed to and breath, from deep within it starts healing then we will never need a plaster. Having said that, there are times the wound is a surface wound and it is a plaster job, but that doesn’t work for deep wounds.