I sat there and lifted up my glass, ‘pour some more’ I muttered with a deep and heavy heart as realisation slowly but surely hit me. They poured it to the rim and it ran over, my glass was as light as it always was and always will be, air has no weight! Slowly I sipped my air, pausing to consider all I gave up to be partaker of the light headedness that consumed my whole body at the first taste of air. How intoxicating it was, nothing can be compared to that lift and float that encapsulate the heaviness that otherwise was my existence. “I always knew I was destined to fly” I muttered in my stupor until realisation hit me and I stumped to the ground. Maybe human were never destined to fly, to soar and experience the liberty that the soul so desires, to see, to have that helicopter view, we are grounded, earth bound creature, to seek anything outside of this could possibly be an illusion, a delusion. I took another sip from my glass as I continue to contemplate.

I have cut off my anchors and destroyed my habitat as I believe in the dream of flying. Now that I have experienced the illusion of flying I can never be content with being hurdle up like chickens and picking scrapes of food from the ground, eagle I am I thought, but am I really an eagle or am I just a chicken that grew too big for its boot? I feel like I have lost it all as I took another sip from my glass of air. It no longer intoxicates and I am no longer lifted, yet I can no longer stay happily on the ground.

We believe a dream, an illusion, it was so sweet, so fulfilling yet unreal. Reality is unbearable, such a drudgery, a weight on the soul! The soul yearns to be free. It gains the freedom and lost all, the structure it knew, the stability, the acceptance of society, the routine, the game, the ritual, you lose it all and for what? Freedom! Is it even worth the paper it is written on? I guess only time will tell. The structure and the gift is gone, The suspicious love and acceptance is gone, Air intoxicant no longer intoxicates, lt was never true, never existed but yet so strong so intense, so real, how can the fake be so impactful?

All I can do is pray, that one day I will be delivered from the obsession with air. One day I will be delivered from all that hurts, one day I will truly be free, one day I will no longer want to drink air, but we will always need air, we must breath!

She was conceived before 5am, she started life the day before, around 7pm she emerges, fragile and longing, wanting to be held, to be listened to, to be cuddled and loved, in every manner she is a child, with the needs and desires of a child, she cries out like any child will, seeking attention, validation and assurance, but she is clothed in a grown up body, so she can’t use child language, in a grown up voice she tries to convey the need of a child but none could understand and decipher her needs. Lonely and alone she soothed and comforted herself to sleep.

Love me! Love me!! Love me!!! Cries the 5am child, but none heard, so she changed the cry to, I love you! I love you!! I love you!!! But is the 5am child capable of unconditional love? The child that was not love forever looks for the love she was not given even when she is now an adult. The abusers see her vulnerability and are drawn to it. They tell her I love you! I love you!! I love you!!! But is the abuser not a damaged child as well? How can two damaged children truly love each other? Healing must take place first, independence must be established, maturity must happen before true love can be established. Dependence, addiction, attachment and lust all cunningly disguished themselves as love

At 10am, her adult self woke up to see the trail left by her child, she felt the soaked pillow from weeping, the childlike scribbling in her notepad, the aborted and abandon calls to anyone and everyone that will provide a modicum of affection. She stood still as she try to reach out and comfort the 5am child, but there was no child there, in the mirror all she could see is her adult self staring back at her, reasoning like an adult, composing herself like an adult. But she knows the child will come out again, at 7pm she will emerge. She must reach out to her, she must listen to her, but the child and the adult are one and the same, she decided to leave a note for the child.

The 5am child hasn’t got the wisdom, maturity, discernment or balance of judgement of the 10am adult. She is just needy and earnest. Yet the whole person is made up both and all need to be catered and attended to. The 5am child is scared, anxious and frightful, painfully dependent. The 10am adult must look after this child, as none sees her or can see her. She is well hidden under the flesh of the adult.

My child, there is no need to be alone or lonesome, there is no need to weep and yell, there is no need to cry out for attention, validation and assurance. You are beautiful beyond description, you are loved beyond realisation, you are blessed and secured in the hand of your creator, you are never alone, the universe that you dwell in craddles you. Relax and feel the gentle hands that surround you. Calm your heart and breath the stillness of the presence of your maker. You are loved and forever will be loved, my twillight child, breath!

We still must hear out the 5am child, every single word she has to say must be heard, she still is as valid as the 10am adult, she occupies half of the life of the person. Why must the adult have the final word? Let the child also be, let’s hear out the insane, let the immature also speak. What world do we exist in, if half of its people are denied a voice. I have use all kind of language to describe the 5am child, but maybe I am wrong, maybe I have been unfair, maybe I have misdiagnosed her, maybe it is her time to be, maybe it is her time to shine. Maybe the adult will never thrive until the child is at peace and at rest and can ensure the child’s need have been catered to. We must listen to the child. Child wants to play!

She can’t wait, can’t process it, can’t endure it, can’t tolerate it, can’t see it through, can’t deal with it. Does not understand it, can’t value it. Makes no sense to her. It’s not for the child, this is adult stuff, pure grown up stuff, for those who have their senses exercised to discern between good and evil. Discernment is the key here, on the surface it is not good, it does not look right, it does not tally, it pushes us to the limit of our endurance, our tolerance can take no more. It frustrate us to no end. The child throws in the towel.

But the adult calms himself down and looks beyond and above, the adult looks deep within and unpicks the intricate bits. The adult digest slowly and thoroughly. The adult waits patiently. The adult endures the sting of the bees to get to the honey. The adult knows the value. The adult knows this is not light weight, he knows this is the real deal and is prepared to pay the price, and there is a price to be paid, trust me! This is not an easy climb, oh no, it is not. Hard and vigilant work all the way to the peak of the mountain. But what a view at the top! Mountain climbing is not for the light headed, there is giddiness and unsteadiness to contend with. Balance is the key, focus is the watchword, steadiness is the anchor. Some relationships are worth the trouble.

There is an erroneous saying that there is no type of God, but there is always a type of man. Not true! All men are different whilst some are particularly unique and gifted and when we meet such we must be prepared to pay the price to partake of the gift. Some people are not just for the child in us, only our adult self can handle them.

Love the child, but know when to sooth her and send her to sleep. Let you adult self handle the transaction. God bless!

So early in the morning I was going for my usual morning walk, as you do, you got to keep fit, you know. I normally passed by this dilapidated building which is deserted, no big deal about that. But today was different, there was activity, it was fenced round, there was a skip and builders etc some form of construction or refurbishment was going on. Being the nosey person that I was, I walked over, a gentle knock on the black metal gate. A burly man came to find out what I was about. I explained that I was just a friendly neighbour wanting to know what was going on. He explained they were turning the site to a part commercial part residential building. I left having satisfied my curiosity.

True to his word, 6 months later, all boarding were gone and in the place of a derelict building was 3 spanking new stores and above 4 residential flat. With the ‘to let’ sign up, I remain intensely interested and kept checking to see who would move in, in no time everything was occupied. In one of the commercial unit was an eatery. I popped in to pay homage and to my very pleasant surprise, I found they sell the softest, creamiest, yummiest beans. You’ve probably figure out that I love beans, so every lunch time (I work from home, by the way, in light of the outbreak) I always pop in and I was never dissapointed. Always cooked to my satisfaction.

I stuck a friendship with the main lady their, I assumed she was the manager and I told her how much I enjoyed the food. I went on to ask that I hope you wasn’t leaving any time soon. She told me that she was the owner of the business and that she actually live in one of the flats upstairs, so she was not going anywhere soon. She went on to assure me that the beans was her signature dish. She and the beans were always going to be there. I was assured and felt my life was well secured.

One day I went in and the beans didn’t taste as good. It was a bit grainy and crunchy. It seems to have been cooked with weevil in it. It wasn’t a huge problem and I felt everyone is entitled to the occasional off day. The next time I went in the dish was so watery lacking any taste or flavour. I was puzzled as the owner was still there, I couldn’t understand, I concluded she must be going through a bad patch or some difficulty and things will be restored. However things never went back to how it was, the only thing that was consistent was the lady was still there. I went there some more and after some time there was no beans available! I asked and she assured me it was a short term scarcity, so I kept going every lunch time and there was no beans, always one story or the other.

I started getting a bit angry, then a lot angry, resented the bean seller, I hated her for what she did to me, the way she treated me, how she raised my hopes, how she promised what she could not deliver on, she couldn’t keep to her words. I felt she used me, when she was new and nobody knew her, she was diligent in cooking what I liked, she had my patronage. Now she is well known, she didn’t care about people like me anymore, use and dump me. The whole thing became very person, I started avoiding her on the street and whenever I run into her I refuse to greet her. I also went on a crusade and bad mouthed her and talked about her to any and every one that cared to listened.

One day as I was going about my usual tirade to a friend. She asked if this was about my love for beans or hatred for the bean seller. That got me thinking, at this point things were all muddled up, I was discombobulated. I basically had lost the plot. My friend told me that if it was about beans that there were other beans sellers a few street from mine, that I should try them. She also made me to understand that it is within my bean seller prerogative to choose whether she continues to sell beans or not, especially if it is no longer economically viable for her. At that point I realised that I was barking at the wrong tree, actually there was no need to bark at all, I just need to go down a few streets to get my beans and everyone is happy.

Likewise in relationship how many times, do we behave in a similar manner to me and the bean seller. A relationship stops providing what attracted us in the first place and rather than graciously accept the end of what was once really beautiful and seek for other sources when the well dries up. We start all kind of drama, we get angry, resentful, we cry, we get depressed, we sulk …etc. It’s very simple, they stopped selling beans, just find another bean seller, your soul will always crave beans. Let the old bean seller dwell in peace, wish them well as you move on and don’t be a stalker checking if per chance, things might be back to how it was, no it wouldn’t, move on!

As I travel in I encountered her, so precious and fragile, I gasped! She had been there all along, she had been ignored, deserted and neglected for so long, none had checked in on her, by herself she had sat in darkness and solitude longing for company, just wanting to play, to engage, to share her inner most being, to share her light and beauty, that was all she seeked.

Pure and gentle, lighter than day. None has been able to protect her because none can get close enough, they’ve tried, but in the process they have crushed and broken her, but yet she is strong, she has been damaged but not destroyed, she starts the process of self repair.

They are not evil, they just don’t know, they don’t know how, they don’t know her, confuse and clueless, brash and brute, they don’t understand how delicately and intricately she has been woven. They walk over, mishandled and maltreated her, they abuse that which should be treasured.

What a stunning piece she is! All want to touch her, but they can’t handle her, they just can’t! It’s not a job for the many, the masses that are attracted to her radiance, but for the few with the gentlest, softest and tenderest of touch. He who is ordained and chosen may come close, just him. Her caretaker may approach, he knows and understand her. In the mean time she must care for herself.

It’s been long, my fragile and beautiful one!

No I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t enter the cage, I have served my time (was it really my time?) I am not going back to prison. I will not sit in darkness, I have seen the light. My soul has been lifted, I will not be depressed any longer. The force of light is shinning I will not draw back to perdition. There is a lightness beckoning to me, I will not go back to heaviness. I refuse to accept the burden. Freedom is my lot, I shall not be in bondage.

I stand for freedom, I will not flinch, if I must die on this path, so be it. My soul yearns to be free, my being longs to soar, I will not be held down. I know not where I will fly to, but fly I must. The fear of the unknown is real, but fear will not hinder my progress. I must go to the light, I can no longer dwell in darkness. I must break the shackles, one after the other, I must loosen the ties. A wrong move is not a sentence of death, of eternal judgement. The gaolers will be provoked, but the prisoner must go. This is a wrong imprisonment, an unjust one. The judgement was wrongly passed, light must shine, the eye must collide with the light and adjust to it. I am a child of light, of joy, of happiness, I must fly to the light.

I must proceed without the fear of the whip, the restraining hand must be stop. I must leave the restricting energy and the constricting voice, I must move to a light airy room. The gaolers are mad! Prison is not the place for my soul. To the light I go!

I am servant of destiny, here to obey the divine call, in the process I will hurt some, love some, be indifferent to some. I hate no one, I love no one, I am here to do as bideth. Please don’t hate me, I am just a servant. If I don’t touch you, it’s because I am not allowed. If I touch you, it’s because I am allowed. Don’t applaud me for what I do, I am just a programmed servant, doing that which I am programmed to do. Don’t hurl abuse at me either, I am doing as ordered.

I must not judge myself, I must not beat myself up. I cannot understand because it is not for me to understand, I am here to do my biding. Nothing is wrong with me, I am a servant of destiny. In surrender to my destiny I find my peace. I can not fight the call for I don’t fully know or understand the purpose.

I am part of a bigger picture and so are you. We are all part of destiny, part of something that is way beyond us, incomprehensible by our finite mind. Like the water current we are all being swept up together. Some will die, some will thrive. Some will sink some will swim. No man is responsible but destiny. Point not the finger at man for the doings of the Lord. Blame not man, praise not man. As we have no say in the matter.

Be gentle and steady as things start to fit together, be! We can not fight the unseen hands nor can we argue with the invisible force. What is written is written, what is ordained is ordained, we are just but cogs in the wheel as it rolls on. Like magnet we gravitate towards that which must be and repelled that which is not. I don’t do the choosing. Hindrances and blockage lines the wrong path and no amount of perseverance and persistence will clear the way. In destiny there is flow, temporary blockages eventually give way.

I must not fight destiny, you must not fight destiny. We are all only a servant of destiny. No guilt, Let Your will be done!

… so he’s Dad gave him an amazing toy. The boy was ecstatic, the boy didn’t fully understand the workings of the toy, but he was ready to explore. All he knew was that it was his and ready to go. The Dad however told him he can only use it sparingly, close to no time at all.

He had the toy he can’t play with, we all have that toy we can’t play with.

… organisation parrot the slogan of equality without any intention or ability to see it through or make it a reality, mission statements of both small and large organisations promises to offer equal opportunities to all. Schools, resturants, stores and all form of institutions promises the same. But truth is none had been able to deliver on this promise, not for lack of trying on the part of the small minority. We are born into an unequal world and mandated to find our way in it. A quick scan of our body and we struggle to find any two equal parts, even those parts that look equal on close examination are not.

Inequality has been the undoing of many a family, frienship, groups, societies etc. In some instance, all starts out well, similarly the same, until time and space reveals differences and inequality and this is when the beast is unleashed, all form of ugliness begins to rear its head. The ones that feels below or behind starts to stab at the back of the one ahead and bruise his heel. The one ahead crushes the head of the one below and the enmity is established. The envy, jealousy, backbiting, detest, bitterness and all manner of bile on the part of the one that feels lacking. With pride, arrogance, snobbery, aloftness, pretentiousness, condescension, elitism, haughtiness, airs, disdainfulness and exclusiveness on the part of the ones supposedly ahead.

Inequality is here to stay and as we do not treat one ear or one eye better or worse than the other we are encouraged to find our balance in life.

“… it touched the nerves!” Now that is a different ball game altogether, everything else is child’s play, this is the real deal. This is not the first time I have had back pain, but herinated disc took it to another level.

So as I bent to stretch my hamstrings post my run, my back gave, I thought I could just sit down and shake it off, little did I realise that I was about to commence the journey into the worse pain I have ever experienced. L5/S1 disc had slipped on my lower back! There is pain and there is pain, this was excruciating, I did not get it! it went down my left leg all the way to my toes. The pain was too intense to scream. I had always thought that there was no pain that Ibuprofen could not handle. I was to learn very quickly, I was rolling and groaning in pain for weeks, unable to sleep. The GP had to bring out the big gun of pain killers, I was given Tramadol – now that is a drug that requires it’s own write up, but I must leave that for another day. Getting off Tramadal was another struggle in itself but I must admit, it took the edge off the pain. Slowly but surely my pain started to subside and in about 6 to 8 weeks I was virtually pain free. I was so relieved, not fully understanding what caused the pain, I swore to stay away from any likely culprit and erroneously ruled out running and just took life easy.

I was so happy to be pain free but noticed that I was left with a rather irritating numbness at back of my left calf all the way to the two little toes on that same foot. I went to physio and they explained that I must just learn to live with the numbness as when the sciatic nerves have been touched or damaged it could be permanent. Operation to trim the disc away from the nerve is possible, however they advised that the ensuing risk outweighs the benefits. So I have been forced to live with this numbness.

How numb have we become to hurts and pains in our lives? We’ve just learnt to live with it.