Sand Artists are a breed of Artist that simply blow my mind away. I was researching some of their work on line and awed at the dedication and creativity. But the work is ephemeral, it is temporary. No matter how beautiful the work is, nature comes in the form of rain, wind, sea, snow etc and washes it all away, nothing last forever they say and you wonder ‘why bother going through all that trouble?’ Most finish their work, stand by and watch as the elements washes away the work and it’s gone. Someone was telling me yesterday about a ritual where Tibetan Monk Sand Artists come together produce Sand Mandalas, they don’t wait for the elements to grab it from them, they actually jointly blow it all away! And we gasp, because like that it is all gone! A sand Artist Kobe Williams succinctly articulated the essence of this art when he said that these arts remains more in our spirit than in our home …. Wow! That was an aha aha moment for me, no element can touch that which is stored in the spirit. It has been created, it can not be uncreated, but it does not have to be physically present to continue to exist, we cause ourselves so much pain when we do not understand the timing, the transition from the physical to the spirit. Imagine the pain of a Sand Artist that stands vigil and guard, doing all in his power to prevent the erosion of his physical work, a futile and fruitless effort showing a lack of understanding of the true storage of the things of this life. The scripture admonishes us not to store our treasures where moth and rust corrupt. In this world everything without exception tends to corruption.

I couldn’t help thinking of this in light of relationships. Some relationships if not all are ephemeral, it is the length of time that differs. In the true sense there is no everlasting but we still hold on tightly like our existence depends on them. I want to be careful as I present this because it could be misunderstood and misconstrued that I am advocating that we nilly willy discard relationships. Not at all, but I am still saying some relationships are simply like sand art and once it has done it’s work we must blow it away, yes blow it away and store the beautiful memories of it in our spirit, when we don’t do that we allow the elements to grab it from us and we are distraught. Elements in this form can be abuse, desertion, neglect, toxicity etc. I have read, heard and seen people who stopped living when life removes people from their lives, when the elements washes away the sand. I have heard of romantic partners that commit suicide or end up in mental institutions because a relationship ends. Some don’t fair as badly but stop thriving and spend endless amount of time depressive, sobbing and lost. Please stay with me on this, this is a very difficult write up and I know I am touching on some raw nerves and hitting very sensitive issues. I am not advocating people end their marriages, do not work at important but trying relationships or toss their relatives under the bus but I am saying there are times we must let go. Circumstances, discernments, honesty, bravery will tell us when those times apply. I understand our attachment to love ones and the grieving period that ensues when we are separated from them and we can not just lackadaisically compare people to sand art work but I will like us to see where we can borrow a leaf from the book of these artist so that in our spirit (where no rust or moth can corrode) we can continue to hold on dearly to what is precious to us whilst accepting the inevitable physical end where it applies . And maybe we can gently blow off some relationships before it becomes toxic whilst we still have some beauty to hold on to in our memories.

They beckon to be plucked, their beauty is inviting, they attract us and draw us in involuntarily and like zombies without thinking or considering we move close and we pluck them. We had no intention, no pre plan, we know not what to do with that which is in our hand, we sniff it, stare at it for a bit and then we discard it indifferently. Sometimes we pull it apart and flung it petal by petal away, other times we crush it whole under our feet. And there are times we just place it absentmindedly on the table and allow it to wither and die. We do not deserve any part of it, but because it was easily accessible, beautiful and had a soft stem we plucked it anyway. Brute human with no conscience! The question never cease to bother me, ‘why will the maker create such beauty, such tenderness, such vulnerability with no guard, no protection, roses have thorns which serves as a deterrent but not all beauties come with thorns, they atimes die in the hands of the undeserving.

Some have a glorious path, they get plucked by a caring gardener or just a caring person. She picks them, respecting their tenderness, has all the right intentions, tools and knowledge, position them in the right environment, feeds and water them ensuring there is the right amount of sunlight. Places them in a position of honour and some even speak to them. They live and die a dignified death. Some leave them all together allowing them to grow and thrive where nature placed them.

Some say ‘it’s all because you have a soft stem’ in a condemning tone. How can you judge a person based on their innate makeup? No man created himself, some will argue ‘recreate yourself, toughen up’. Do we really want to do that, but most importantly can we really do that? Can a softie become a toughie? What will life look like, when we move to pluck a flower but the stem are as tough as old boots?

Stay soft!

Not much to the stand, yet I stand, so brief, if you blink, you had miss it, yet I stand. What a stand! Unpromising, undignified, underwhelming, unimpressive yet I stand. I wobble, I am unsteady, I am unsure, I look scared and confuse because I am , yet I stand. I did not lift a foot, rooted to the spot as I know not how to walk or where to go, yet I stand. My legs are far apart in a wide stance, facing away from each other, with no harmony or synchronicity, wagging internal battle between themselves, questioning the merit of standing and the probability of sustaining the stand, yet I stand. Like a newly released ex-convict I stand outside the prison gates knowing I not going back inside but without a clue where I am going or how I will survive, yet I stand.

Unable to maintain the gaze of the world staring at me I look away least I lose the stand, yet I stand. How I long to move, to join those walking, skipping, jogging, running, sprinting, jostling etc all around me, I could do none of those for I know not how to, so today I stand. I have no clear idea why I am standing but the urge to stand outweigh the comfort of sitting or crawling so I stand. I am so sorry I wet myself standing for I know not how to move back or down, go forward or backward.

I wept but today I stand!

So for my ‘special’ birthday , some well meaning smart Alec decided to do a photo slide as part of the celebration event. Much kudos for the effort and credit to my parents who were able to produce photos from when I was a baby, so everything from birth to date was on display. I lie not some of it was cringy for me to watch, but being the celebrant I had to put on my smiley face and pretend I was enjoying this part of the event. There was a photo of me I couldn’t get over, as a toddler, crawling around and picking up ‘God knows what’ from the floor and popping it into my month. I can hear you say, ‘but that is what toddlers do’ that knowledge did not help my cringe factor, the cringe barometer was at an all time high level with that particular photo. I couldn’t fully decipher my emotions, a mixture of embarrassment with anger and whatever. I am not sure who or what I was angry with. I couldn’t tell if it was myself for once being a toddler or my parents for preserving the evidence or the well meaning Alec for making it public knowledge. I tried my best to self sooth and self talk myself that this was simply part of the process of growth. I questioned nature on why we had to go through the process of crawling and why the whole growing up could not be compressed and some ‘embarrassing’ aspect cut out all together as they seem to add nothing in the larger scheme of things.

Yes my thinking was ridiculous but how many times have we questioned the ‘crawling stage’ in areas of our lives as adults. Every new area we want to get right quickly, we do not want to crawl and we definitely do not want to pick dirt and put in our month. Whatever happens we do not want any cringy aspect to out experiences. We do not want to kiss any frogs before getting to the Princes, we do not want the inconvenience of being a novice and clumsy. We do not want to look stupid and make a monkey of things because it is painfully embarrassing and our carefully balanced and fragile ego can not handle embarrassment. But the simple truth is that every new area where we are not experienced or proficient, there will be cringy moments, we will have to crawl and eat dirt before we stand, walk or run. It makes no difference whether it is romantic affairs, business ventures, fitness, spiritual issues, academic pursuits, new skills, friendship, new city, new job or whatever etc.

Embrace the cringe, it is just a stage!

I have been living upstairs for quite some time. Most people I know have their bedroom upstairs, it is expected. God help you if you have a downstairs bedroom, most people don’t want it, especially the way the houses are built in this country. You truly have your work cut out if your try to sell or rent out a house with downstairs bedroom. It is the purview of the elderly, infirmed or guest you will prefer to not have nosing around in the family business. In light of these I have made my lodging in the front room to the right of the house on the first floor. A small but comfortable room by most standard, however as expected exposed to all the hustle and bustle of the household just before bedtime and the snoring, nightmare, toilet trips, other ‘things’ that happen at night. I am a light sleeper so I take it all in, which means I sometimes don’t sleep. But we are all expected to sleep upstairs anyway so why moan about expectations.

I needed to move house, so I was shown this ok-ish house with a downstairs bedroom and obviously the remaining rooms upstairs. I didn’t bother tarring to check out the downstairs bedroom, admittedly I am a woman of a certain age, but as far as I am concerned not ‘that’ age just yet to want a downstairs room. The agent pressed on me to check out the downstairs bedroom. It was peaceful, quiet, undramatic, calm, had sturdy walls. The room was embracing, nurturing and warm, it was elegant in an understated way with a not often seen grace. It was spacious and light with its own bathroom. Entering in the room felt like floating in water, it was effortless yet accommodating. In my mind, I kept thinking ‘but nobody sleeps in the downstairs bedroom’ I will be cut off from every one and all the actions. That is when I recalled that the so called ‘actions’ is what has prevented me from having a good night sleep all along.

As I moved my stuff in into my downstairs bedroom, I sank into the bed, hugged and ran my fingers through the fluffy throw pillows as I stared up into the high ceiling, I felt at home as a gentle slow sleep worked it’s way into my body, I smiled realising that I am a downstairs bedroom person all long with no business upstairs.

Know yourself, live your truth!

Hyperinflation is headache for any Government or Macro Economist, it is uncontrollable and hinders any form of long term planning. It is frustrating for the masses and just crippling for a nation. In advanced Economies all attempts are made to control inflation. Hyperinflation leads to erosion of value. I have friends and family back home who lament the excessive increase in the cost of goods and services. There is no rhyme or reason to the increase. You go to the market today get a price, next week the price has no resemblance to last week’s price, we are not talking a little increase, we are talking 20%, 30%, 50% or more increase in prices. People can’t relate or cope, resulting in all kind of unproductive behaviour, hoarding and the like.

I remember during the rising property market here in the UK, your offer on a property has been accepted, you start putting all your finances in order, arranging survey, legals and all what not. You get a call, you have been gazumped, someone has offered more or the price has gone up, the seller wants more money, you are stumped, angry, what can you do? You can offer more, a bidding war ensues, or you have nothing more to offer, you walk away, you loose out. The price has gone up.

What is described above is not ideal, however ‘no inflation’ is not ideal either, some level of inflation is normal, essentially, it shows that there is growth, for without growth there is regression, death if you like. Inflation becomes the measurement of growth, we all want a child to grow steadily, what we don’t want is abnormal growth. Growth is not restricted to the economy or to a child, as adults we need to grow as well, a level of inflation is normal, there must be some price increase in our lives, entry fee must not remain the same. When I was a child I behaved like a child, all and every one could afford and have access to my time, presence, my company, my space, I was as cheap as chips and as easy as pie. No, that does not fly, we have to put some character and value, up the price, let there be some rational inflation. The price has gone up, I am worth a lot more now, I don’t just fall apart with a few charming words, you don’t walk off and stroll back with the same lackadaisical attitude and chicken change in your hands, it cost a lot more now. You don’t come with unwashed hands and dirty feet and expect to sit at the table with me, the price has gone up. You don’t just bamboozle yourself to my front door with a cheap bottle of wine and expect entrance, no the price has gone up. The fact that you have my phone number doesn’t mean you can just call me anytime and expect me to answer, no the price has gone up. The fact that we went to school together and played together in the sand, doesn’t mean you can still bring the same kindergarten attitude, the price has gone up. Yes there was a time when I was low value, had low self confidence, but I have been gentrified, the price has gone up, you can only live in this neighbourhood if you can afford the price. There was a time when I would sit and listen to all non uplifting rhetoric, but that time is gone, the price has gone up, my time is valuable, priceless. Before I begged you to come into my store, I chase you to purchase from me , now there is a long waiting list for you to get in, the price has gone up. I wanted to be your friend but you wouldn’t even give me the time of day, today I can’t remember your name, the price has gone up. I cried and cried, begged and begged for your company, but today I just don’t care, for the price has gone up. Yesterday I was down casted because of the negative words that were spoken, today I can’t hear them , too busy building my life and when I hear them I am unmoved, for the price has gone up. Value has been infused into every aspect of my life. My whole being is underpinned with value, there is fire under my feet, this ride has been pimped, the price has gone up.

Don’t settle for less, strengthen your weakest part, have an underbelly of steel, drive up the price, have some steady inflation in your life. Let no man trouble you, the price just went up!

So my ‘brother friend’ decided he and his wife are taking me out to watch a movie. I am sure you are wondering, what is a brother friend? That is when you have a male friend who is older and behaves like an older brother, advising you, caring and watching out for you, in turn you defer to him. Anyway I met them at Bayswater or Lancaster Gate, can’t remember, this was years ago, they had already bought snacks – croissants, fruits and drinks. I felt so special, you would think I never had croissants in my life. The atmosphere was so warm and pleasant, I was happy, had this silly grin on my face as we walk all the way to the Cinema. It was short lived though, the silly grin turned into weird grimace, the moment I saw the title of the movie, ‘A Time to Kill’ , in my mind I immediately started to question their taste in movies and a lot of things. ‘Who are this people?’, I thought. Suddenly they became ‘these people’ no longer my brother friend and his wife.

I need to mention that at this time in my life I was as closed minded as an unshucked oyster. There was no way I was going to watch a movie with such a title, so with the weird grimace permanently plastered on my face, my brain was racing to plot a means of escape, I thought of feigning tummy bug and locking myself in the toilet all through the movie but even I decided that will be extreme. I concluded that since I will be sitting to one end of both of them, I will strategically place my head on my hand and discreetly insert one finger in both ears to block so I could not hear anything, I would also close my eyes to prevent unpleasant sight. The couple obviously had something different planned, for reasons best known to them, they sandwiched me between both of them, my blockage plan down the drain with both of their eyes peering at me I was forced to watch and listen. What a movie! I must say.

Just to be clear, I will still never subscribe to killing any one, but I learnt the path to peace is rarely peaceful. By nature I am a peaceful and peace loving person, shunning conflict, discord, chaos, fights, confusions and the lot. Peace however is the outcome of fight in the same manner that resolutions comes after an intense moment. In life being a passive, docile person gets nobody anywhere as troubled, troubling and troublesome people abound. The kingdom of God is a place of peace, the scripture however says, the kingdom of God suffereth violence and the violent takes it by force. We are told that as much as it lies in our power we should live at peace with all men. It takes power to have peace, whether physical, mental or psychological power. Real peace is not the forte of the passive. We are told to labour to enter into the rest of God, again this is a place of peace but calls for labour. When God wanted to release His children from bondage to a place of peace, it was not a peaceful process, blood was shed. In our times a number of nations that have their Independence and enjoy some level of peace had to pay dearly with the souls of people to obtain such peace. A couple I know who seemed very peaceful, told me it wasn’t so in the beginning, it was a lot of fight to establish what was acceptable and not acceptable. A neighbourhood that now enjoys peace had to make all the hooligans, gangs and armed robbers understand that certain behaviour will not be tolerated. At work, in family and all aspect of society, if we truly want peace we have to understand that path can be turbulent and difficult.

I watched another movie, some years later, I have forgotten the title. An innocent white collar man was thrown into prison and the hooligans there kept picking on him, almost killing him until he was advised that if he wanted to survive prison, he had to do certain things to earn his peace, he did it and he got peace. Again I will reiterate I can never subscribe to killing but the concept of fighting for peace is now well engrained in my mind. I understand the meek will inherit the earth, but the meek must also know how to fight when it is time to fight. There are two responses to any situation , fight or flight , some will add a third, freeze. Keep all in your arsenal and know when to use them. We can’t always flee, that doesn’t make sense and it doesn’t always bring peace.

Peace is priceless, earned with life, the Prince of Peace paid with His life. Be prepared to do all within your power for peace. Selah!

I was going home, got off the train, wasn’t going to grab the bus, neither was I driving home, I didn’t even park my car in the train station car park, it is at home. I’ve got to strengthen these legs and heart, my mind needs clearing out, the 20 minutes walk home does wonder for my whole being. It’s not just a good idea but a survival strategy. Anyway as I powered on I saw from the distance someone I have made her a LMmlllllllllfx acquaintance, a lady that lives about 10mins from me, she lives half way between my house and the train station.

As I drew closer, she was sitting by the roadside, it had started drizzling now and I wondered why she would sit on the roadside on a dirty rickety chair that someone had abandoned. The chair is an interesting part of this story. Without a doubt the chair was a ‘once was’ it had all the tell tale signs of a chair that graced an opulent home, covered with expensive tan real leather, holding on tightly to the meagre reminants of grace and diginity of it’s past glories. With two shaky legs, the other two were gone, it was clear it would collapse any time from now. It could neither carry its own weight or the weight of the woman sitting on it, it was just a matter of time and I mean a short time.

I approached the lady and asked her why she wouldn’t get up and walk home, it was drizzling anyway and the chair would kapow any time. She told me her legs were too weak! They couldn’t carry her home, that she would slump. I tried to explain that the chair was a facade, it couldn’t carry her weight either. She sighed and then said ‘it is my fault’ I couldn’t understand, so I asked what she meant, by this time I had helped her up and we were sort of dragging ourselves home. She told me how her late husband use to encourage her to walk and strengthen her leg and her whole body in general, but she was too lazy and never listened, instead she would insist and kick a fuss if he doesn’t hurl or chauffeur her where ever she needed to go. We heard a ‘bang’ noise, looked back and there goes the sendforth of our ‘I use to be very important and eminent posterior sat on me’ chair as it collapsed. As we reached her house the lady shuffled herself to her front door, promising to do whatever it takes to put strength into her legs.

As I continued home, I couldn’t help thinking, that how many times as human beings do we find ourselves leaning on unreliable sources in areas where we are weak. The onus is on us as adults with our mental wherewithal to will to power, to transcend ourselves, to build and strengthen those legs, otherwise we will finding ourselves sitting on unsustainable surfaces in the rain. Leg here does not just mean physical legs but every aspect of our lifes that requires strengthening, be it spirtual, emotional, psychological, relational, financial etc

I do not write as a veteran but someone in training, who constantly interrogate her life to check, where am I leaning, sitting on ‘past it’s time’ chair? Blessed is the man that sits not on his laurels but keeps strengthening those legs!

I am a big fan of Bruno Mars, so if you don’t know before now you know. ‘Leave the Door Open’ collaboration with Paak is fire! I love the song, it is one of those songs that takes me to a place and puts me in the mood. Feel free to interpret that whichever way you like. The song has style, vibe and groove, Paak’s voice is sensational. I remember sharing the song with a few people, who send me? Anyway that is what you do when you love something, you loath to keep it to yourself.

Talking about leaving the door open, there is this incredibly beautiful City, it was designed and created to be spectacular, it had everything, landscape was breathtaking, it was picturesque, blessed with abundance of resources, limitless will be the apt word, peaceful and calm, the water was blue as deep sea, the core of the city breathe life, it came forth as a new born baby, untouched, unblemished, innocent and pure as the driven snow. Everyone gasped and gapped in awe at the City, wanting a bit of it, actually a lot of it, they all wanted to be part of it. In the spirit of Silk Sonic, the City left the door open and every and any one came in, the good, the bad and the ugly, there was no censoring, no filter, no visa, no entry requirement, no boundaries. Actually to ensure the city was well populated and never lonely, all walls, gates, doors and boundaries were removed. Why be lonely when you can have a well populated city?

As you rightly guess, the city was no longer beautiful, it became troubled and defecated, the thief came in as well as the builders and they did when thieves do, they stole, the destroyer came and destroyed, the user came and used, the abuser came and abused, the fool came and did his folly, the narcissistic came and entrenched himself, the time waster came and wasted time, the confused came and confuse the whole city and there it goes, so the wise left and the builder left, the uplifter left as they could not cohabit with the unsavouriness of this world. The city groaned and moaned under the weight of the destruction, it became depressed, ugly and haggard, worn out, the heart of the city was heavy. Someone once said ‘any man that open his door to many women, will become poor, sleep on the floor and regret his whole life’ we all had a good laugh at the cheekiness of the words but the wisdom of it resounded till this day. Our beautiful city that was once rich became poor just like the man, it was plundered and pillaged for the door was left open.

Who really is the City? The beautiful city is you and I, our being is beautifully crafted, our lives are destined for greatness, our heart is a place of richness, our psyche is neat and yet from a child likeness that bothers on childishness or folly, we leave our door open, some of us actually have no door, no boundaries, no entry requirement, if you answer by the label of ‘human being’ you are welcome, I have been guilty I admit. We don’t even understand that our role is as a gate keeper, screening , allowing or rejecting entry into our lives as we consider necessary. No the door of heaven is not flung open for any and every one, even Jesus can not barrage Himself into our lives, our hearts, He stands at the door and knock and waits.

I believe there are times, we have to close shop, down tool, do some serious house keeping, build the wall, yes put in some gates, have entry requirement, let there be boundaries, toss out unsavouriness from our life, restore the beauty that once was. I know we live in an age of thousands of social media friends and followers and this has become a bragging right or medal. I guess it could work for the city we do not care much about, but that which we care much about can not be free flowing. Even Jesus only allowed a few into His inner circle

Purge out every thing that has troubled your soul, we can do this, we’ve got it! I love Silk Sonic but today we have to close that door and allow entry as required.

Be the gate keeper of your soul!

‘Never show weakness’, the saying goes, but sometimes you are weak and struggling. ‘Stay strong’, the saying also goes, but sometimes you are just not strong. We live in a world that does not reward weakness or victimhood. Oh yes, there is a temporary sympathy and support but it never lasts, in the long run the giver(s) of such support ask for a payback. The payback is a chip at your value, your worth. If you have been abused, damaged and dented you can not be worth that much. You are like a write off insurance car. You have been involved in an accident that is not your fault, who cares? Your insurance premium still goes up next time. And the car, the subject of the accident/abuse, what becomes of it? The greater the abuse/accident, the greater the devaluation. The car becomes the purchase of salvager . We find that most car owners involved in accident will do anything to hide evidence of the accident, not because they are guilty or caused the accident but because of the ensuing devaluation.

Misery sure enjoys company, but what huge price we pay for showing our wounds and accepting that company! Why do victims of domestic abuse find themselves repeatedly in similar relationships? They become like blood to Vultures, Hawks etc. Predator are always on the prey and what better prey than a previously abused or damaged person, easy to prey, plunder and pillage. Just to be clear, I will never scorn or deride the experience of abused people …. the damage cause, physically and psychologically is immense. However we live in a sometime cold and callous world where only the strong is rewarded and enthralled.

Hide your wounds, do not publicise it, heal in private, put balm in the secret of your room, come out in strength as the victim never wins. ‘It is hard’, you tell me, of course it is very hard. The journey of being a human being can be a hard one atimes. Do not be an accident damaged vehicle, a total loss, a write-off, people only pick them up on the cheap! Dust yourself up, you’ve got this, you can do it!