… and what is the big deal about red? Why not blue, green, yellow or black? I don’t know but they hate red, some have suggest that bulls are colour blind, they don’t hate red, it is the matador’s cape that irritates them. Well I don’t really know and at some level I don’t care, all I know is that something sends the bull into a mad rage be it the colour red or the cape. In my opinion, it is only a fool that stands in a cage waving a red cape at a bull trying to rationalise why the fury, he or she will have a long time on the hospital bed to ponder the question if he lives to tell the tale, unless of course he is a trained handler.

Maybe there is a reason for everything, maybe there is no causeless curse, maybe there is a reason why the swallow wanders, the bird flies, the arrows go in a certain direction, maybe nothing is random, maybe stock market can be outperformed consistently, maybe everything is on synch. The hidden things belong to the Lord and those that are revealed belong to us ….! Let us leave the hidden things alone and live with the realm of those that are revealed. In order words let’s apply the wisdom we already have, let us just the knowledge we have acquired first even if we must seek more. To ignore fundamental is fool hardy.

If I am married to man a man given to rage, fury and anger, that is his nature, I have come to know that, it is irrelevant whether he should be like that or not, that is how he is, if he treasure my sanity and peace, I stay out of his way and try not to provoke him. ‘What about my right to freedom of speech?’ You ask. My simple answer will be, ‘what about my right to protect my life?’ We can stand in the bull’s cage flying our red flag frantically delcaring our fundamental human right and the right to choose. Bulls do not have a single understanding of any of that, both us and our banner will be trampled upon.

Why do some people fall at one thing and others don’t ? Why do a person have a glass of wine, knowd when he or she is done, gets up, goes home forgets about it. Yet another person’s first taste of the forbidden is the first step to a life long addiction.

A man must know himself, know others around him and within reason act accordingly. A fool will die of his folly. A wise man will live by is wisdom. In all your gettings, get wisdom, live wise!

…. I don’t care, that is what I choose, I choose to live, not just live but to live super abundantly. I don’t leave it to chance, I am determined, purposeful, delibrate about it. Life is for living and it is a choice we make or not. More often than we realise, the option is constantly placed right before our eyeballs and we have to choose, life is like a conveyor belt, speedily passing before us and asking the same question all the time, from the moment we pop out, ‘life or death?’, ‘life or death?’, ‘life or death??’ , ‘life or death????’ We knowingly or unknowingly are forever answering the question, we are forever chooing to live or to die. The decisions we make from the moment we open our eyes in the morning boils down to that simple question, ‘life or death?’. The food we eat is based on our tilting ‘life or death?’, the people we hang around with, the friends we choice, it is about life or death. The thoughts we embrace in our heads, is based on what we have chosen, life or death? Whether we commit to our physical health, mental health, spiritual health, is based on our decision regarding life and death. The job we do, the business we embark on, the place we choose to live in, all affect whether we live or die. The load we choose to bear, the burdens we choose to carry, the grudges we stew on or not is all about whether we choice life or death. Each choice we make takes us nearer to life or death.Someone said but we all dying, that is one of the inevitable facts of life. Yes and this is very true, but the speed, the route we take, how quickly we get there is largely within the control of most of us. The maker said that today he has placed before us, life and death, blessings and cursings and he admonishes us to choose wisely, but we still have to put our hand in and do the picking. The opportunity for abundantly life has already been laid out for us, we have to decide whether we want it or not.Every single decision, leads to the next decision which in turn leads to the next and the next and the next and so it goes. Life is sinply a flow chart and as we work through the process we are closer to one destination or another. It is a cause and effect system, you can’t short circuit the process, if you continously make little micro ‘death’ decisions, you end up in the ‘death’ pile, you make micro ‘life’ decisions cumulatively you end up in the ‘life’ pile. And when we mix up the decisions we end up with discoloured laundry. If deliberately or unknowingly we put our whites with the coloured or dark laundry, we know the outcome, the washing machine is unsentimental and non discriminating. It churns everything together and you get what you get.We have to associate with what we want and be purposeful and deliberate in our associations. If we want life, but associate with death, death will bleed on us! It is as simple as that. It is not for no reason that the scriptures says let the the dead bury their dead. This is not saying we will not do the burial rites for our loved ones that pass on, no, not at all! But once the rites have been done, the honour performed, the mourning over, we must as a matter of choice, do the needful, live!!! Their time is gone, our time is here and now and one day, sooner than we expect, it will be our time, to say our goodbyes, until then we must give life a good shot.Just like the laundry example, we have the coloured and we have the darks, putting our whites with any of the 2 will colour it. In life we also have the dead and the dying, a delicate balance is required on how we handle the dying, with love, with care, with empathy and humility but the white must remain white. The life guard does not drown with the drowning man. His calling is to save life not die.Someone said but the master admonishes that he that will save his life will lose it, so if we are bent on living , wouldn’t we loose the plot? No, we wouldn’t for the act of living is the act of going against the odds. The act is stack up in favour of death.I encourage you, choose life!

… it take sensitivity, it takes awareness, it takes perception, it takes razor sharp alertness, consciousness, mindfulness to know when the tide changes. Around us every day, every minute, every second the tide is changing and we are not aware, we think it is business as usual, no it is not! The business has actually moved out of the locality!!!

Our parents where once strong, independent, dominant figures, caring for us, telling us what to do, how to do it. The power balance was stacked in their favour. They were the giver in so many ways and we the receiver. But at a time the tide changes, we become stronger, they become weaker, we become independent they become dependent, they need care we become the care giver, sometimes this change is so quick, so fast, it takes us by surprise and the only way to cope is by living in denial, by insisting on relating with the old parameters that no longer holds.

How many times have we seen this with lovers, the man that was once pursuing fervently and ferociously wakes up one morning and his heart is no longer piting pattering all over the place, his passion has disappeared, his behaviour changes, he is no longer available physically or emotionally, when he is there, he is not, the once object of his affection is confused and disoriented and insists on relating to him in the old era that no longer is. The tide has changed and she does not know or does not want to accept.

Sometimes the change is positive, our neighbour that was once a racist has now woken up from the error of her ways yet we dare not drop our guards, we don’t feel safe or at ease, yet there is no longer any risk of the noose going round our neck. Paul is now born again, we wouldn’t be murdered, yet we know not. We can’t see the change in the tide.

Our once clever and stable child is dropping the ball, yet we are busy boasting all over the place about having the best child in the class. Kanye is born again, Kim is tagging along yet we insist they are Devil worshipper. We are rich now, have the money to pay our ways, yet we persist in a beggarly manner holding tightly to our poverty mentality. We have been offered independence yet we hold on tightly to the apron string of our coloniser as if our very existence depends on their benevolence.

We have lost the plot, new younger kids are running the block, yet we hold tight to the no longer existent power. The tide has changed and we no longer know who we are. We were once young and in demand, now we are not as young or as in demand, yet we can’t accept ot take it. Our knight in shinning armour is no longer a hero, he sure does not have any suit any more, our children are now the ones in charge, the child is no longer fearful, timid and unable, he is the Commander, running the show.

‘Big tummy’ in school has lost the bulge, he is toned and taut with 8 packs, he is now Mr Universal, you don’t go around taunting him and calling him stupid school yard names, he is no longer that boy, the tide has changed.

Once the tide has changed, it really has changed, but why are we so unconscious, so unaware, so deadened, so insensitive, so blind, why? Why didn’t we see it, why didn’t we hear it, why didn’t we perceive? Because we are far from it, sometimes we ate near it, we actually in it, but yet we are far, very far, we are no where close, yet we are in it.

How do we become more conscious, more aware, more senstive? We must stop! Observe, listen, listen closely, live consciously, rouse ourselves from sleep, clear our minds. One of the biggest hindrance to perception is offense. Offense is one of the biggest blocker. It is a weight of it’s own that blinds the eye, blocks the ear. When we walk in offense we can’t see, we just can’t see. Peace must reign in the heart of the seer. You can’t be an angry person and have a clear picture of situation. Anger beyond a level distorts, and distorts badly.

That we may know when the tide changes, that we just know and act accordingly!

… he whistled and I heard, it was quite faint to start with but nevertheless I could still hear it, not so loud but enough for me to sense the invitation. I moved ever so slightly in his direction and the whistle was clearer, it was a call to play, to dance, to have an emotional Tango in a deep murky muddy pond. I am a woman, fully woman with all the emotions to prove it, an alert red blooded being with all sensitivity. Very much alive indeed, I told myself my dancing days were over but at his soft whistle my resistance was dropped to zero, as I slowly and effortlessly gravitated towards the sound of his voice. His voice was tender and soft, I melted, he was no longer the informidable but just a boy and me a girl, just the two of us existing in this sweet, emotional dance, I was totally lost in the moment. At the very instance without any warning, any explanation, any good byes, the whistle stopped, he jumped out of the pond, no fairwells, no helping hand and he was gone!

I was shocked, confused, discombobulated, here was I way deep in the emotional mire, none to help me out, I struggled and struggled in this deep slippery mess to get a grip and climb out. Slowly the pond started drying out and I found a few dryish slots to hook my feet as I gingerly climbed out. I am standing on dry ground now, what a mess I look! I am no longer sweet and slippery but all weird looking, dry mud caked all over my body, my hair stuck to my face and scalp buried in layers of mud. I sped to the shower, scrubbed myself clean from top to bottom, shampooed and conditioned my hair. I am squeakly clean. Pleased with my self I got dressed, put on my make-up, stepped out with a sense of respectability, feeling recovered and more myself.

I had only moved a few steps when I heard a faint sound, an undeniable distinguished sound, it couldn’t be? could it? But yes it was the whistle! I listened once and told myself, not today, not tomorrow, not even next week, not any time, never again! I hasten my steps and walked away, so did the whistle until it was no longer audible.

Beware of the Whistle!

… man is the most dichotomy being, existing on two extreme plane. Man is capable of mouth gasping sacrificial good, yet his potential for evil is boundless. Man is incredibly fragile and vulnerable that a tiny wrong move, mishandling and he ceases to existing, the same man has the spiritual potential to move mountains, the psychological, mental, intellectual ability to subdue nations, to explore other planets. He can be and yet just not be. He can be extraordinary and yet be inconsequential. Man has his breath in his nostrils and like the grass of the field he perishes, His maker can choose to take his breath any time and he ceases to exist yet man is a god!

When our eyes are opened to the frailties and fragility of man we shudder, we can not but wonder how we manage to exist for a single day, a day’s existence being a stretch of the fact, how did we manage to exist in the first place at all might be the real issue. Man is too fragile for existence! This awareness in and of itself is totally humbling. Arrogance, pride, self assurance, aloofness and all likes dissolves in the light of this understanding. Some might argue that better not to get this insight as that brings about a deep cry, ‘woe am I! I am nobody!!!’ The psalmist got a glimpse and he wrote “… who is man that thou art mindful of him and the son of man that thou visitest him …” in order words, ‘why bother with this one?’ Man is designed frail, very frail indeed, he is created to corruption and decay. Yet he is created strong! Strong how? You ask.

Man’s strength comes from his connection in the same way that an equipment connected to power supply can do wonder, my Bullet smoothie maker when connected will blend to pulp in a matter of seconds, otherwise it is as useless as it comes. The mower will mow the garden to astonishing beauty because it has power, the power drill will vibrate the whole building because it is connected to power. All of these tools and more are only as good as their power source. No power, no use. The same applies to man, no power no use, no connection no impact, no power, no nothing! Just no use.

The deeper, the stronger our connectivity, the stronger we are, the sharper we are, the higher we vibrate, the more exploits we do. ‘They that know their God shall be strong and do exploits’. In other words they that know, have located their power source and connect to it will be dynamic. It is impossible to be mediocre when fully connected and switched on. Some machinery do not need to be pushed, pulled, kicked or operated, all they ask, is to be connected and switched on, without any other intervention they start vibrating vigorously. Human beings are likewise. We vibrate to the level of the power that is at work within us.

At the end of the day, man is too frail to be of any use, we are but just clay vessel, mere earthen vessel, our excellence is in the power that works through us. The scripture tells us that we have this treasure in earthen vessel that the excellency of the power may be of God and not of us.

Our strength is dependent on our connection and ignition. After connectivity, are we switched on or not?

The million dollar question, is how do we get and stay connected? How do we turn on the ignition? Where is our power source? The maker must connect us and switch us on. In and of our selves we are limited. The best we can do is live with the awareness and understanding that we can do nothing of our selves. In ourselves we are too frail for existence. Our survival and ability to do exploit is dependent on the infusion of power from above. It is of His mercy that we are not consumed.

We live for Him and By Him.

…. every single flower wants to be plucked, admired, sniffed, carried around, displayed and boasted about to friends, family and anyone that cares or cares not to listen. The flower glows in this kind of attention, it radiates and its beauty is enhanced and accentuated. The flower lives for attention and admiration. Show me a flower that does not want this and you have a liar on your hand. It is in the flower’s DNA! All the days and years of the flower, it craves, longs and desire attention and admiration even on it’s death bed, when it’s all old and wrinkly. Which is why you see the flower struggling to hold it together and wanting to strike a pose. Some flower do curl up and give up before the time when the lack of attention becomes unbearable.

The flower wants and needs to be watered, nourished, nurtured and fed and then it gives and gives and gives. I remember for my 50th birthday, my family gave me a bouquet of red roses, now that was some red roses! It just wouldn’t go, just a bit of watering, some flower food at the beginning, a bit of triming here and there and it was just going strong from day to day into weeks.

Now I have to put my hands up and admit I am not always good with flowers, some don’t do as well in my care. Sometimes I don’t know what to do, I don’t water enough, I over water, other times I put them on the wrong place, wrong vase, don’t trim right or whatever and they shrivel up and die. I just gather them and drop them in the bin. This is the nature of the flower plucker. We see the flower, love it, admire it’s beauty, pluck, sniff it, dance around with, stick in our button hole, flower is happy, we are happy, looks like it is going to be an everlasting relationship, ‘five minutes’ later we no longer feel like having a flower stuck on us, we grab it without any care and chuck it in the bin, the relationship is over even before it started! Other times we buy a bouquet, get the most beautiful vase, flowers in, placed it in the room, and we forget all about it, total neglect in a darkened room. Our flower plucker is distracted, overwhelmed with life. Two weeks later he enters the room, the beloved flower is all gone. A sad ending indeed.

Some flowers decide they can’t endure this pain of neglect and short lived temporary affection and they grow thorns, big spikey dangerous thorn and resolve that no one will ever pluck them again and rightfully so, they are never plucked, they live and die a life of never knowing the joy of belonging, however short lived and temporary it might be.

Other flowers accept the nature of the game, enjoy the 5 minutes of fame, of attention, they get there ‘lights! camera! action!’ and its all over. At least they enjoyed the whirlwind of attention and admiration before it all died down.

The nature of the plucker is selfish and self-centred, the feelings of the flower is not considered, does not even come into the equation. It is all for the temporary, unsustainable, fast changing, inconsistent delight of the plucker. The plucker is childlike, indecisive, easily swayer, distracted, neglecting with peaks and troughs of emotions.

The jury is still out on which is the best way to swing? Grow thorn or not grow thorn, 5 minutes of fame or no fame, be admired temporarily or drive pluckers away.

What is the flower to do?

… some come easy, some come light, some come meek and mild, my friend is none of that, my friend comes full, packed to the brim, overflowing, intense and conc (as in concentrated) is my friend. I guess he is overwhelmed by his own giftings, on a mission to fulful purpose but easily misunderstood.

My friend is a joy to be around, a man of peace, still not suffering fools gladly. A magnetic man that attracts and overshadow all in his path. A godly man that allows the fear of God to be his guiding light.

He lives for the people, for his people, he exists for the upliftment of others. Frustrated by limits and limitation. A man that feels he had arrived before his time, yet his time is now.

An impatient man, existing and operating on mutiple terrain concurrently. My friend longs for company where only genuis operates but the crowd are few and sparse at that realm.

A man that has known trial and tribulations, but still sprung forth and fought his way through barren and dry land. My friend is a survival, throw him in the air, he will fly, drop him in the sea, he will swim, put him on the ground and he will run, yes run he will!

My friend spreads himself thin, yet he does not snap, my friend litters himself all over the place that all might have a piece, I pray life continue to replenish, refills and restore back to him as he emptys himself out. But can he really empty himself out? No he can’t, he is the gift that keeps giving!

But my friend must rest, he is still human, he must make time to be still, to be calm, to be nourished and nurtured. May you find the right lap to rest your kind head.

Hudu, my friend!

… we are to be loving, giving, selfless, seeking the good of and for others. To do this we need to be alive, first and foremost we need to survive, to be of relevance or any good to any body. We need to even more than survive to be of significant good, we need to be healthy and whole, we need to be fruitful – full of fruit to bear and give out. To be fruitful, we need to be fertile, nourished and nurtured. To feed we need to have first been fed. If there is nothing in our hands, we have nothing to give. If we have not been rained upon we can not water anyone.

How many times have we tried to give when we are as empty as yesterday’s pizza box? It’s all gone, all the pizza have been eaten and we are still inviting people over for lunch. No, my friends, it is time to replenish, not time to give, there is nothing worthwhile to give but miserly. Self care is called for, self nourishment, self soothing ( if that is what is required). It makes no difference the urgency or intensity of the need, we have nothing to give. How many people have died before their time, because they neglect to care for themselves and choose instead to miserably be there for one or two? Well meaning but end up doing a poor job and killing themselves in the process. Would it not make more sense to take time to care for self and then put oneself in a position to help a lot more, hundreds and thousands more?

Some might argue that ‘one might die’, if we don’t reach out now, but with our ‘feeble’ hand, the one will still die and so would we. A very difficult truth to grasp, is that we might have to watch the one die, strengthen ourselves and be in a position to help thousands to live. Whichever way we choose to play this, some will be lost and we have to decide whether it will be the few or the many, a difficult choice indeed! Even the maker, in His wisdom allows some to be lost.

Our paramount responsibility is survival, survive to be of use. To do this, we atimes have to be selfish, brutally selfish, cold heartedly selfish, detached and dispassionate , howbeit just for while, for a moment to regroup, to rejuvenate, to be replenished. My local filling station is always close when it is time to refill, once tankers arrive, the barriers are up, it makes no difference whatsoever how many motorists are queued up for fuel, how desperate their needs, be it a small car, big truck or even an ambulance they all have to wait whilst refilling is going on. And it takes as long as it takes till the pumps are ready.

We are only as strong as we are strong, there is no point in staying in the ring, flexing non existent biceps, playing super hero and allowing people to cheer us on to our dome and destruction. Inviting or encouraging people to draw from us when we are overdrawn and on the blink of bankruptcy is irrational. There is a time to encourage and a time to discourage. There is a time to say ‘No!’ Learn to say it with grace but don’t blink an eyelid. We know our limits, others don’t, the needy will always ask, but like the master, we must know when we can do nothing, our time is yet to come.

Other people’s need must not break us, that makes no sense, we must stubbornly resist that temptation to cave in under the load of another, our relevance is in our ability to stand straight and tall, of what use is a stooped cane? The walking stick must be straight, sturdy, able and robust to take the weight of its user. Otherwise both cane and user will end up in the ditch.

Aggressively commit to your survival! Remove that ugly scene from your screen, protect the mind. Replace the wallscreen, play the happy music, attend the fun party, brick by brick, build yourself up, pour, step back, refill, pour, step back, refill, happily live this life.

Until we are aready, we are not ready and until we are ready we commit to selfishly survival. It is the survival of the fittest, let’s make ourselves fit.

Life is for living!

… I was born in a pool and in the pool I lived all my live. I knew the pool life, understood it and accepted the pool, my fellow pool people were all with me, we all doing the pool thing, whatever that is. We only every played in the shallow end of the pool, for fear of what? I know not. That was just the way it was .

Today I unknowingly veered to the very edge of the pool, the deep end and found that the pool was right in the midst of the ocean! The pool was man-made with a temporary flimsy barricade, man-made to control man! I looked in front of me, there was endless expanse of water, I looked behind, to my right, to my my left, all around, was unfathomable wealth, knowledge, depth, insight and treasure. I sighed!!! Really sighed, but why? Why will man seek to restrict, control and limit his fellow being? Why go to all these length to hide the truth? Why hinder when there is more than enough? What is it in the heart of man that causes this fear. Why do men want to control other men?

… nothing prepared me for the pain I felt, the sense of emptiness and disconnect, of floating aimlessly and without purpose. It felt like every building block of my life was gone, every stepping stone had been remove and I was falling into a non ending bottomless pit. I felt like every cell in my body had been remove, I was nobody, what gave me a sense of who I was had been remove and disposed of. I reached out to touch and there was nothing, just nothing, emptiness at it’s uttermost, my heart sank, how I longed to build it all back, to string it all together, to put them all where they belong, but there was none to be found. The house has been emptied and locked, it is now a ghost house! Ah! That is harsh! crushing in every manner imaginable.

Mummy is gone, Anti Bisi is gone, Anti Yemisi is gone, Anti Foluke is gone, Daddy is gone, Sunday is no where to be found, those that brought me into the world are gone, those above me are gone. Who am I? Where do I belong? I am now an Orphan and I feel every bit like one. Confuse and deflated, I felt like I was just a carcass as all that fed me and fed into me was no more.

My past! My past! My past!!!! I cried and shouted ‘the house is empty!’ Where do I go to review and connect? “You need go no where, for right here with you I am”. Replied my past. The past is intact, non of it is lost, not a single one, every building block is exactly where they were, every cell is still doing what it should do, every supply is still where it was. The past is untouched, the memory is the screen, the door to see all that needs to be seen, to stay connected. It is all there, none of it is lost, the stepping stones are all there. Yes there is no physical place to go to and call home, but true home is in the heart. It’s all here.

Treasure the memories and create new ones. Life is for living!