Saturday, February 21, 2009
Taking leave of my Goddess
6 weeks ago to the day a series of events occurred that created a radical change of lifestyle.
The first one was in the sleeping dream. I was taking care of a child’s much loved corn snakes. They were on a table in front of me and the male, orange, brown and black suddenly pounced on his life partner, pink and white, and started swallowing her. I was too shocked to move immediately, they were after all life partners. By the time action happened all that was left was her tail sticking out of his mouth. I tried to pull her out to no avail. The child entered the room and gently pulled and sure enough she came out unharmed. He then flashed me a grin and left and sure enough the same thing repeated itself.
Then in the waking dream I went walking in the gorge. Came upon a pit, and in the pit were many baboon skeletons and skulls. Some large, some small but it was a mass grave. I went to Cape Nature but they told me farmers set traps as these creatures are incredibly destructive. Its not that they eat what they need they literally rampage and can destroy an entire orchard and vineyard. So the men who toil the soil kill them – what else can they do. I guess the baboons being here first has no bearing here, or give them no rights; after all they do not own the pieces of paper making them owners of the land. They have just become a nuisance.
Then there was a domestic dispute involving a man a woman and a broken bottle. Managed to break it up thanks to both parties severe inebriation and an inability for the man to lunge to far forwards without falling flat on his face.
I saw clouds of poison every day being sprayed on the grapes to keep them free of mould. I saw the drivers of the tractors spraying, with no masks, just breathing it all as are we all. It is thick in the air.
I saw pictures of children killed and injured in Gaza and pictures of grieving parents. And even in this village far from Zimbabwe, I see the Zimbabweans creeping in, starvation outweighing the fear of xenophobic attacks. And further afield people have become slaves without even knowing it.
The sleeping dream pretty much covers the current sense of being. Eaten alive, being sucked in and yet at the same time the possibility for regeneration is always present. And regeneration is seen to be needed direly.
This mind has slipped into some quick sand and thoughts were tending to obsessive, with a more then necessary dose of fear thrown in to the mixture. Life had lost its sweetness and I was projecting my stuff onto others with false sagacity intertwined with vehemence. (Thanks psychegram).
This was not a pretty picture. Catching a glimpse of myself in a window sent a shock wave down my spine. The smile that is normally the first thing you will see of me had changed direction and was edging its way to the floor. And the furrows between my brow had changed from lines of intensity to lines of insanity.
So lighting up a joint my 20 year old happens upon me and we sit down to talk.
He asks how long I have smoked – “oh give or take 462 full moons” I reply. Take away pregnancy and breastfeeding.
How often he asks –“ well one in the morning and one in the afternoon”.
At that point the doorbell rings and I immediately dive into the bushes to avoid social interaction. Why would I want to talk to anyone is my immediate response.
He raises his eyebrows and in the gentlest way challenges me to stop my life of devotion to the goddess ganja.
I had not even thought about it. Never beat myself up about it, it was just who I was, but in the few minutes following his challenge, neurons fired up and a decision was made (way out of my control) that it was time and that was it.
For 6 weeks and a few hours the goddess and I have walked separate paths.
Unbelievable bursts of anger have appeared that I did not even know were harbored in this body mind. Lethargy reigns supreme and it is just a question of getting through the day. Still diving away from any social interaction, still looking for that sweetness which used to present itself with each inhalation.
Then an internal messenger informed me that perhaps if I lowered the toxicity levels of this body, joy would be forthcoming. So on day 4 of a grape fast (from an organic farm), I sit and write this, knowing that you beings out there in this particular sphere are a great gift and a smile of gratitude appears on these lips.
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