Saturday, August 29, 2009

The missing muse

emptiness arises
in your absence
speak to me.......

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Today a cold front blew in...

Today a cold front moved in with absolute presence and the fire and I became intimately acquainted.
Having stood on my reading glasses, less and less time gets spent reading.
More and more time just being with what is right there.
Found a huge bucket of fennel seeds. The plants thrive here.
The wood was wet and was not taking so I scattered some of these seeds on the logs.
It took a while, but they sort of exploded into life and fire and burnt for a surprisingly long time. And the sound effects were rather profound.

Looking out the lounge window, the almond and peach trees have slowly unfurled parts of themselves to become blossoms.
It must have been whilst I was sleeping.
The jasmine has reached out with such fierce abandon that she releases her aroma down every street, and across every field.
It's an eternal aromatic feast.
The amygdalas flip forwards in sheer ecstasy.

The swallows never left this year, as last year they might have sensed the huge transatlantic storms. It has been a mild winter and the mosquitoes have not died out this year as they have in the past. Likewise flies and ticks. They are still around, albeit less.
So I guess that signals that there was no need for these birds to migrate because there was sufficient food here. It had nothing to do with storms.
Just another story.

About 8 weeks ago , Siyabonga (Xhosa for thank you) appeared at our doorstep.
And neither India nor Sunny objected.
He had been in a squatter camp some distance away but wanted to return to McGreor.
But he did not like the process of working as a gardener in different gardens each day of the week. Never actually becoming the space.
No, he wanted to be in this garden daily and could we let it happen.
Since he has been here, we have cleared, chopped, burnt, sawed, pulled, fed, watered, planted, sprouted, fed some more, and watched with delight as the energies returned. I swear this being is a creator.
And life sent him this way.

The hok (chicken run)was completely rejuvenated.
Became rabbit proofed as well.
The hens started laying in particular places at regular times.
We were actually getting eggs for the first time.
The nettle was pulled up and used to make supercharge feeder with a cow pat thrown in for a few days soaking.
Indeed it looked as if someone had come in with a wand.
We planted sweetmelon, leeks, radish, basil, watermelon, butternut, tomatoes, peppers, cabbage, shard, spinach, brocolli, grandilla, strawberries and of course the flowers to enhance Krishna's smile - calendulas. Oh yes and trying pineapples. Although it will take two years till the first fruit - it does not appear I will be going anywhere.
And after all this work - of course there is the resting.

Today the kids decided that they wanted to try grafting. A spelling test had been lined up (just so that I could feel responsible and all that). But they know if they can originate an idea that will get them moving and creating, I will always forfeit lessons.
A young pecan sapling presented itself. They informed me that unless it was grafted it would take 15 or so years to bear nuts. Yet if we grafted it from one of the mature pecan trees, it would bear nuts very soon. So they studied "Self Sufficiency" by John Seymour and discovered the techniques. They know where all the good fruit is in the village so they returned with pure potential and happily set about the splicing and joining.

We now have four guinea pigs again. I was preparing food one night and it pained me to put the parings into the compost. Whenever a meal happened we would always set the scraps aside for the eekers. There was a complete absence without them.
They are for socialistation reason kept in the new refurbished hoks, except of course when they come into the fireplace for an evening visit.

So somehow there is this harmony and clarity in this space. And the beauty is that I can't take any credit. It just happened.
For those who know the story, hear it afresh....
Now many years ago there was an elderly dame who lived in this ramshackle, rustic house. And this woman planted this garden. The fruit and nut trees. She had many chickens and geese. .
Often when people walk around here they speak of the presence of elementals.
It passes me by.
Cynthia had a stick pile which used to serve as refuge to snakes.
recall snake dreams).
Many people in this village will opt to chop a serpents head off if they see one.
Deal with fear by killing.
They always say it is to keep the children safe.
And yet the snakes keep the children safe.
One day Iona and Tao went to get firewood from an adjoining plot. She got arms length away from a puff adder and Tao very calmly told her to come towards him as silently and smoothly as possible.
And she did.
And of course the snake did not strike, she knew they would not harm her.
But alas they are fair game here. So here was a stick pile and cobras and others would harbour there.
Many years later our guineas would inhabit and make tunnels in these piles.
Anyway, I am rambling.

So Cynthia dies in her 90's. Her ashes get spread in this garden.
And by the time they get scattered it has become a loved, productive space again.
And the birds sense it because at lunchtime, I lie on the fucked up, falling to pieces couch outside and watch the light filtering through the various greens.
And when I close my eyes, the birds come to attention. And each day there are new sounds and calls, and concerts.
And yet today they had a visiting tenor, and several sopranos from fields afar.
I am so totally entertained by this space that desire has become less and less scratchy and demanding. It hardly arises at all.

There was a lunar eclipse yesterday morning. Earths shadow on the moon.
And on Sunday there was this massive sun dog around the sun.
We were on the volleyball court and it was really like being in the presence of something so significant and profound as to make the experience mystical.
And then we played and laughed under its luminous intensity.

It was just before lunchtime. Earlier on we had dug up all the weeds and devil thorns off the courts, and tidied up the lines. Things got a bit tense over line calls if the game was tight. So there are 12 of us on the court under the atmospheric dog when a black eagle starts circling around us. Right in the village. Enormous. Going round and round.
His shadow falling on us.

And today suddenly the blue sky turned white and ice arrived.
Outside my window it looks cold and bleak.
And yet I know that out there in the darkness the jasmine and sweet peas are in flower.
Everything is waiting to burst back into life.
The energy withdrawing from the roots and moving upwards and outwards.

And despite the times being trying, and the systems collapsing, there is a stillness in our midst.
It is in that space that our beauty and perfection is reflected.

And on a totally silly note:
Piglet and Tigger meet up in 3 acre wood. And Tigger being his usual boisterous, bombastic self leaps up and down and tells Piglet that he is so fierce that all he has to do is roar and creatures run and Piglet tells Tigger "hey, that is nothing. I just have to sneeze and the whole planet shits itself".

And still we dance..........
And still he reappears off different memory cards.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

This particlular expression

Last night in the sleeping dream I was walking along a tree lined road.
Magnificent old oaks in full summer splendor.
As I was about to pass a tree and a low branch I became aware of a cobra
on one of the branches.
The situation was as such - if I moved either forward or backwards I was going to
be in striking range of this creature.
So I stood perfectly still.
This elderly African priest (from my childhood) drew alongside me.
I did not warn him about the snake.
He greeted me with all the love in his heart and walked forwards only
to be struck by the Cobra.
I awoke horrified at my actions.
I went to sleep and in the course of the night I dreamt the exact same dream and
awoke with the same feeling of disbelief.

And this is the view to which I awaken to the waking dream.


The power which has been off for a day due to being in arrears on the rates and taxes is resolved after signing a pledge to make up the lack in my blood.
But it is rather anemic today so hopefully the signature will fade into nothing.
Like a chicken who suddenly has food I rush around the web consuming thoughts, ideas, despair and of course love. Each has a part. I am drawn to an article about the most spoilt girl in the UK at the age of 12. Won't even go into but should you want to purge your last few meals google it.
And then downloading photos I found this picture of Iona's 8th birthday.
As it was in the holidays only 3 of her friends were around.
She had a cut on her foot (rusty metal - no tetanus) and so the party food
had to be relatively body friendly.
But these kids have such a blast - savoring the juice, the crisps, the carrot cake and then there was no games laid on or entertainment, they simply took themselves off to the dam and explored - just like every other day.
But today more special because it was Iona's day.
It made me realise again how totally unspoilt they all are.
I sometimes wish I could be more generous with 'stuff' but on this particular day I welcomed the lifestyle and its simple pleasures and lack of consumerism.

And with this gratitude for the lifestyle, I took the dogs up through the nature reserve. As soon as we step out the door, I am witness to their total ecstasy as they leap upon each other, talking, playing, pure energy and joy.
We walk upwards towards the dam. Although it is still winter here, the sap is rising and buds are forming. But as this is fynbos land, the natural growth is having an early spring. The colours contrast - never clashing, always complimenting each other.
By the time I am halfway to the top, my heart is pounding and my face is flushed.
Total aliveness is present.
I look around to see if Nina is roaming out there as well today.
And this is the village I call home. Probably the equivalent of 12 city blocks.
No movies, no ATM's, no bowling alleys - nothing, nada - and yet see its beauty, feel its stillness.

And just before we got to the top of the dam I hear someone calling me.
Being a grumpy anti social bitch most of the time I did my best to ignore it.
Just not in the mood for chit chat.
And yet this voice was persistent and caught up to me.
As I saw who it was my gut lurched.
Oh fuck no not you was the inner dialogue.
And another thought was saying come on Su it is not going to kill you to
be open and warm.
And at that moment it could have gone either way and by grace, openess won.
Not because of me being a nice person but simply because warmness arose.
We walked and spoke for a while and as the path was narrow at that point I was ahead.
And then we came to a huge boulder that needed to be scrambled over and I was very aware of a hole in my pants so I let him go ahead.
As he got to the top of the boulder he said Oh shit.
I climbed up and there was a cobra - who had just spat at him before I arrived.
And yet he was wearing thick glasses and the fluid ran down the lenses.
The snakes should still be hibernating.
We became very bonded in that moment, in the presence of such power.

Coming home to a bowl of steaming polenta and honey, I looked at the downloaded pictures and guess who came back to life.
George. In a slightly slow northern england dialect, he appeared and with him all the laughter that he ever evoked in me came bursting forth.
How could he ever be gone.

Sage and his imaginary pet falcon.
He feels if he talks falcon to it - why would it remain a chicken.

Ramana Maharshi receives a visit.
Snakes, snakes, snakes.

So apologies for this not being a political, social commentary but hey when I think of what Life had to do for this particular expression to have these particular experiencings, I figured I would like to honour that.

To Life in all its wisdom.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Lest we forget

In an open tomb with a telephone
we wait for god or fire............