Thursday, December 23, 2010

introducing nina to nina


Nina this is written with you pictured in mind and soul.

The clouds have somehow outwitted the wind - and its relentless removal of the potentiality of itself.  They are thick, billowing over the all-encompassing mountains and adding some dimension to what has been a flat blue sky, endless day landscape.  Suddenly there is less visibility, everything takes on a mysterious tone, rolling, flowing, and dissolving.

In the car with me is the entire family.   Very rare for us to journey out so far and exceptionally rare for us to all be together.    We usually  take it in turns, pairing up differently for different excursions.  Like a mainly hardware trip would be for Sage and Tao and a fruit shop would be for Pieter and Iona would always do libraries and markets.  But today we are all together in this car.  Gliding smoothly through the well-known landscape.  And yet still absolutely bowled over with the beauty that is everywhere. It never diminishes.

My eldest child, the daughter who got off the hamster wheel and found herself being violently flung off the hamster wheel and  living a sustainable life on a farm wrote the other day on a page -  I am so happy and so grateful.  How profound is that.  It touched me so deeply, deeper than any accolade or award offered to her could have done.  Within herself, living in utter simplicity, she now tastes life in its fullness.  Away from the carrot she follows her own wishes, which is basically for a lifestyle that encompasses children, requires simplicity and takes nothing too seriously.  Oh yes and the ability to roll with the punches in fluid motions – except when you don’t of course.
Pia was one of those visitors that sat with me on the journey yesterday.  Then you, Nina appeared.  Looking at the parched landscape, I felt you under water, wet, sore, tired.  Breathing you in, sending you love and warmth.  So we were together some of the journey.
And just as we were about to go to the outskirts of the town I find myself asking my partner, Pieter, the driver to stop at the pet store.  He sort of goes oh ho.  But not once has he ever denied me custody of any creature.  I really take my hat off to him for that.  He says what with a fat smile on his face.
And I mention the stop will facilitate the liberation of  guinea pigs.  You buy them for R10 which is about 2 dollars. Mostly they are taken to empty children’s bedrooms where they live out their lives in small cages.  Upon hearing the word liberation he steers us to the shop.  You just got to know how to dress it up.  Such is covert rescue work J



On the way to the store, down the oak lined lanes with Victorian homes, my heart becomes noticeable,  it is moving differently somehow,  or I am just more aware of it.  My anticipation grows – it feels so absolutely right.  There had been no prior thought about this.  A spontaneous arising - and then we arrived.  And once inside this shop – we know exactly where  to go , which cage on the cement floor is most likely to start the founding members of a new tribe.  We open the lid – and voila - by the most amazing subatomic physics, in front of us are these beings………..
We do what we need to do, with Sage holding the Jamaican and Iona holding the Nord.
Decide to add to the journey by taking a road unknown,   A gravel road which would entail dropping our speed to a crawl due to gravel and loose surfaces.  And yet because the sun is absent and we are not baking, we agree.  A change is as good as a holiday.   Cian suddenly asks us to stop.  On the side of the road are clusters of lucerne.  He stops and picks some.  The freshness of the plucking permeates the car.    I wish I could relay to you the perfection of light on this day.  The way it magnified the might of the mountains, the way it perfectly framed a blade of grass against a pole. The way it sung the landscape into a passion play.
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.  Iona and Sage have fallen asleep in the back.  The Jamaican and the Nord are in their box with the lucerne.  Krishna Das is playing over the speakers.  Something I have loved dearly  but unfortunately listened to death.  Tao, Cian and I playfully told Pieter we would have to kill him if he did not change the music.  God, how did that make us laugh?  How can we be such cheap dates?  How can so little be so entertaining.   I start talking to Pieter about what else I have discovered about ayahausca.  Ask him if he would read the piece on it that Ravi posted.  He agrees.  Cian and Tao tune in.  Cian says wow – for your 50th birthday you take acid and for your 51st you take ayahausca.   I say yes funny how it all arises.  We talk about the plant and its origins, what they understand and what they want to know. There is an openness that I never ever stop valuing and savouring.

It is known from the moment I saw her that the nord would be called Nina.  The kids looked at me as if to say – not very unusual.  And then I tell them about you.  And they remember our link and are in complete agreement.  The black guy well at first glance Russian sprang to mind – but slowly a Jamaican revealed himself.  But by them the meme for a soviet name had already sprung – so the patriarch of the possible tribe is Vladimir Eli.

Today the sun broke ever so slightly through the clouds, the wind was absent and I find myself sitting on the couch with Nina and Vlad.  They are resting on my belly.  And you know that is the beauty of winny gigs is their ability to just be still.  They don’t have the usual rodent tendency to shy away or move suddenly.  How you put them is how they stay. 
So I place them close together, and gently stroke them.  They have not been held.  They are wild but not wild like in able to survive on their own, just wild as in unloved by humans.
The sun shines on them ever so gently.  I feel what it must be like for them.  God knows if they have ever felt this before.  The birds call.  The wit oojie is in the budhlia right above me,  some distance away a pigeons croons,  in between the fiscal shrike calls ‘kwerty, kwerty, kwerty.  I don’t know when last they heard this particular music.  They calm down.  I stroke Nina along the back, she chubbles in delight on each downstroke.  Slowly they are unfolding to something known in their genes.   A way of being.  They are absorbing these subtle nuances.  I introduce them to plants just picked.  They are unsure; they have only eaten dried pellets their whole lives.  So in 24 hours they have tasted sunshine, a lap, a gentle caress, basil, thyme, freshly picked coz lettuce.   Just after the solstice, this new tribe begins.
The year has gone by rapidly but the days have all been long.  Rich, varied, with me of course always choosing the path of least effort.   A yoga teacher who has just recovered from a bypass and I sat together this afternoon in the dappled light.  He asked what I was enjoying reading at the moment and I mentioned how reading seemed to have fallen away.  More and more time was spent in solitude.  Sitting in a chair with light shining in gently, birds outside calling, breathing happening and very little else.  An embrace with silence.
He told me how lucky I was for this to happen.  I said it came with a price.  It came with being labelled and self-labelling as lazy, inept and not very ambitious.   It is just the love of idling that enables these labels to be taken on without much ado.  No way am I going to become an active do-er – just so far away from this nature and programming.



Images that come of this past year all show a lot of attention being placed on children and creatures.  Diligence, watchfulness and yet also allowing freedom despite the price  come into the equation.  In every article one reads one reads about the dastardly rats.  The venomous vipers, the corpulent rabbits.   And they attach this language to particular acts of humanity that are so not part of the rodential reality.  Rodents don’t do to each other what people do.   Snakes have an inherent wisdom and potential for transformation – not the blind danger that we ascribe to them.  So here, in this little corner of the world, the year has been spent being hugely entertained, embraced and loved by this kingdom of rodents and honouring their beauty.

 (the rats water bowl with a sprinkling of fresh herbs).












(meet nina - vlad is still too shy to take an image of)

And beloved Nina it occurred to me today, when sitting down to write this blog that a huge acknowledgment goes to you for this expression which gives me such delight and pleasure.
From my very first heart stopping posting on smoking mirrors, to gradually expressing myself on line – with you holding out a hand, a reassurance, a seeing.  Thank you beloved for that – and thank you to all others who experience this…..






Peace………and goodwill to all………………

 let the playfulness amidst the simplicity continue...

Thursday, December 9, 2010

ayahausca calling



I saw a headline earlier on – Israel fears growing Palestine support.
Perused the article briefly because truth be told I would have thought this would be an obvious.  Not a reason to write an article. 
With the past months worth of news, which we all have shared over the same perspective, the one thing that sits with me right now – out of all the news stories is the fire on Mount Carmel.  There was an image of a huge 747 kind of number dropping water.
Having seen last year how quickly the dams emptied when the firefighting helicopters were water bombing.  I can imagine the size of this one plane’s water load.  And I wondered how many gazallion gallons were dropped.  And where was the water picked up and sourced from.  Canada and Russia were a huge support in lending resources and assistance.  Canada is no surprise – Russia was – silly me once again thinking there is any difference of the psyche of governments.  Apart from South America that is.  Maybe.  Probably not though.  I also wandered how many people that had been so very helpful to israel in her crisis had responded at all to the man induced cholera facing Haiti. 
Well I did not wander that – we all know no-one cares about the Gazans.  No one cares about the Haitians.  No one cares about the torture, the maiming, the fucking imprisonment and torture of Aafia Siddiqui  scientist for two years or the countless other innocents tortured in the name of the war against terror.

Oh and I had thought only one story remained with me.  They all come flooding in simultaneously.  Each lasting a nano second but with each second I can feel this body’s cells dying.
An image of a small child having a body search.  A young boy.  His shirt is off and his father is holding him in place whilst he is searched.
I saw his young body and immediately all my kids came to me.  And I am a lioness when it comes to these children.  If that had been one of them being checked like that – they would probably have had to shoot me then and there. 
Maybe I am just less numb but don’t these people know about the child care abuses.  Don’t they know how prevalent sex attacks against children are?  Have none of them that allow this ever read Aangirfan and his amazing dot to dotting of the plague. Do none of them, those being searched and those doing the searching that they have moved in the exact opposite direction of an evolving mankind. And with this huge question in mind and a rage that there are just so many fucking stupid people on this planet I head into town.
We have been sowing our own seeds at places, needing beautification and purification.   We will wait a while to drive past and see the seeds popping up.  But hey wait a minute – as soon as any of those places see sprouting life – they will pull out the 20 liter container of roundup and prevent any life from attempting the same foolishness for the next 20 years.  But we tried – and it was fun. A lot of fun – a 2 day game.

This morning Tao and I head in again for a mission and a half.  At 9 in the morning it is already 36 celsius.  The exhaust rattles itself into a trance.  Slowly passing the vineyards, and more vineyards and gosh almost swoon someone has planted fruit trees.  Shock horror, this is news.

Crossing over the bridge where the massacre of the bluegums was held a short while ago I see something that brings tears to my eyes.
Tears of gratitude.  They have replaced those trees that they killed.
And planted three times as many trees, indigenous to the region.
They used the remnants of the blue gums for tables and stools for the community to sit by the river.
Shock horror and pure delight this too is news.
Completely new to me.

I head into the post office first – the same building and people that have been handling the business parcels for the past 12 years.  As a gypsy that is pretty dam amazing to have lived in this funny little place for so long.   We chat whilst weighing, computing, processing this order goes, all the while chatting, laughing.  A woman enters with three beautiful bunches of wild roses for the counters.  Colours ablaze.  More laughter, appreciation.

Then to the library.  Where again I have been their largest non paying customer for the same length of time.  With all the kids we have a total of 26 cards.  So whenever we go there it takes a long time.
It takes an even longer time to find all the books in this rambling house before one goes. We always fail to find at least 4.  Sometimes the books are kept for many more moons than they should be and yet not once have I been fined.
The relationship was not always so easy.  In fact in the early days the two head honcho librarians grumpy and tight lip (kids names for them) literally drove this poor submissive creature, a lower librarian to kill herself during a lunch hour.  I had been witnessing their interaction for a few months and thus her death came as no surprise.
But their rudeness eventually wore me down.  And one day when gathering up the freshly stamped books (not computerized yet) – I asked them if they did not feel it would not be appropriate for them to have a suggestion box.  They asked with their standard snarl why they should do this.  What did I want to suggest.  And I said well I would suggest you both get different jobs as neither of you seem to like this one very much.
And from that moment the whole game changed.  Now there are more staff, more colour, more vibrancy,  not many more books and not one dam new one – and yet being in that space I feel a sense of belonging.  There is absolutely no tension anywhere in my being.

Tao has been housesitting a house higher up in the village.  Strange kid that he is he has fixed things that were broken before this tenure and put together some plants together for inside, the verandah and the garden.  One of the things he wants to fix for the owner is a light switch.  We had to attend to three small hardwares and one light centre to find it.  Found it in this ancient trading store on the outskirts of the town. Did 12 stops all in all.   And with each stop the temperature went up a degree.  And with the dangling exhaust still dangling we head home again, past the recreational river, the vineyards, the vineyards and the newly planted peach trees.

With the move to schooling the one unschooled - ah can you catch the whiff of irony.  So Cian was very into the idea.  To such an extent that he stopped ganga immediately. 
And a need to digress arises. Some really ambitious pharmacists want to come into our business.  Without producing capital just the promise of research and marketing.  I say no way.  I am quite happy being an idler and occasionally attending to the business, I don’t want anyone having rights to it or my time and energy.  Pieter has 60 percent and I have 40.  It is his intellectual and intuitive wisdom behind the product range.  I refuse.  They put pressure on him, he puts pressure on me.  They want 50 percent of the business. I speak to two people in the village that were on the hamster wheel of commerce before they slumbered into McGregor.
They both said no way.  Don’t give in.  So then Pieter is seeing this as a way to having more income and less stress, but I can see very clearly this is not the case.  Those rose coloured glasses make me sneeze as soon as I lift them into position.
So he tries various angles and eventually says oh shit well Cian won’t be able to go to the Waldorf school in Stellenbosch.
And immediately my heart somersaults because I see how much this means to him.  And before I can stop myself I tell Pieter I will take responsibility for the school fees and board and lodging.
Of course the business just ticks over and provides for a simple way of life.  I am constantly at home or at work and am the holding context for this seemingly vast ship, but I don’t get paid.
And here I have committed to undertaking this monthly expense.
Then the school says they are full and I beg and plead and get put on the top of the short list.  Hey, Nina I am already in the fall out zone of the reality of the unschooling.  And yet it can’t be any other way. Cian approaches his wealthy American grandfather who of course says he can’t help in any way.   He then approaches my mother who has just been conned out of almost everything – and she says she will see what she can do….

I don’t know how someone like Terrence Mckenna escaped me for so long.  My last blog I was taken up with Jed Mckenna.  And in the moon phase since that was written, Terrence barged his way into consciousness with a bang. Shamanism has never tapped me on the shoulder before. The intelligence of plants had been pondered but not exploded into potentiality. And suddenly this box was finding tones for the pineal gland, articles, forums, podcasts of dmt and in particular ayahausca.  Called to this experience very deeply.  To such an extent that for my 51st birthday, I am hoping to attend an ayausca ceremony.
Almost every account I have read of people who have partaken in this experience talk of how the plant tells you what you need to know.  Shows you what you need to see.  That whilst lsd and other hallucinogenics  can show you an intensified version of this reality ayahausca shows you a different reality completely. It apparently pulls the veil off from over the eyes.  The illusion is exposed for what it is.  What else is there to desire on a personal level.  Understanding this dream in its entirety is the only way this fragile sanity will endure.

Find myself again on a night mission – this time dressed in black.  My heart feels 16 again.
I have in my hands a fat black permanent marker and a ruler.
My purpose – well there is a new estate agent in town who seems to be selling all these empty plots of land around here to wealthy speculators.
And of course there is naught that can be done about this but this urge arises in me to change the S  in the For Sale and Sold signs to $.

The kids ask me where I am heading dressed like that.   I tell them.  They think it is great.  So I set off but tonight the moon is completely absented herself (I personally think she was casting some magic in the yellow sea) – so I can barely see where these signs are.  Find one only to discover that it is on corrugated cardboard and thus the line will only be as thick as the groove.
Ah foiled.
Fortunately I have all the time in the world to play as I will - the external world crumbles and I do nothing to stop it.
And at this ripe old age I find an old x-ray.  I purchase some gold paint and a blade.   I not only cut out a $ sign I cut out a Euro sign as well to cover the E’s.  And the graffiti artist is born.
What is it that watches the unfolding?

Three times this week I have had the same dream.   I am floating down a river.  Gliding on water.   The scene fades further out and I am floating slowly down a wide, clear river.
I am not going anywhere other than along the river – when suddenly a woman jumps into the waters with me.  She is known to me and if I had to use one word to describe her it would be energy.
She glides towards me and says she just wanted to float down with me.  She can’t stay long.  I am not aware of the river banks or the sky I am just with the water slightly pouring over me.  Rough enough to bump me but not strong enough to displace me.  We stop.  She has seen an owl nest hanging over the river and feels it is too low.  If the waters rose there would be trouble.  The nest which contained a mother owl and her babe.  The nest is hanging from nothing; it just dangles downwards from empty space.  .  This woman reaches up out of the water and raises the unsupported nest higher.    I then too stand up on the water to make it higher still.  The owls just watching.
By some act of fate not based on merit or worthiness, I get to experience a simplicity, a belonging, a joyful and most importantly a peaceful existence.  When I am not looking outwards that is.  It came to me as I stepped into my office to escape the heat – that suddenly the world’s movie was on my screen again.  And with that the anger, the frustration and the rage.
And that is perfect.  Nothing needs to change.
I don’t need to accept the carnage, I don’t need to beat myself up for not being able to turn the other cheek.  It is okay to look outwards and see what comes to this seeing and feel what comes to this feeling.  And it’s also okay to say okay I have tried fasting, done the meditation, done the acceptance, done the I am god thing and now willing to lose the limitations of this minds construct and programming.
Breathing in, breathing out - smiling in the midst of it. Raging in the midst of it.  Dancing in the midst of it.  And I guess slowly dying in the midst of the living.  And on that note with the fading light and my spray paint and x ray, the village beckons.






























The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Buddha