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.