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.
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.