O P o t B

Packaging tape to wrap up the memories I want to keep.  Boxes to hold the pieces that constitute, what was once my home, to be taken to rebuild a new one.  Foundation pieces reflecting that which I have become.  Memories drop like leaves from a tree strewn across the floors of the house as I prepare for a new start. The house I leave is a facade, concealing all the flaws and inadequacies of its construction.   A message from the universe?  Is it a reflection of my life thus far?  From the outside all nice and happy concealing the hurt and heartache underneath.  I wonder? What of my new home? A quaint two bedroom cottage, kitchen that has been refurnished with new cupboards, bathrooms that have been tiled over and everything in its place. A small patch of nature in the form of a pristine garden complete with water feature and jacuzzi.  Everything that I have always wanted in a house. Is this a symbol that I have discovered who I am?  The facades and masks removed the true me.  I won

"I never knew you were like this", is a comment I often hear - from those who have known me for some time- after reading my blog.  At first I was surprised, but after a time I realised that they may be right. When I was thinking about it, the movie "The Mask" came to mind.  Like the main character in the movie, Stanley played by Jim Carrie who had a mask that transformed him both physically and psychologically, we to have masks that transform us. I have discovered that I used to own a whole hoard of masks, one for every occasion.  Wearing a mask allowed me to belong and provided the context when dealing with people and situations, but most of all it protected the core of my being from being exposed.  One disadvantage though I must admit, is like a real mask, where the view of the world is limited, this mask had the same effect with one little twist.  My perception of the world was shaped by the mask that I was wearing. I discovered that there were at least fou

Working in the corporate world can be quite a challenge as people try to impress and make a name for themselves.  Political games are abound an many seek out likely allies, that they believe will further their careers, or even subscribe to ideals, that they do not even believe in, in order to align themselves.  Yet others become spineless and move with the flow hoping they can avoid any fallout by saying the "right" things. And yet others go into survival mode and ensure their survival at the cost of those around them for that of the organisation.  All this in pursuit of perceived fame and fortune. But all is not as gloomy as it sounds.  Here and there, there are pockets of sanity were those that are in charge understand that, ultimately, they are there to serve the organisation and make sure that the thousands that it provides jobs to are the reason for there existence. That their responsibility extends beyond that of the little turf that they are custodians of.  It is the

I never knew I could love an animal as I love my cat.  Over the years I have had many pets, dogs, cats, birds and i even once had a chameleon as a pet.  But never in all these years have I loved an animal as much as I love Jojo.   As I have mentioned in a previous post "Curious about Jojo", I acquired Jojo under very special circumstances.  It was as if though Jojo was made especially for me.  Jojo is a Devon Rexx and has some very distinctive features.  As with all Devon Rexx's, he has no fur on his belly.  His head seems rather small and his ears a bit too large.  His eyes seem to protrude from his head and the shape of his mouth and nose ends abruptly giving him a rather alien look.  His neck has very fine short fur and the pink of his skin is visible.  The rest of his body is covered in white fur with chocolate coloured markings that resemble those on a jersey cow.  A chocolate patch runs across one eye and it seems as though he wears a mask.  While he has whiskers,

Sitting at my desk, sipping a cup of coffee.  The sky painted a warm shade of orange as the sun starts its journey announcing the dawn of a new day.  The stark white of my life's canvas staring back at me patiently waiting for the first stroke of my brush.  What colour should I start with? What will be the base colour of my canvas?   I thought about my life thus far and the choices I had made that got me to this point. There were many moments like these when I had looked at my life and considered the choices and I had made.  I often contemplated what it would have been like, if I had made different choices?  Would the outcomes have been different?  Would my life have taken a different turn?  These questions remained unanswered and took a toll on my self confidence and my ability to remain positive and hopeful. Not quite the thing I should be thinking of, with brush poised in hand ready to make the first stroke on my life's canvas.  It dawned on me, had I had the opportunity

As I sat in the coffee shop sipping a very large cappuccino, watching those around me reading, chatting or just enjoying a cup of coffee like me, my mind drifted. Thoughts of friends, family, of things gone by, the present and the future. Random thoughts one leading to another, relaxing and just enjoying the atmosphere and rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Taking another sip of the coffee my mind took a new turn and I thought about those whose birthdays were coming up, including my own, and I felt inspired. A fitting topic for a blog. The question really is, why do we place so much importance on a birthday? Considering that there are six billion people on earth today, surely the birthday of one, in the bigger scheme of things, is insignificant? These and other questions about birthdays I contemplated and thought about and decided thus. What makes a birthday significant in our lives is not the fact that this is the day on which we left the protective comfort of our mother

How time has passed on before mine eyes?  It seems like only yesterday that I was walking with my satchel to school.  We lived in an area called Mosquito Valley.  It earned its name by virtue of the fact that it was adjacent to a wetland "Oupa Fats", the origins of the name escape me now,  and in the summer months, mosquito's abound.  Tumbling out of bed at some ungodly hour to shower and then dawn on the clothes of the day.  The only stipulation for uniform was a tie and a blazer aptly called the butcher blazer.  Chocolate brown, with a gray stripe bisected by a white one.  The uniform of Nirvana Indian High School.  Walking down the newly paved road to the main thoroughfare to the CBD, and across through an alley, down a paved road right at the Mosque and two blocks down to the pre-fab school.  The school was constructed out of asbestos sheeting sandwiching a layer of insulation and painted a sort of bright green.  Windows were made up of small rectangular panes ver

It sometimes feels as if the words in this blog have been strung together in a single story.  This is a story that began as a challenge to write and has evolved to into an expression of me and my impression of things around me.  If, like me, your vision has been tainted by the many experiences pleasant and unpleasant and you have had numerous dialogs where the only participant is yourself than you may appreciate this more than many. I can never explain the joy and elation I felt when my son was born.  It is said that a father develops a bond with his children over time, however for me, the first time I set eyes on my son the connection was instant.  My heart burst forth with love for him and every time I looked at him and into his eyes it reminded me of the love that I had for him and also, at the time, the most important person in my life, his mother.  That she could have born and nurtured a son of mine inside of her, is indeed a gift from the Most High so sublime.  When I saw him f

Events of the day have made me realise that I have crossed over into a new chapter in my life.  What was once familiar, though hurtful, was a source of great comfort for it was known.  Now I have crossed the precipice and like it or not I have to accept that my life has been irrevocably changed.  This is a place that is unfamiliar, where my own company is cherished, where I see myself as I am and where I can enjoy what I am and what I have become.  All the ties that bound me have been shaken off.  All the emotions that held me prisoner have evaporated to reveal the illusion that they were.  All the fears that once were, have faded and the new fears that have attempted to take over have been fended off. I have been set free and I now realize my potential.  The emotions that threatened my happiness, nay my very existence, have no effect on me.  The past and past relationships, which hung over me like an albatross, while unsettling, are fading fast as the distance from the precipice w

He was older than he once was when I met him.  The trails and tribulations of life had chiseled wrinkles on his face making him older than he was.  And when he spoke, he spoke with such passion, that his whole face lit up and it was as if all the wrinkles disappeared in an instant. His voice rich and deep spoke of someone who had experienced life deeply who had found his true self and the light in his eyes reflected the beauty and innocence of his soul. Sitting on the floor with pillows scattered around and sipping some coffee, I turned to him and said, "What is the meaning of existence?". "Existence?", he said, putting the cup down and facing me. "Surely", he said, "you mean, the meaning of life?". "I guess", I said.    "To be a bee and nothing more than a bee when you are a bee is to live, anything else is to exist", he said smiling.   As I contemplated his answer, he finished his coffee stood up and left me alone wit

The Bedouin wrapped the red and white checkered shawl around his head to protect himself from the blistering sun bellowing its heat across the vastness.   Sand, piled up in endless dunes, stretched across the horizon painting ribbons of gold and brown across the landscape.  Here and there, the light rippled across the surface creating the never ending illusion of water rippling in the breeze.  He turned his back to the west and stepped forth on a path known only to those who had made their life on this baron landscape. Tethered to the Bedouin's lead, a caravan of camels stepping on a path that had been traveled by thousands before. Threading there way towards the journeys end, a smile on their faces with a secret that they only knew. As the sun relentlessly made its way across the sky, so the day gradually became unbearable. He stopped short and instructed his camel to kneel and swung his weight into the saddle strapped to its back and the camel resumed its march. It had been f

A yearning fills my heart and is drawn towards that which only it seems to know will complete it. There is a void in my soul that fuels the yearning. Thoughts wishing away the void never seem to materialize.  Emotions that flutter through my body never catch a hold. I seem to be caught.  I cannot recognize the world around me and reality has become my illusion.  What was once clear and bright has receded into the mist and things that should be familiar cannot be recognized.  I wonder through the mists seeking out a signpost back to the familiarity of what is known but it seems to elude me. Moments stretch to minutes and further to hours and I cannot distinguish the days.  Time has become elastic and unremembered.  Events have taken on a life of there own and rush by me unseen.  The immediate past has fused with the present and in it the yearning void. Eyes glazed, I walk through the world. Voices that call and are never heard.  Endlessly seeking the end of the void.

I parked my car across from an abandoned parking lot, which was filled with street pigeons.  Colouring the asphalt surface in a blueish gray, they searched for the remnants of the last meal that had been strewn across the ground earlier that day.  They did not seem to be scared of humans and lazily stepped or fluttered there wings just staying out of reach of the little boy's hands. The pavements were dotted with papers and other unidentified rubbish.  The shops around faces tormentingly old as the landlords had failed to upgrade them.  Parking attendants roamed the streets looking for an opportunity to find a parking space for the hundreds of cars that were making there way to the food center of the city. Sidewalks crowded with vendors selling there wares.  DVD's, pirate of course, fake jewelry, watches, sweetmeats, sweets and a myriad of other wares eking out an existence from the hungry consumer based society.  Restaurants, established by immigrants who have managed to c

How easy it is for us who are fortunate enough to have mothers to forget those who have to take up the role of mothers through no choice of there own.  I was thinking of a close friend who found herself in this situation at a very early age and this is my tribute to her and all those who find themselves in this situation. Even though you were not prepared for it, you were thrown into a situation, where you as the daughter had to assume the role of mother.  To make sure that there was food on the table, love and care for your siblings and above all put there needs above yours.  In spite of the grief you felt, in spite of the hurt, anger and disappointment, you stepped up to the plate.  Gathering your courage and stepping forth and taking the role.  Against all odds, you raised them, got them through school and through difficult times through happy times until they were ready to venture out into the world on there own. This while you were trying to prepare yourself for your own future,

At the birth of my consciousness, I felt the love you had for me while lying in my world of water, the sound of your heart beat a source of comfort and security.  At the shattering of my world, the moment I was forced to leave the comfort you provided, and I forced to enter the world and draw my first breath, you were there to hold me close to you so that the heartbeat, that had become a source of comfort for me, could be heard. When I sat for the first time struggling to hold my balance your smile encouraging me on, giving me the confidence to do it again.  When I crawled for the first time, you guided me away from danger showing me the way to safety.  When I took my first step, eager to rise to my full potential, you gently took my hand and supported my efforts. When darkness threatened and I crawled into your bed you held me tight so I could get a good nights sleep.  When infections got the better of me you sat up all night sponging me down and comforting me.  When I grazed my kne

I believe in love so deep it overwhelms all the senses, I believe in love so pure it shines like a light, I believe in love so unconditional it has no expectation, I believe in love so abundant it fills the heart to bursting and causes the pain, I believe in love so raidiant it fills the day with light I believe in love so strong it shatters everything in its path I believe in love.....

Time has resumed its infinite course and I have taken the first step on my journey. Things that were meaningful, in what seems like minutes before, have lost all meaning and significance.  My world, that I was once so fond of and attached to, has been irrevocably changed. The landscape, once drab and recognizable, has become a kaleidoscope of color filled with possibilities.  Each step that I take, another step into the unknown. What paths will I cross?  Who will be joining me on this infinite road? Will those who had lit my way before still be there to guide me? Questions I do not have the answers to.  In my heart, preciously concealed, are the markers that will hopefully lead me back to those who are close to me and those that have become so intrinsic to my previous existence.  At this juncture, the only thing I am certain of is, that there is a possibility to strengthen these bonds. I am guided by a new light and a path that resonates with my very existence.  My heart compels me

My cat is lying on my lap fast asleep. The sound of his purring is soothing and I cannot resist stroking his body and looking at the expression of love and contentment on his face.  It is a miracle that I have him in my life.  I remember very clearly that day in January, when I called the cattery and asked if they had a cat available. It was a time when I was in healing and I decided that maybe a pet would assist me in my healing and besides I am a great lover, of cats.  The process of acquiring a Devon Rex is quite complex.  Having bought one a few years back I remembered the process. First the prospective owners are interviewed by the owners of the cattery.  The purpose is to determine if you are suitable to own this very special breed of cat.  Once you have been deemed worthy of possessing one of these beauties, it is time to see the potential little pet.  Now most people think that it is merely looking at the kitten and then selecting one of a suitable color and gender.  This i

It feels like a thousand hours since I wrote my last blog.  The hours and the days have melded together and I have lost complete sense of time.  Moments once separate and distinct have become indiscernible from each other.  It is as though the entire universe has succumbed to my meanderings and the moments have just become unfoldings of each other. I cannot explain or even begin to contemplate the reason for this! All I know is that it happened to me suddenly and for the life of me I cannot identify the exact point in time nor can I pin point the immediate past when the event occurred.  All I can tell you is that a particular event is before the point, anything else seems to have happened simultaneously.  It is as if my entire world has been turned inside out, and the continuum of time has been disrupted.  What should have passed as a long hour has been compressed to mere minutes.  What should have been a day has been compressed into what seems like a few hours, and a minute like the

A Monet, capturing the serenity of the scene in oils on canvas. A van Gogh, capturing the the essence of a man in charcoal and ink. A telephone by Salvidor Dali, linking the aphrodisiac qualities of food with an instrument that, in its own right, can be an instrument of sex.  And many others I have not heard of before, shaping, coloring, painting molding, chipping away and then placing it in a perfect arrangement.  For the casual onlooker a beauty that cannot be explained, for the one who contemplates meaning in every nuance of color, line or shape. Such is the world of the art. To be able to mix paint into various shades of color and then apply it to the canvas and capture a moment in time, or to chip away at a block of marble to reveal the sculpture trapped within or to mold a piece of clay in the shape it wants to be. To weave threads of silk into the pattern it yearns to be, or thread a bead into its place of belonging.  This is the genius of the artist. To be able to see the w

Is it not strange how sometimes you hear and old familiar song and decide to actually listen to it and you realise what a fantastic song it is?  Today it happened to me.  I was on my way to Hyde Park, the rain splattering on the windscreen before being wiped away by the windscreen wipers when this song burst forth from the radio.  I turned the volume up because it sounded familiar and for the first time i listened to the song.  The lyrics blew me away and I rushed over to the shopping center and rummaging through the music DVDs found a copy of the song.  I have been listening to it non stop since then.  The song, The Rose, sung by Bette Midler and written by Amanda McBroom. The Rose Some say love, it is a river That drowns the tender reed Some say love, it is a razor That leaves your soul to bleed Some say love, it is a hunger an endless aching need I say love, it is a flower And you, its only seed It's the heart, afraid of breaking That never learns to dance It'

Being a member of the human race, it is only natural to want to belong.  It is, I guess, a natural instinct that we, as social creatures, are born with.  This instinct is so strong in us, that we often assume some definition of what we should be in order to have a sense of belonging. The right of passage rituals that are prevalent in so many cultures, epitomizes this instinct to belong. When an adolescent is asked to participate in a right of passage ritual, it marks the end of childhood and the beginning of adulthood.  These rituals serve to create a bond, through the common shared experience, that entrenches the sense of belonging for a lifetime. Religion does exactly the same and the binding force behind religion is a common belief system.  Religions go a bit further as they often dictate a certain code of conduct, behavior and dress code that should be followed.  This further strengthens the sense of belonging. Race, country of origin, clubs, social circles, etc. are all crea