spring has sprung

and i am confused and at peace. sometimes the one, some times the other and sometimes both at the same time.


in the last month i have received a calling followed by a spirit wrenching initiation process. each morning when i say my prayers nothingness stir through my heart. sometimes i remember and sometimes i forget.



our hen was killed by a dog. we don't know where she was hiding her eggs.



soon i will go on an amazing journey named the call of the wild.



i find peace in not knowing.



i still pray for a gentle female teacher to show me the way of compassion and magic. who will laugh with me and tell me stories. who will sit with me in the nothingness and who will drum me into a laughing dancing frenzy. a compassionate heart.



i wonder about death often. sometimes my dreams are filled with the voices of the ancestors.



i want to share this. i want to keep it safely held in the silence of my heart.



i feel confused. i feel found. i feel anxiety. i feel acceptance. i feel yearning. i feel peace.



each day is mundane. when i remember each moment awash with new magic . everything is the same old same. all have changed.


i don't know.



may your heart remember you*

Initiation

this morning i woke up to a dream
about the blood of jesus.

experiencing the ritual sacrifice of a goat
changed this familiar tale.

i guess the goat visited my dreams after all.

contracting and expanding

as i walk into the rest of my life
i feel my heart rapidly contracting
and expanding.

i find out my new job is badly paid
my safety contracts.
i read through my research brief
my thoughts expand.

the new spiritual initiation
i enter into
confuses my heart.
am i contracting,
or expanding,
trusting like a fool
dancing over the mountain edge?


when i feel my ancestors moving closer,
gently laughing at my fears,
holding me by moving closer,
my heart feels safe.

outside it is grey and wet.

we had some winter rains.
the fields i love to walk through
are blackened by winter fires.
in the late afternoon the sun dances across them.
small motes of dust contract and expand.

how do i write about my life
while my minds skids around the edges
not wanting to sink into the things i love?
dogs skipping through the twilight.
f. leaning in to kiss me,
boundaries expanding
new wisdom arriving.

to my life i surrender.

outside the
the sound of rain
falling through leaves.

inside computer sounds,
a light as round as a moon
and wolves snoring in their baskets.

today i wait in silence. tomorrow i sing unknowingly.

how to start

i find myself struggling to start.

my story has so many entry points.

shall i start with my new job?

after two years of uncertainty
i am about to receive a salary again.

when i stepped out of my corporate career
i knew it was the right thing to do
yet i felt like i was stepping into nothingness.

the new world i stepped into is full of ideas
and sleeping late
while sunlight strokes a leaf
at eleven in the morning
i am often here to see it.

yet often the fear of non-survival
of not earning
made my stomach churn and my heart shake.

then i found a book.

one of many
entry points.

this one spoke of the way of the wild witch
of an earth-bound wild spirituality
of making a promise to the earth.

suddenly

a job as a research assistant
power relations within government
democracy and knowledge
management in South Africa.
how does these interact
with global environmental policy?

developing a greening proposal
for the geography department
introduces me to those working towards
changing mindsets across the university.

joining earthlife africa
a project investigating acid mine drainage
leads to the possibility of rehabilitation
of a mine poisoning the drinking water
of a local nature reserve
animals aborting their young and dying
of thirst.

for the first time in my life i feel like i
am doing what needs to be done.

i sink into each moment
without worry
about being more
present
in who i am suppose to be.

this new path
makes my heart tremble.

yet inside the sadness of all
that i cannot change

burns the hope about that which i can.

maybe i should start with the simple peace of knowing
things unfold in their own time.

a blissful day

lounging in the sun, quivering with the grass, getting lost in the blue-blue sky.

questions and answers

my brain has gone into overload.
not a good thing to happen the day before my exam.

the last week was spent studying cultural citizenship.
at first my brain loved it. it all made so much sense.
the division of humanity into haves and the disposable rest.
by retreating into the private sphere
we give up the ability to collectively dream
and create a common good.
market metaphors infiltrate our very being.
we close our eyes to the suffering that surrounds us
while trying to find pleasure for sale.
our bodies become the property of governments
rather than sources of infinite possibilities and pleasure
we fear the laughter of the other.

russian dolls.

unpack each idea and another nestles inside.
in the center is a small doll.
she does not like exposing her private self.
when with others she sees only her own pain.
she believes that it is up to her to save herself and others
must do the same.
she is lonely and scared.
she wants the government to protect her.
to be worthy of protection and respect she conforms.
everything she buys contains hidden within it
the suffering of many.
every time she buys it she helps someone
make a profit.
she does not know those who suffer or gain.
she does not know her safeness
and how it isolates her
from others who are unsafe, disposable, stuck.

i want to change but i am scared.

when i step outside
i step out of my self.
how did everything get to be this fucked up?
this machine we created is so big and so hungry.
how do i stop feeding the machine
without it turning on me?

i want to change the world.
i fear that the world is unchangeable.

which parts of my reality do i create
and which are created through a collective dream?
is it a dream or a nightmare?

how do we wake up?

we could go outside and gently place the doll inside a tree
and under the moon.

maybe during the night a whirl
of leaves will pick her up and swirl her around.

until the song of the world fills her hollowness

and allows the spirit,
which academia rarely speaks of,
to burst her defenses open
until light blows away the walls that surround her.

suddenly she realises she does not have to save the world alone.

we can all do it together.