A JOURNAL
"Allow me to learn with you," as one of my teachers always begins his lectures.
And to quote my core belief:
"A sense of separation from God is the only lack you really need to correct." T.1.VI.2:1
Thunder and Lightening.
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Who knew? Someone actually took the time to make this.
By popular demand! I slept with my eyes open. It was recently brought to my attention that I will be turning 66 this December. I can't tell you how that feels. It's the strangest thing. I don't feel 66. I don't know what 66 is supposed to feel like. I stopped thinking about my age at 64. It's as if someone hit the pause button on time. But, in real time I am about to turn 66. I've considered myself informed, well read, conscious and as living on purpose, not by coincidence. But, I have been in a coma. Sleeping with my eyes open. I saw, I heard, I assessed and I considered. I judged, forgave, condemned, pardoned and adjusted, moved and swayed like a branch in the breeze trying to accommodate the un-functionality of soul without realizing that my soul was something apart from my body. I have been medicated to balance my bouncing mind. It keeps me awake all night sometimes. And when I do sleep, I dream I am do...
Depression? Pah! Luxury! Let's talk about trauma. SOUTH AFRICA I am not a native to Africa. My ancestors come from Ireland and Scotland via Lesotho. Not everyone is a refugee, but everyone is dealing with everyone's refugees, and although I am more of a deposit left by ancestors who came to build and ... and died leaving the offspring here in South Africa, I feel like a bit of refugee in some senses, not right for here, but not right for anywhere else. What to do with the likes of me? I am certainly more African than I am European. South Africa struggles on with issues that are overwhelming for everyone and the privilege of voting serves little comfort when elected leaders act like looters, careless with the lives of citizens, regardless of colour or creed. Crime and corruption filter from the top, down, into every area of public life. There is the danger of having one's welfare affected by such corruption and crime,...
Writing has been difficult of late, but my juices turned into ample spit enough to swallow a pill. Laughing. The pink and white pills keep me sane. While my words play games in my brain. But, at least, an absence of vicious pain. I travelled on-and-on with wonder, Through white flashings and thunder, With one thing and then some other. Sometimes a sharp kick from a blunder, Throws my coffee cup and stuff asunder This has been a busy round of summer. I've floundered beneath my many pillows Trying to ignore life's peccadilloes. It's a rough bout with invisible foes. I've painted pictures in my head and pondered books I have read, and read. All this while lying quite still in my bed. Laughing, Love and Light
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