Africa is way bigger than we think –

If you look at the map of Africa, you will see all the other countries that can be fitted into it. South Africa, where I live, is located on the southern tip of Africa.

South Africa comprises only 4% of the continent’s total landmass. Cape Town, looking at the map, is on the left, down towards the bottom, with the Atlantic ocean on it’s left. Durban is further up on the right hand side, with the Indian Ocean bordering it.

Johannesburg, where I live, is about 1400 km (approx 950 miles) away from Cape Town, travelling in a SW direction – a two hour flight. Johannesburg to Durban in SE direction is about 600 km – just under an hour flight.

There are 53 or so countries within Africa, most of which are members of the Africa Union (AU) but not all are members of the UN. Nigeria is the most populated with 173.6 million people; Ethiopia: 95.045 million; Egypt: 82,196 million; Dem. Rep of the Congo: 67.36 million (the equator runs through Gabon; Congo; Dem. Rep. of Congo; Uganda; Kenya); South Africa: 52.9 million. Total population of Africa approx 1,138 billion.

South Africa is home to asylum seekers – best guess of 3 million Zimbabweans (we border Zimbabwe), Nigerians, Ethiopians, Somalians, Rwandans, Burundians, those from the Democratic Republic of Congo –

    Within South Africa there are 9 clearly recognised provinces, each with its own legislature, premier and executive council; each has their own distinctive landscape, population, economy and climate. The Cape is the largest in size – Cape Town is in the Western Cape, Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape and the Northern Cape (which takes up nearly a third of South Africa’s land area) borders onto Namibia and Botswana.

Johannesburg, where I live up on the highveld at 6000ft (2000 mts) is actually the smallest province – Gauteng:City of Gold – with the greatest population of 12.2 million.

Within this beautiful country of ours live amazing people of good will. We have a few first class cities, a fine banking system (what banking system is ‘fine’ though I have to ask myself), beautiful landscapes, home to amazing wildlife within our borders. We have poor education for the masses, corruption, murder, rape –  and much of the time we live in despair with our backs against the wall.

Mt. Kilimanjaro is the farthest north I’ve been in Africa – it’s the highest mountain in Africa (Tanzania) standing at 5895m and Tanzania, bordering on Kenya is a few degrees south of the equator.

I MAY write more about South Africa at some stage or the other – I just really wanted to illustrate the size of this huge continent on which I live – and to place South Africa –

I wish you all  in the US a blessed Thanksgiving …

Road Tripping

Jacaranda trees – where I live, taken today.

In August I did a road trip on my own from Johannesburg down to Plettenberg Bay through the Karoo. Earlier this month I did it again, this time with my husband as driver and two American friends. This time we overnighted in Graaf Reinet 800 kms away in the most charming place, Kambro Cottages. The below photo is of the Valley of Desolation, a few kms  outside Graaf Reinet, taken at the top of the reserve, the next morning en route to Plett.

We spent a delightful few days and nights in Plett and visited the newly established Plettenberg Bay Game Reserve a few kms outside of Plett. These are a few of my cell phone photos from the landrover – (see you tube link at end of blog for lion below on the move) –

I could put in more photos of this place of beauty – and write of our time in Plett climbing Robberg, drinking delicious coffees here and there – walking on various shores, watching the waves crashing and receding –

All too soon it was time to leave Plettenberg Bay to Cape Town, about 600 kms or so away stopping in for breakfast at a delightful spot and driving much of the time in silence awed at the beauty of Nature.We spent just over a week in Cape Town. My husband attended an international medical conference for much of the time including the Saturday and Sunday morning which meant that during the day I was the driver, taking my friends here and there. My younger son Davey lives in Cape Town – he joined us with my American friends, when we visited Kirstenbosch Gardens, and took the cable car up Table Mountain.

That’s Robben Island off on right where Mr. Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison. Photo taken from the top of Table Mountain.

My American friends have visited South Africa many times already; this was a trip with a difference. We met up with several Cape Town friends for coffee or supper, people who they knew about from my saying about them in the past, and now it was meeting face to face engaging in conversation. Most days it was Susan, Frederic and myself driving through to e.g. Muizenberg to view ‘Millionz-O-Doodz’ a canvas created by my elder son displayed at an art gallery, on another occasion to Kalk Bay and much beyond, through to Hout Bay and beyond, often times unsure where we were headed. I’m not GPS friendly –

In the evenings the four of us would go out for supper somewhere, the food always delicious, beautifully presented, service attentive. Cape Town is known for its excellent food.

We had lunch at The Vineyard in Newlands, Cape Town one day. It is so lovely. The above photo is from the entrance. Lunch tables are outside and under the oaks on the right.

We trekked out to Gordon’s Bay on Sunday aftrenoon, about a 3/4 hour drive away. The jetty is one I used to walk as a teenager with my parents when we lived there (when Moses was a boy). I usually visit Gordon’s Bay when in Cape Town and walk to the end of the jetty where the ashes of my parents were tossed in the sea many years ago and I say a silent hello while remembering them –

On our way back to Johannesburg from Cape Town, we saw a different part of the Karoo and overnighted outside Colesberg, half way between Cape Town and Jo’burg.

It’s always lovely to be home and find the cats well, grass green, study quickly getting into its usual disarray. Our friends flew back to the States on Monday night – apart from the specialness of having them with us, I feel a sense of pride in some way in being able to show them parts of our beautiful country.

All photos above were taken with my cell phone. The you tube link below of the ‘lion on the move’ was taken by Fiona Smyth, fellow landrover passenger from Ireland, who took the movie and kindly forwarded it on to me. With her permission I’m adding it. Thanks to son Mike in Plettenberg Bay for editing. it’s about 40 secs.

 The WildernessBuffalo at watering hole

 Last week Wednesday was a public holiday, Heritage Day, here in South Africa. The 24th September was formerly known as Shaka Day, after King Shaka, King of the Zulus, who united disparate tribes in the early 1800’s. ‘Heritage Day’ is a newly-named public holiday in which South Africans reflect on their cultural heritage and identity. It’s also known as National Braai Day, in which people spend time with families, gathering around the fire, braaing (barbecuing) their boerewors (farmers’ sausage) and drinking beer. Also, of course, celebrating in different ways, reflecting on our rich history and heritage.

We took the opportunity to go to the low veld on the public holiday at the invitation of owners of a private game farm close to the borders of the Kruger National Park.

O what joy to be in the wilderness.

There’s something wondrous coming across these leviathans appearing so suddenly,  making barely a sound. Here one moment, gone the next.And to see rhino, especially as they’re under such threat of extinction from poachers for their horn. The line in the photo is the aerial of the landrover.

The regal cheetah in the shade of a tree, looking almost as curiously at us as we were at it.

There is something regal about all the animals in the wild. They’re so at home in their world, one with mother nature, living perhaps with uncertainty for who knows how Nature will express herself – drought, fires, raging thunder storms …

Being in the wilderness and experiencing Nature brings it into my own wilderness. Sitting around a great and blazing fire in the evenings with only lanterns on the dining table, being quiet for a while, each with their own thoughts, looking at the sparks of the fire, made an inner connection with me. Walking away from the group and looking up at the stars and the new moon on that first night made another inner connection. Walking as we did early one morning, Iain in front with a rifle just in case, listening to the overt sounds of the bush and listening more keenly and hearing other more covert sounds.

One of my most enduring experiences was watching a herd of buffalo, maybe 500 or 600, coming out from the bushes, and in an orderly way making their way to the water. When we thought that no more could appear from the bushes, then more would appear. Once they’d drunk their fill they walked out on the other side of the water and exited from view to another part of the bush on the periphery. There were some buffaloes on the outside of the herd who seemed to be marshalls ensuring that there were no stragglers going out of line.

There is something soothing about connecting with Nature and her grandeur – the tiniest flower in the dusty gravel, or the blooming bougainvilleas and jacarandas surrounding camp, or the fever trees with their strange pale green trunks and branches, or the baobab tree with a girth of about 4.3 metres at its base that lives to be 3000 years old.

Much of my time I spent listening to the sounds of Nature – to my inner wilderness as well – feeling at peace, sleeping soundly at night, waking at first light – feeling so grateful to Nature and the opportunity to experience her bounty and magnificent beauty –

All the above photos were taken with my cell phone. Maya Ingwersen was one of the guests and with her permission I’m adding some of her wonderful photographs taken with a proper camera and lens …

Tina, the sun may have set on your life.

The sunflowers will live on, as you will, in the hearts and minds of those who knew you.

 It’s the 1st July – extraordinary. A whole 6 months has gone by.

It’s a beautiful winter’s day here on the highveld. Truly, quite gorgeous. The sun is bright and warm, the garden is looking pretty. I’m sitting out on the patio with the table strewn with paints and brushes, and I’ve been experimenting.

I’ve had a few dreams recently that are puzzling. The one I recorded this morning demanded expression. It was the the last part, and very clear. In any event, I had determined from a few days back that today I would actually paint. There’s been an image in my mind for a long while that I’ve wanted to give expression to. This morning’s dream was a strong reminder and a prompt.

So, in trepidation, I set about preparing for this. I know very little about painting and have dabbled in the past when I had a teacher to guide me. I spent a little while looking in the paints and paper drawers to see what I have. After much faffing, tossing out old tubes that had hardened and organising ‘useful’ ones, I’ve done a preliminary ‘picture’ using acrylics. I didn’t use paintbrushes; I’ve used a plastic knife from a palette knife set (made in China) to daub on the sketch I had initially made. As I write, the already applied acrylic is drying – I have much to do yet.

In the meantime, I received a comment today from ‘Ashen’ who responded to my previous post. She shared about dreams and expressing them in concrete form… it is a lovely comment which I will respond to later. I am struck at the synchronicity of her comment while I am bang in the middle of doing just this. Another prompt, even if after the event.

There’ve been many promptings lately, in my dreams. I’m paying attention that is their due of them, or my due to them. Yes, I do look up certain symbols in my dreams from solid sources eg The Book of Symbols: Reflections on Archetypal Images. Taschen. Like ‘stone’, ‘urine’, ‘necklace’. No, I do not make an immediate interpretation. The dream is too valuable for that. 

While setting out papers and brushes and paints, I also copied some quotes on scraps of paper on my desk into another journal. I knew I was procrastinating but I allowed myself this resistance. If only to look at that resistance, forever present in me. Fear of actually putting something down on a blank canvas. I kept on reminding myself that painting a picture of an image was for me and me alone and that I could play a bit and get over myself. So, the painting evolves. I know I will be considering it for a while yet, and if I can be patient, taking care and not giving up, and make something beautiful of it, I will be pleased.

And because I love this Life

I know I shall love Death as well

The child cries out when

From the right breast the mother

Takes it away, in the very next moment

To find in the left one

It’s consolation

Rabindnarath Tagore: from Gitanjali

  Thank you *Philippa Rees, author of ‘Involution – Science and God‘ for inviting me almost 3 weeks ago to take part in this blog cascade or ‘touch-tag relay’ as she puts it whereby we introduce and reveal ourselves to the wider world. I was honoured and decided to accept her invitation because of who she is and what she represents. It’s taken me a long while to put up this post, but there is no moment like now.

*What am I working on?

Dr. Susan Schwartz in Phoenix Az., and I in Johannesburg South Africa, are in the throes of writing a book : ‘Aging & Becoming’. This particular stage of our lives brings a keen awareness of the limit of time left on this planet. This part of the life process continues to shape and shift us. We challenge perceptions that the older woman has little left to offer the world. It also brings an awareness that the older woman is often decried in western societies whose emphasis seems to be mostly on youth. Older women have much to yet contribute. We write about the unsaid.

Susan in the US is a Jungian analyst and I too am deeply immersed in the psyche; our platform is a thoroughly psychological one. Over the last several months we’ve been adding, critiquing, editing, giving shape and form to the book. For those of you who followed our participation in the April 2014 Blog Challenge (see side bar on right hand side), you will have an idea of it.

How does it (the book or the writing in general) differ from other works?

This book is not a ‘how to’ age with e.g. grace and glamour. It addresses the challenges we face as we grow older of which there are many, not least the loss of youth and vigour;  friends and loved ones dying; being incapacitated by illness, accidents. The energies are different at this stage of our lives and for us, it requires a depth-ful attitude and a willingness, even if hard work, to metaphorically and literally face the mirror. Using myth, our own personal experiences and those of others, and using e.g. the vehicle of dreams as messenger to come to the core of who we are, we illustrate the significance of this particular time of aging, and yet becoming –

My first book was also psychological. I was on my own for that. (see side bar). This one on ‘Aging & Becoming’ is with co-writer Susan Schwartz, good friend, who brings herself and her wealth of academic experience to it.

My writing process?

 Fear and trepidation are my companions when I start writing or even when I think about it. I wish I could say that writing comes easily for me, but the truth is, it doesn’t. Whoever said writing is ‘1% inspiration, 99% perspiration’ got this right. Perseverance pays, and when I get down to it, it is not as devilish as I thought. It is even enjoyable as fingers fly and there seems to be some coherence or even incoherence in which something new can be found. Finding time is always a problem, and procrastination is never far behind. Normally I write in silence, no radio or CD’s as background. Discipline is key.

Why do I write what I do?

 Writing on soul and psyche and its innate drive for balance between the opposites, dreams, the unconscious forces in the human psyche and thus between nations, and the ever present paradoxes that confronts us in life, is a task that is complex, difficult, frustrating, yet it is one I am compelled to undergo in my hope to be as authentic a human being as is possible, at least to myself. Too often we neglect our inner lives which holds treasure if we are prepared to go deeper. I am guilty of this sometimes.

 Time, people, place, circumstance changes as it always has over the millennia, but it seems to me that underlying motives and dynamics remain. Boundaries can be broken, risk is required to break free from our comfort zones. Through writing, life experience and observation of my inner world and outer, and extensive reading I think I know myself a little better, warts and all (wishful thinking?). I believe that the invisible inner world holds the potential for wholeness. Within the dark is the light …Always, the question is: Who am I, now? I straddle between both inner and outer worlds and its sunlight and shadows.

Passing on the baton.

I’m introducing Samantha Mozart of Delaware who has accepted the baton. I’ve known her for the last few years via her blog and books. I consider her a dear friend and an extremely talented writer. She was the sole caretaker of her elderly mother, who suffered from dementia. Samantha writes about the task of care-giving with a delicate touch, expressing inter alia the toll upon care-givers, ‘…sailing down that dark stream with its sharp bends encountering rapids…’. Her link is: http://thescheherazadechronicles.org where you will find ‘Shards of tales told in tents and outposts dug up along a dusty trail spanning ten thousand nights’. You’ll meet Moriarty, The Phantom of the Blog who comes visiting every once in a while. You’ll find links to her exquisite writings and information on her books, both of which are excellent and highly recommended for any one who is a care-giver. Interspersed with delicate recipes of eg salmon salad, her own wry sense of humour, music, her books are a delight even while addressing the gravitas.

 Her two books : Begins the Night Music: A Dementia Caregiver’s Journal Vol 1

To What Green Altar: A Dementia Caregiver’s Journal Vol 11

Amazon author page:  http://tiny.cc/x4bybx and Goodreads: http://goo.gl/mgq6R0

 *Philippa Rees: involution-odyssey.com/2014/05/26/flowing-forward-looking-back-blog-cascade/?blogsub=subscribed#subscribe-blog. Do have a look at this .. it makes for very interesting reading.

 Driving home today after a busy morning I tuned into a talk on the car radio about ‘Clutter’ with a psychologist as guest. How much do we allow clutter to rule our lives? On the radio there was mention of a woman who had kept her wedding dress for over 30 years. She was married to an abusive man, long divorced, but yet she kept her wedding dress. Somehow, she couldn’t or wouldn’t let it go. What did she think and feel when she saw it, daily, in her cupboard? What was she still holding on to? Why this constant reminder of her past unhappiness?

We’ve all had the experience of keeping things because we may have use for it at some stage. It’s true also than no sooner have we actually got rid of something e.g. a document, we need it, a week or so later.

Clutter is anything that is kept in spite of not being needed or even wanted. There is no obvious purpose in holding onto them. They just gather dust. They make our homes untidy and sometimes not a safe space to live in. Junk – yet we can’t let it go.

Why?

Well, it’s not easy to say goodbye to somethings that were once yours. Sometimes, we hoard from a fear of scarcity. The cupboards in our rooms and kitchens are always full just in case – is this a generalised fear of the future?

Does all this clutter and junk represent in some way an emotional state of mind? Does this keep us bound in some way, when we can’t or won’t let go of some things? Does continuous tidying in order to locate things, keep us from the task at hand …another form of distraction and procrastination? Another way of not addressing an issue that needs attention, but we can’t address it because all is too disorganised is the excuse we make to ourselves.

Does our external cluttered environment represent our inner world? Even mentally, psychologically and spiritually we become clogged and stopped up.

Before I set out this morning, I read a post on my computer about a woman who had 270 pairs of shoes in her closet. She wrote how her compulsion had put her in debt and more besides. She wrote how liberated she felt when she addressed this by getting rid of most of them, selling them online … her energies returned to what mattered in her life …

This prompted me to commit to tidying my desk and, I’m happy to say, this task is now accomplished. There is more order; credit card slips are in their box along with the statements so that I can check them off. Books are in their proper place. A bowl with all sorts of things in it, has now been emptied. Pens are in their jars. Important lists are at hand. I’ve put things away in drawers. Thrown things away. I’ve tidied my purse. I feel slightly lighter, slightly less stuck. I’ve done some weeding in my study and there’s a little more space, another kind of energy …

Please note – I’m reposting this as part of the ‘Deja Vu Blogfest – 2014’.

       Cultivating the Garden, Cultivating the Mind

‘To forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves’ – Gandhi.

I took this photograph of orchids in pots on the patio with my cell phone last week when we returned from the Cape and the Wellington Wine Walk. I wish I could tell you the name of them. They are so beautiful and came with us from our old home last year when we moved into the town house. I snipped a few stems, and they’re in a vase gracing the table in the entrance of our home.

I am at my desk in my study which looks out into my garden. I see those orchids amongst a backdrop of white and red roses and various other bushy plants and flowers.  We’re winding our way into winter here in South Africa, and I wonder how my plants will fare. No doubt there will be frost.

I think of a few things. One of my mother, long gone, and her extraordinary way with plants, flowers, vegetables. She knew of Findhorn in the north east of Scotland, long before it became fashionable. Its’ history beginning in the early 1960’s, with pioneers Peter and Eileen Caddy, and Dorothy MacLean is a fascinating one. Out of economic necessity and in order to feed their family, they began growing their own vegetables in the most inhospitable soil imaginable. With the guidance of intuition and using inner wisdom – ‘the still small voice within’ – Findhorn became a thriving community. To the amazement of all, those plants and veg were several times larger than normal size, more brightly coloured and flavoursome, more rich in nutrients.

My late mother would talk to her plants, and play them music from a battery operated tape machine (Bach and Mozart), and encourage them to grow. We probably as children thought her eccentric; she was a yoga teacher after all. But grow they did. O my goodness, they were delicious! We learned from an early age to love broccoli, cabbage, lettuce, carrots etc. Nasturtium leaves in our school sandwiches gave them an extra zing and a bit of a sinus washout. Violet petals strewn among salad with home grown tomatoes and goodness knows what else made salad a feast for our eyes and taste buds. Lavender was always planted to attract bees –

Decades later, I also check on my plants and thank them for their beauty. I fret when the bougainvillea in their large pots don’t grow as fast or as assuredly as I would like. I haven’t got round to playing them music yet but maybe I will. I have a portable CD player – I could buy batteries for it and take it outside. I wonder if the bougainvillea would like Bach or Beethoven?

I see the parallels in my mother cultivating her garden with her cultivating her mind. The love and the care she gave to tending her garden was the same love and care she extended in her yoga classes and towards all with whom she came into contact.

Being in touch with Mother Nature and her bounty is a way that we could all cultivate our minds. We can see when things need pruning in our gardens; similarly we can work out what needs pruning in our minds. We can dig and root out the dead wood, that which no longer serves a purpose, remove the weeds that cover over and choke, in our minds.  Welcome the elements, no matter how treacherous they may seem, in our minds as well. Aerate the worms who go about doing their business, in our minds. Plant seeds, in prepared soil, in our minds. Cultivate the imagination as you use your hands to do the work. Have a healthy respect for the messiness and dirt – in our minds. Cultivate it, use it for good compost.

 
  FIELD OF POTENTIAL –

                       VINES ON A WINE ESTATE IN THE WESTERN CAPE, S.A.                                 

It’s wonderful to be back home, albeit 3 days earlier than planned.

It is a wintry autumn evening here in Johannesburg, South Africa.

It’s a familiar and exciting feeling to be here at my desk, putting up a post, my first since the April A-Z blog challenge. Yesterday, the second day of being home, was a day of attending to all sorts of things, and settling in back home. It also gave me time to reflect a bit, and to look forward.

It is good, also, to be able to use my lap top to connect on your posts, read and enjoy, leave comments instead of using my cell phone while away. For me, it’s tricky. But what a wonderful thing is a smart phone – photos even! As is the one above, and below …

We spent the last several days walking and hiking the Wellington Wine Walk (WWW) – about an hour inland from Cape Town. Other towns close by Wellington (20 kms or so) include Stellenbosch, Paarl, Franschoek. All are famous for their wine estates and farms, olives and olive oil; rich in history as well. The area is so beautiful, breathtaking and bounteous. Those mountains, those vines – beauty and creation everywhere. And in the souls of our guides and fellow adventurers on the walk as well.

I may write a future post on the WWW  – and the unforeseen circumstances which is why, in part, I am home earlier than planned. In the original plan, I would have left Cape Town tomorrow night.

So, we’re post the April A-Z blog challenge; we’re post the national elections we held here in South Africa on 7th May; it is now post the WWW; May is quickly about to turn into June; winter proper will soon be upon us; summer is approaching already in the northern hemisphere. June 21st is the winter solstice here in SA; the summer solstice for you up north. The longest night of the year for we ‘southerners’, the shortest day. Night comes early in the day. It will be exactly a year ago that we moved from our old home into our townhouse – and we plan to acknowledge, celebrate and make a ritual of this seasonal change – and to mark our first anniversary on the longest night of the year.

And so the days turn – as do my thoughts and reflections about me, my life and purpose. All this among the news of the world – Boko Haram and their abduction of school girls; the missing Malaysian plane and the new thought that the plane may have been mistakenly shot down in US air space; the flooding in the Balkans; the striking miners here in S.A. –

There’s potential in every moment. Possibilities in every moment. I sense that for me it is now time to make use of the field of potential, of possibilities. To be more intentional in what I write, in what I want to achieve. To align myself with that field of potential with intent, and be open to possibilities. I’ve met so many wonderful people over the A-Z, that have encouraged, supported and sustained me. I am plugging into that energy field of potential.

So, to you, may you align with the energy field of potential and possibilities. It is there – all the time. At your finger tips.