Learning to laugh at myself!

A CON ON ME ( economy ) Is there anymore to say? There is no bone in my body that is political or economical, except for shopping at the grocer, but I have noticed that some wires have gotten  mixed up somewhere.  I always imagined that a good Leader was someone with the following characteristics: - Guiding or advising a group of people towards prosperity and upward growth. - Taking a stance and making a difference even if it made you unpopular. - Choosing the health of a nation over internal politics. - Bringing good ol' fashioned values, amongst which lies honesty and sincerity. - Being of a strong spirit and courageous in tough times. - Strong enough to take a blow but humble enough to ask for help. - Resolute in matters that count and flexible in others. - Born with a backbone or at least taught how to have one. - And looking after life itself. Where have they gone? It amazes me when I catch a peek at a newspaper or listen to pr...

AN IDIOT WAITING TO BLOSSOM Like most idiots, the flower remains tightly bound to its current course and holds stubbornly to a divine procedure. It must remain tightly bound and closed to the world for an allotted time before it is signalled to open slowly.   Inside its complex being, there is held a kaleidoscope of colours, fragrances and beauty and the best kept secret . . . the ability to seed others just like it! The idiot in the same picture, does this slightly differently - Bound by time, as is the blossom, and sheltered from the world, as is the blossom, the idiot struggles and resists the natural divine procedure. From within the idiot bloom, there arises chaos and an intimate internal struggle - one half wanting to remain closed and unseen and the other, wanting immediate exposure . Both . . . unnatural. The idiot's struggle is both insecure and unsure, as well as ambitious and brave and whilst being natural ingredients for the right kin...

THE CHAINS THAT BIND As we struggle against the alarming and often overwhelming constrictions placed upon us, freedom calls from a far distant place. So many times we are taught that the things that bind us can only be of this world. They lay claim to who we have been, who we are and what we will become - in essence - our past, present and future. Caught in a loop that lasts a lifetime and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but never reaching it, death sometimes becomes the only way of reaching it. We feel ill-equipped at touching that light of freedom, without somehow dying to get there . The most common ploy where people and organisations - again managed by people - gain control of someone, is to enter a contract, agreement or a promise, whether written, spoken or in blood. And so the liberation of a new house, or a chance at a new business or even a gift turns sour and the initial joy that was felt, deteriorates until only a phantom is left to take care of the debt...

When your Treasure Chest is empty! Tens of thousands of people have come through our programs dealing with Inner Mastery of their Spirit and Outer Mastery of their Reality. I had to explain the different types of students and rather than delving into the layers of programs from Beginners to Advanced, I sought a better way to navigate what can be a torrent of egoistical indignancies. Two kinds of students came into my mind and I saw a Treasure Chest. I saw a stream of students carrying their personal Treasure Chest and as they came to us, the chests were opened and inside was empty. There was no gems nor precious stones, gold nor silver and they turned themselves away and left. I saw streams of these students filter through and some lingered hopeful, while others disappeared in a stormy silence. Once in a while, as students would appear and when they opened their chest, a beautiful jewel could be seen lying on the bottom. It did not matter if the gem was small or lar...

POETIC SHORT STORY An interview with god I was at the end of my tether when I dropped to my knees in prayer A chance meeting with my maker, a conversation regarded as rare I knew I was taking a chance, dialogues were few and far between This was the almighty, the cosmic creator, always the great unseen I cowered in patience for a moment for the mighty voice from above Hoping against hell that the gossip or scripture was all true about love I had read in the book of the fiery furnace and brimstones from hell I wasn't quite sure if I were ready for that religious hard line of sell I sinned and fornicated for sure, I was no saint from the alters of old I gave freely to the elderly and poor, I was told I had a heart of gold But when it came down to it, I had never been on my best behaviour I was rebellious and I challenged authority and seldom called a saviour I waited patiently on my knees, palms held touching before my chest The sweat was dripping down m...

Buckets of Emotional Poop! Don't be alarmed! It can happen to anyone . . . A dump so large that you struggle to digest and purge it all. If only it were real poop . . . you would just tip it down the toilet. The variety that I am speaking about, is not that elegant and the viscosity of it makes it stick for long periods of time.  We all enjoy friends and family coming over for a barbecue or a cuppa and we are wide open to a phone call that lasts a maximum of forty minutes - give or take. We welcome the occasional seeker who needs to clear up a foggy head or work through some troubling waters and we may be open to a chat about a small insignificant disaster or drama. What we are not available for, is the buckets of emo-poop  which find themselves on our doorstep! Tears are one thing and hugs are another, as well as headache pills, but hours of drama? Description of Emo-poop : 'Lands unannounced, taking you unawares, comes in truck loads, reoccurs...

How To Be World-Proof A frantic day at the office or an exhaustive day at home with all the chores that need to be tended to and the dogs and cats need to be fed at the last minute. The rush of traffic and blowing of horns, the seven coffees suppressing the stress running through the body and the emails that have to be sent immediately. The timed onslaught of cellular activity and the screams of a boss who has no place even being on earth.  The pull of the television for entertainment to escape the paradox of exercising versus yoga . The dash to yoga to avoid being late and the crowded room smelling of sweat and perfume, enough to intoxicate someone into an altered state . The overbooked holiday and the getaway to allow all the work to be completed in silence and peace . The yelling of disgruntled shoppers and the horns blowing out their frustration amongst the people wearing earphones to escape the bombardment of thoughts. The visitors and their expectations, obligatio...

FINALLY . . . I AM DEAD! It happened about an hour ago! I lay there thinking that I had to go to obscene lengths to kill this person that I had become. A person beholden to others and trapped by expectations which twisted her sense of self worth. She was constantly waging war against the ghosts of the past, the mothers and  the fathers  who manipulated or who were manipulated themselves and the siblings who didn't care either way. Looking back at the deceased (for that is what she is now), I realised that she had no damn choice in one sense. Born into a world where her mother was dripping in self pity and her father coping through tyranny, she felt as if the world was like walking on broken glass, so she tread lightly, not like a giant should. She twisted herself into indescribable knots of angst and rebellion - a part of her wanting out - and another wanting to stay because what choice did she have? At every junction, she could forgive...

PULLED IN SEVEN DIRECTIONS! It is like being Snow White and having seven dwarves around you, trying to grab your attention!  One friend insists that you should not be on social media because it is a conspiracy. Another friend asks quietly why you are not on social media yet? And still another friend demands that you get really active and allow yourself to be 'seen'! A fourth friend hints but is discreet and a fifth sends you messages that you cannot ignore. While a sixth friend releases all wedding and birthday photos on social media, knowing you have no choice if you want to see them, as a seventh friend receives your very first blog and emails you with her disgust! Where do I go to find the one who best reflects me and my heart? Being pulled in many directions by friends and family is not uncommon and is certainly not confined to just social media dramas. It is alive and real in most situations and forces us to choose continuously. The only problem is tha...

ANXIETY - The Mother of all Jokes It is the number one cause of any client coming to see us at the moment, as Hypnotherapists! It was so prolific that we had to dig deeper and go beyond what common understanding had to say about it. As an epidemic, it is a dis-ease which is affecting so many people and there are no boundaries as to ages, stereotypes or conditions. It seems to be crossing all borders and defying all rhythms. This is what made us search in the unknown landscapes where science barely dips a toe. . . We could pick up the obvious markers, such as the physiological ones, the emotional ones and the mental ones - all pretty understandable.  But we had to dig deeper into the spiritual ones to gain a bird's eye view of the bigger picture.  What we discovered was a pandemic of unknown fears! Each person who needs a session has underlying unidentified fears, which ruminate beneath the surface causing discomfort - at a simple level - and anxiety at a heig...

∞  The Secret Genie  ∞ I am appalled! The Genie has come out . . . struck the blow . . . and disappeared and I did not even rub its bloody lamp! There I was minding my own business, when all of a sudden I am attacked by my own world.  I know that I have been saying for years, that I am afraid of spiders, but that was an honest admission which came at a price. You can't tell just anyone about that fear because they all seem to have this urge to throw a piece of wool at you or run their fingers softly up the back of your neck. And you are all probably wondering what a spider has to do with the Genie . . . Everything! My secret Genie belongs to me and only I have access to it - well that's not really true - if I am in shock or unconscious or really emotional, others can access it too! But it has been years that I have telling it, that I am afraid of spiders and in its truest form and nature, it seeks to please me without any form of value assessment or jud...

Scratchy on the Inside . When we feel an itch, we scratch it if we can or we grab a friend to scratch it for us . . . . . . right? But an itch on the inside is quite another thing altogether. At first, we do not recognise it because it comes through us, as a feeling coated by irritation . We receive the irritation part straight away and immediately assume that it is the other person or the wind, the bank account or even the hair that won't lie flat. But the feeling that lies lurking beneath that irritated surface is the signpost!  That's just the beginning . . . If we were to dig a little, without releasing an atomic bomb amongst those we care about, we would discover the feeling . This feeling holds atomic potential because it has a little payload of its own. Once we get into contact with the feeling of loneliness or emptiness or anger or terror or sadness . . . and I can go on like a mad woman through the emotions, but I gather you get the gist? Once we h...

Procrastination!  The one word that everyone avoids . . . We take our time dragging weary feet from one task to the next and forget that life has moved on at an increasing pace. Our dreams, desires, wishes, wants and hopes all trundle with the stream of life ahead of us, in anticipation of the moment when we catch up to them! They have life too!  Those dreams and desires our souls have, want to be experienced in their full richness that we have embued them with. They have stacked up, those wistful images of relaxation on the beach, the meaningful coffee with a daughter which keeps being stalled, and the leaving dreams of an abusive spouse.  They wait just beyond the horizon and remember . . . When we eventually drag our feet and reach those synchronistic moments, where a dream or desire is within reach and obtainable, the anger within us comes forth and overwhelms us. It is like a raging swarm of bees . . . only these thoughts don't sting . . . they engulf and pa...