Have you experienced farm life? You can pick up some interesting stories. I grew up in a close rural community where there were both farmers and fishermen. We had a smallholding and, apart from having vegetables and fruit trees, we also had chickens and bees. So naturally I am more of an outdoors-nature-lover and a salt-of-the-earth type of girl who has a big heart and lives much of her life barefoot.
Now I am aware that in some cultures it is improper or rude to be barefoot but where I came from it is was perfectly normal. Apart from the farmers and fishermen the community was made up of surfers, artists and other unconventional or progressive types (anybody who felt different to the rest of South Africa). Hout bay (hout means wood in Afrikaans) is a bay nestled in the surrounds of the mountains on three sides and the sea on the forth side which made it feel remote and cut off from the rest of Cape Town. It was often referred to as having been its own republic although it was just a joke; many cars that drove in and out of Hout bay had “Republic of Hout Bay” bumper stickers. You could say that I lived in an unconventional community.
Anyway I digress.
I wanted to tell you a little story about Cockerel. One day, two youngsters got hold of their father’s brandy and soaked the chicken feed in it and then fed it to the local Cockerel. This Cockerel was a mean-spirited menace; although he was probably only protecting his wives. I am sure you menfolk could probably identify with feeling protective over your women but my young friends did not appreciate being chased around the garden by a spur-wielding Cock. So they came up with the plan of feeding this fighter with the brandy-soaked meal. Unsuspectingly he heartily gobbled up every morsel. Not soon after which he saw double and he took fright (not flight). He began to weave his way through the long grass and he found that his head wanted to lie down on the grass, so, in order to keep it up and prevent himself from colliding with the ground, he ran faster and faster, picking up speed until he couldn’t keep his head up any longer and eventually his head hit the ground and he summersaulted through the air. He was well and truly out; but not dead.
And why do I tell you the story about the cockerel and ground zero?
Sometimes we can be a little like this cockerel when we get “drunk” on the pressures of society, work, social media etc. and we run and run without taking a break. I can identify with the Cockerel in some way because I find that as a creative person, it is as if I get drunk on creativity, and my life becomes more and more busy and frenetic until I am running about helter-skelter and hit ground zero or zona de impacto; which for me is the creative-wall. I land up feeling flabbergasted at how much I have achieved and yet also in need of internal repair: deep reflection and quietness is what is needed. Sometimes I need to look back and review my actions, sometimes it is the future that I am moving towards that informs me. This is what happened to me this week and here is my poem after my reflection.
Past wisdom Leads and guides Drawing from my experiences. Presence now Is a gift: Freshness, openness and honesty. Living In the now Gifting me and others. The Place of the past Endows me with riches Depth and knowledge. The time I have To show Is short lived But the flow Is most intense That's where I am productive. The space I shift towards Is informed by my awareness Of all that I am and have been Or want to be. Holding, shifting and adjusting, Fine tuning the best life lived. Owning my failures and my victories In my best life.
I hope you all have a refreshing weekend, take care.