by

what would Freedom say

Wolkberg
I didn’t know it then but when I was a young boy I had immense freedom:
I was free of worry because everything I required was taken care of;
I lived in a quiet place on a hill, away from the city, with nature at my door and neighbours far away;
I spent time outside, – not inside exploring some technological wonder like an iPhone or TV or such, because we had none of that, bar an old crackly valve radio;
There was peace in my life, others around me made sure of that and shielded me as much as possible from the turbulence of life and its tragedies.

As I grew up Freedom retained its core importance in my life. It took on new facets like responsibility and conscience. It wasn’t always easy to be free as life got busy. Often it felt that the default was being ‘not free.’
From having had immense freedom, pure freedom, freedom to be myself within a very loose framework of upbringing, every ounce of that freedom now had to be fought for.
My deep love for Freedom has been a guiding thread all my life. When I felt as if something was encroaching on my freedom I would deal with it. That voice of Freedom inside me would become quite loud and demanding. Like when I took stuff I should have rather left alone. Or when I felt the roof was caving in over my head and I had to escape.

But, even the voice of Freedom must have gotten tired along the way because another voice far cleverer, knowing everything much better, assumed governance over my affairs. It used something called logic. Not logics logic, but my super-logic, and my super-logic stipulated that if something makes money then Freedom is out of the equation. That ‘it’ was of course my ‘brilliant’ mind. For a while it even seemed to really be brilliant. The reason for that deduction was simple. Money gave ‘freedom.’ However on closer inspection the ‘more money’ actually led me to mortgage my freedom in return. In my flawed business model of life the more I wanted the greater my dedication to being a prostitute in my business became. One side effect was that I built up this non-caring, ‘mercenary’ attitude as long as it served my purpose. It also created an unbearable discomfort in the background. Freedom never actually gave up its claim over me. It was so deeply engrained from early on that it was part of me. My craving for freedom grew proportionately to the amount I ignored it. It expressed its desire to be acknowledged by stepping on its own accelerator and that had the label of ‘extreme’ pasted over it. Oh boy, now I was in for a ride and a half as that desire sought fulfilment in adventure. Naturally drawn towards adventure in any case, Freedom knew exactly what buttons to press. These buttons did not come cheap either and so a cycle started that eventually had to find an exit point.

To be free is my natural way of being. I shouldn’t even have to insist on it. My spirit wants to soar and has to be free to maintain sanity. But how do I regain that freedom from that ball and chain around my spirit?
The answer as always is simple. The path to the answer however was a maze. Determined to find one, even despair was no permanent obstruction for Freedom to triumph.
I looked at the issues that bother and burden me: like an ex that did something or my fasting bank account. Then I go and meditate, creating the picture of the issues to the vision of the thought, “I am free.” Now I did it. I said it. I declared my intent and I might have to reiterate once or twice but the issues have been shown the door.

Whatever it is that obstructs the very core of myself to function as per ‘design,’ it needs to be exposed. In the process it helps to be honest with myself.

To me the question not to forget is, “What would Freedom say?”

by

keep on seeing

Zambia 2007 1247

 

Seeing ‘nothing’ unhinges me. Seeing ‘something’ grounds me. And yet, often I want to see ‘nothing’ or hear ‘nothing,’ even think ‘nothing.’ Perhaps that is why so much of ‘nothing’ happens in my life. Nothing actually brings a whole horde of undesirable things with it if you’re not vigilant. Clueless and lost are just a few.
Unless a pilot is qualified and the aircraft equipped, flying into ‘nothing’ generally means you have about twenty seconds before it all goes pear shaped and ends in disaster. In aviation speak they would say you have flown into Instrument conditions. So amongst other things, ‘nothing’ is actually also dangerous.

Seeing means stability.

Seeing however goes so much further than the physical sense of seeing with the eyes. We construct images before our m-eye (mind eye) too, when we think.
Remember the phrase ‘as far as the eye can see? Well, we all know that there is something beyond what the eye can see too. All you have to do is climb on a chair and suddenly you see so much more, and so on, and then of course there is all the ethereal stuff.
Now I close my eyes and I think. First I think of stuff that is tangibly real and that I have seen before. But, soon enough, letting my thoughts take wings, I think of stuff that is more and more far-fetched. I see stuff that defies laws of physics because I have left the physical realm. No matter where I am though, I always see.

In a sense I would like to say that seeing is being.

Just as I know that there is so much more to see which I can’t see from my present position surely I can also know that there is so much more to think which I am not thinking from my current standpoint. And we all know that there is so much more to know which we don’t know.
Knowing all the above, surely I can then postulate: that in everything in my life there is more to it than what I see at this moment, more than meets the eye.
It stands to reason then that all I need to do is shift my position to see more and different and think more and different.

And seeing is believing.

In other words even if I see it in my m-eye, in my thoughts, I can believe it. Often what I see in my mind is ‘unrealistic stuff,’ but it is only so because I measure it with the yardstick of what is possible in my physical reality and as I have just seen, just because something isn’t visible (climb onto the chair) doesn’t mean it doesn’t/can’t exist and be seen.
While my favourite is to say, ‘keep on dreaming,’ for those with the feet somewhat firmer on the ground I’ll say, ‘keep on seeing.’

by

uhh what a drought

_DSC5830

I suppose El Niño and La Niña had a party again. There is not a full bottle in sight.

But alas, there is not just a drought in South Africa, despite the rainy season mixing in its gloomy, overcast, drizzly days. There is a drought in my life too. El Nothing, La Clueless, Lo Lost are wreaking havoc and I can’t say that ‘local warming’ has anything to do with it. All fountains have just about dried up bar the creative one. That seems to be the only one that barely maintains vestiges of sanity. A challenging task indeed.

Some book talks about the ‘seven year drought.’ Sooth sayers even talk about cycles and that misfortune happens in three’s. Well, Nothing-Clueless-Lost is a fearsome threesome. Not the best buddies to hang around with. I’m all cracked-up from this drought like the parched remnants of a once sparkling lake.

Oh give me those rainy days.
Hold on! I actually want sunny days too. Hmm, coming to think of it, I actually need both. But, if nature doesn’t even strike a balance, how am I supposed to? Didn’t we conclude that we are nature?

One think is clear, I actually meant one thing but they are the same: everything in nature happens in cycles. On this planet there is no getting away from it, I have tried. Even if I had an overflowing bank account I would still be exposed to cycles and my money too. If you doubt that then just look at life. It pretty much starts where it ends, – in nothing. That’s another cycle. We are a cycle within a cycle within a cycle probably ad infinitum. Or if that ‘infinite’ idea does not resonate then maybe we are a cycle within that really ‘one’ big cycle, you can call it whatever, like God or something…

Doesn’t a cycle kind of roll?
That would mean that we are never stuck because we are forever cycling.
I could hibernate in a vacuum tube and dig myself really deep away so nothing cycles with me. I guess by doing that I would escape some cycles that beset ordinary folk. But eventually some cycle is bound to get me. I might as well accept the cyclic nature of being-ness. Maybe the more I accept it the faster it will cycle into another cycle. A wave also goes up and down from crest to trough. Everything is energy, energy is frequency, frequency is a wave, a wave is a cycle and a cycle is an up and a down and around again.
I am all dizzy from cycling now.
Enjoy your cycle. There will be a better and a worse one. You will hit rock bottom and then serenade the angels again.
Keep on cycling.

by

Perfection

_DSC5853
_DSC5942 (1)

Isn’t everything that nature presents us with perfect?
I mean could you really find fault in something from nature like it is too small, ugly, messy, awkward, fat, colourless …?

_DSC5871

I have a beautiful garden and now in the rainy season, here on the southern tip of Africa, it produces beauty unimaginable. Not just the many plants but also the birds are magnificent. The sky is a theatre of cloud plays never repeated. The sun adds life and everything reproduces.

I can’t fault nature.

But, I do fault myself, and I fault others. I am actually especially skilled in the latter. Passing judgement on others is the easiest thing. I vehemently fault myself too when I mess up. Forgetting a wallet when going shopping, hurting myself, saying the wrong thing or not doing the right thing etc. etc.

I have another skill-set. I can randomly and entirely un-choreographed produce a string of expletives that I join to my judgements, and, should those word-bombs exceed my thoughts or become louder than a mumble, they would send others cowering.
I am also quite happy to run myself down. Slate myself. Curse myself. Knock myself on the head in disbelief and do even worse things when no one is looking.
But I find no fault in nature. None. I love nature. I have grown up close to nature and have never once that I can recollect, cursed or run nature down.

Aren’t we humans also nature?
If we’re not then what would we be?
For a while, when we are very small I think we are perfect. Then comes indoctrination from those around us and then our mind kicks in and pretty much shapes our behaviour. Now we become clever, judgemental and call others all kinds of names. We think we know a lot and yet we don’t even acknowledge that there is so much we don’t know.

I don’t want to think who and what you are and I don’t want to listen to what others have to say about you.
I want to see you as unquestionably perfect as I see nature.
I also want to believe that I am perfect.

by

lots of lots vs enough

I have that feeling that many in society, me included, are generally not all that satisfied with having ‘just enough.’
‘Just enough,’ has a sound of being poor about it. Maybe even a bit stingy, but certainly there is a connotation of being a bit short-changed.

If you are invited at someone’s for dinner and want to go for seconds and the hostess says,”Sorry, we only made ‘just enough,'” it would surely raise your eyebrow.
It raised mine. There wasn’t even an apology, it was just accepted amongst them that there will ‘only’ be ‘just enough.’

Now why should that raise a question? Why do I want more than ‘just enough?’
I mean I had ‘just enough’ and that is actually more healthy than stuffing myself till I become un-moveable and sleepy and useless.
My grandfather practised what he preached all his life and his philosophy on eating was: “When it tastes the best, stop eating.” Something I have dismally failed at all my life. For him there was always enough and for me there was never enough, and that goes not just for eating. He wasn’t a masochist and I don’t think I am a glutton.
Those same people that had me over for dinner and had ‘just enough’ food, also had a ‘just enough’ car and ‘just enough’ furnishings.
It seemed they were happy with ‘just enough’ and they could have afforded better or more if they wanted to.
For them ‘just enough’ was good enough, however for many of us it isn’t.

I know of many people in Africa to whom ‘just enough’ would be a blessing. I know Africa personally because I live here, and then there are those with ‘not enough’ in South America, in Asia and the rest of the world.

What if I could have everything I wanted in ‘just enough’ proportions rather than wanting too much of everything? I would still be happy and nothing would go to waste.
That sounds like a good plan to me. But, I have a built in fear that ‘just enough’ just ain’t enough for me. I also have no trust that there always will be ‘just enough.’ I am so conditioned to lots of lots and seeing others around me who also want lots of lots. Imagine a kiddies party with ‘just enough’ soda pop and sweets, it would be a disaster, – or would it really?
The strange thing is that the leftover from all our ‘more than enough,’ eventually gets thrown out, – hopefully not into the bin but given to charity.

Somehow we have been conditioned to leave a handsome margin of tolerance in our vision of ‘just enough.’ Realistically however, coming to think of it, ‘just enough’ is actually ‘enough,’ so that there is nothing to worry about, right? Because there is some stigma attached to the term of having ‘just enough’ like you feel you are that little bit short changed, let’s call it just, well, ‘enough’ from now on. I don’t need ‘lots of lots’ or ‘abundant of,’ I need enough to live my life the way I want to live it. There is an enormous difference between excess and enough. Excess I can give away and I think we probably have an obligation to do so.

Isn’t the most rewarding feeling the one of giving, and, still having enough? That’s actually a life of abundance.

by

nothing new – lost in the old

I want new stuff to happen to me.

Specifically new stuff that is part of my plan for my life, – not random, default existential stuff.
I do know for one that it’s good to have a plan. A plan replaces any default, ‘let me make it through another day’. A plan is a vision of ‘something’ from nothing. I plan new stuff not old stuff.
But I question: why does nothing new happen to me? I mean it’s not for lack of having a plan. It’s not for a lack of ideas or wanting.
Seeing there is nothing happening there must be something else.I am puzzled.
This ‘nothing happening’ manifests as a stuck-ness. It feels like the flow of my life is obstructed. There is a lid on my pot.
In search for answers I dig around and sift through philosophies and belief systems and flavours of the month. I listen to gurus, sages, Elon Musk and Steve Jobs. I read Robin Sharma and Wayne Dyer. I change my diet, drink water, sleep enough, get up at dawn, meditate and exercise and stretch. I Feng Shui the house, love my plants, walk barefoot on the dew in the morning and grow my hair, – I change everything for a new start, a new life and for new stuff to happen to me.

But it doesn’t. Nothing happens.
Yeah, certainly, I feel so much better and healthy. I have tons more energy. I am stronger than before.

And then one morning during meditation I found the answer.

I am lost in the old.

Because I am lost I am also clueless of how to change my status quo.
There is so much old that there is no ‘space’ for the new. I have amassed tons of old stuff in my head. I need to do some mind-clearing. House-clearing is of course also not a bad idea while I am at it. It’s like my hangar is full but I want a new aeroplane. My pantry is chockablock but I want a new dish. I can’t even see and I don’t even know what I have anymore but I know that my life has become unbearably heavy. I am chained down by old rules, concepts, beliefs, hangups, mindsets, practices. I can’t fit another thing no matter how much I want it, into my life.

Forthwith, in this realisation, I am asking of myself to make space for the new that I want, by ridding me of the old that has no more purpose going fupwards (forward and upwards).

by

important as a raindrop

The Giraffe was browsing the succulent shoots from the top of an Acacia tree when she saw an Elephant walking by.
The Elephant was minding his business and decided to pause. He rested his right front foot on the polished, rounded-off top of a termite mount.
It was not the first time he had come past here. This was a narrow path which he and many others had walked before him.
His name was Socrates. Other animals had given him that name because, as he stood there, his pose resembled that of someone deep in thought.
And he was. The depth of his thoughts was enormous just like his size.
The Giraffe watching Socrates from the top of the Acacia gathered her long purple tongue, interrupting her gathering of delectables from nature’s kitchen, and commented,
“Socrates, today it has become very clear to me that I am bigger than you.”
Socrates, unfazed, nevertheless had to raise his eyebrow to find the head of the Giraffe above the canopy of the Acacia and he replied,
“Tallneck, you know, it really depends which way you look at it.”
At that moment a small ant known by the name of ‘Furmiga’ piped up so that both the ‘big ones’ heard it and said, “I am also the biggest, the biggest of the smallest.”

In the meanwhile God, on his journey through existence, had come by and was resting on a tree stump, listening to this conversation of who was the biggest.
He decided to clarify the situation as it had in the past caused heated arguments and fearsome demonstrations of power.
“I made some of you big so you can see the small things and I made some of you small so you can see the big things. But you are all as important as a raindrop.”

Tallneck respectfully thought about that and felt that a raindrop hardly stated her importance.
Socrates sunk even deeper into thought searching for the meaning of God’s words.
Furmiga was satisfied with the idea, because after all a raindrop was quite a bit larger than she was.

God rose from his tree stump, and as he walked away his big feet stirred up some of the fine dust and he sneezed so vigorously that the clouds gathered overhead and rain started pelting down.
Tallneck, with her head stuck above the Acacia, felt each raindrop as it pricked her face. Looking at the dust bowl God had just walked through she saw it filling up with fresh clear water as each raindrop added its importance. Fascinated she watched the sparkling pearls as the light broke into prisms of colour and then splash up in a silver spray in the little pool.
Socrates felt each transparent bead miraculously cooling him down as his hide absorbed the water turning from a dull grey to a glistening black. He realised that if it weren’t for each single drop from the sky he could not survive. In gratitude he reached upwards with his trunk opening it towards the sky.
Furmiga knew that with each important drop the dust and sand came alive in another miracle and she and her clan could eat and drink.

Next time I see a raindrop I know a blessing is on its way.

by

my breath was everywhere

I was a dove.
A white dove flying through a dark valley on the edge of my memory. The silhouette of my past abruptly ended with the light of the horizon of my future.
My journey was from the narrow shadow land towards the blue sky of my freedom.
I flew. That is all I ever knew how to do. My flying was like your walking. But I had to fly, I could not walk.
All I had to do to fly was breathe. With every breath I stayed aloft another time. That’s all it took.
First there was hardly any light at all as the valley walls towered above me and I was dwarfed by their rugged strength and enormous presence.
Beyond, it seemed, was more darkness with faint lights so distant I feared never to touch them.
As I sat and watched I remembered a time gone by that was even darker than no lights or sunshine.

I felt the break of dawn.
A clear line was emerging between my past and the present, unfolding with every breath.
My spirit lifted. My soul prepared for flight. My body breathed a deep breath and floated into nothing.
Slowly, the little dot that I was, gained height and I flew in the ‘V’ of the valley towards a light that magically attracted me.
I knew not what was beyond the ‘V’ but light, and the only way to get there was for me to fly.
I took a deep breath of imagination and cleared the rim of the valley into the blue nothing.
Suddenly there were no walls, no cliffs and no more ‘V’ that I had to carefully navigate in.
For the first time I could fly unobstructed as I left the valley behind.
I filled my head with golden views. I breathed the air of infinite beauty. I soared and dived and tumbled. I floated, rose and merged with all of nothing.
I knew suddenly that my breath was everywhere and I was in every breath.

by

align & cure the stuck

I am stuck.

Stuck in the mud with my 4X4. Stuck on the runway with my aeroplane. Stuck with these friends. Stuck in my life. Everything is stuck, stuck, stuck.
I am stuck in my circumstances.
The circumstances that I can be stuck in are endless. Stuck taking drugs. Stuck drinking. Stuck in this town. Stuck in this job. Stuck in a relationship.

I could be stuck for the rest of my life. Without a vision, no more dream, – nothing. Hopelessly stuck.
There are many pictures of stuck-ness. We have all seen them. We have all wondered and we had no answer either.
And, you can’t really help unless that spark to want to get unstuck exists within. Unless the will to change and make a different choice is there.

As always I can only talk for myself and what I have observed and experienced.
I have been horribly, super-glue like stuck. Not just for a moment or a while, no, for years of my life. You feel like you are stuck in a rubber cell because no matter how much you fight and rant and rave, absolutely nothing, nada, zilch happens. You stay stuck and you think the devil is having fun watching you and you can’t beat the devil and get unstuck. It’s a terrible experience. Being stuck means the energy flow of my life is severely restricted. When I am stuck I seem to make it even worse by denying, resisting and ignoring what I really should be doing.

Why am I stuck?
I am stuck because I am contrary to the flow. I am like a log wedged across the flow of the river.
If water flows and air flows then it is likely that our life also flows, – or should flow.
If it doesn’t then I am out of alignment with the flow of my life.
Yes of course I can blame everything and anything from my childhood to my boss and the government and God for my stuck-ness, but that doesn’t unstick me. I have to do something.
Because as human beings we are quite resourceful at adjusting to circumstances, we sometimes don’t even see this misalignment that obstructs our life’s flow. It might take quite a while until we start thinking, “Heck this is not going the way it was intended to.” Perhaps we have even accepted the contorted flow of our life. We might have even ended up on a trickle of what used to be our stream and we still find some reason why it should be like this and not like the river we have left.

After enough self-pity, finally, sometime, I acknowledge that I am stuck. I suddenly know it and I want to change it.
Now I see myself unstuck. I feel unstuck and I consciously Align. I re-align. My vision is filled with the flow of my life in the stream of my choice to the goal of my dream.

Alignment is non resistance. In alignment things roll and flow. In alignment I can achieve. In alignment I can be and I am.