You are Devine

 The sheepdogs of fear herd us to compliance.

We are encouraged, to become puppets

in the play-gue of the power hungry.

Devide and conquer.

Easy pickings.

Stand strong in your truth.

The gateway to everlasting health is a misnomer my friend.

We are mortal here in this dimension,

no matter who, no matter what.

Come to terms with death, before you're forced to hold it's hand,

as it will be part of your journey.

Don't sell your soul to save the body and loose an everlasting gift of freedom.

Stand victoriously on the shoulders of wisdom.

Be still and know that you are devine,

and part of God the source of all dimensions,

the true everlasting source of love and peace.

We believe that we will be tested -

this is it my friend, this is it.

MgM (C)

Haiku

 Prawns hide under rock
Pelican carries a full crop
A flash in the pan
∞

(A Field of Wheat)
Rich, a full harvest
Hot wind drying the kernels
Fire waits in the wings
∞

Dinner time at home
Hiding under the table
Legs with loud voices
∞

There's rain a cumin'
Dust quivers in anticipation,
Clouds grumble gently
∞

Dishonest honey
Tug on a man's heart strings
Sickly sweet smile
∞

The cold creeps closer,
stalking the warmth of the fire.
Melt my heart, you thug.
∞

(Shaming)
Preaching from on high
He shames us into silence,
tight lipped smiles, we stare.
∞

(Pride)
Stable door opens
revealing a squeaky hinge.
Vulnerability sucks.

∞

The builders Mistake
When cornice becomes cornish
Revert to context
∞

Birds on a wire
The catwalk benches are full
Bobbing grey heads chat

MgM 🕉️

The Twilight Zone

That's a good Jack', says Pete, there's a mat at her feet
and they've all gathered around on the green.
With hands on her hips and grimacing lips she sighs.
'No, left! ', 'No, right!", '....and a little bit more', and 'that's perfect', they all decide. 
Everyone nods and up comes number one, and the skip looks on from the side. 

'Nice line', he says and scratches his head as Ruby come up off one knee. 

We all stretch our necks and shout 'curl, curl, curl', as the guys hope it lands in the furrow. 

Now it's you, number two, with a delicate shuffle Gill checks her wood for the bias. 

A collective sigh as her hand leaves her thigh, 'it's good! Keep it up, we've got this! '

Laurie is up as Peter looks down and shows him just how wide. 

'A good one, it's close', as the exhausted wood, slows down and lies on its side. 

Who will win, we cannot say 'cause Daugie has yet to bowl. 

We bite our lips, 'it hasn't got legs'

but Pete says, 'we'll have to measure'. 

See

 The sea is green and the clouds are blue,
the sea birds are eating muffins,
and the children are sniffing glue.

Waves washed up papers from across the bay.
Remember the bluebottles of yesterday?

There's still a beauty all things aside,
The wind is still free and see, so is the tide.

Julia's Wisdom

Your words lingered around my ears

long after they left you.

In a dark and tossing slumber those spontaneous syllables

became fireflies gently hovering around my ears

looking for a way in, long enough to wake me gently,

eager to illuminate.

On the Catwalk

Strung like pearls on a waxed thread,

we sit in order of attendance,

soaking up the sun.

Come and dive at Daugie's spot,

the favorite high-tide rock

and Louise will always be there.

Net-swimmers don gear for speed -

we watch the daily ritual.

Spit on goggles, rubber caps slap,

not scared of big white's trap.

Quiz and question testing tension,

wisdom comes with age.

Gather 'round the elders sound,

this is where it happens.

On the catwalk.

Thank you Cancer

Only when my body is stripped of me do I realise that
I don't need my hair to define me.
My breasts don't make me MORE of a woman
Aching for the loss of my drum between my knees
my heart now beats loudly in its place

Scabs of my old identity fall away
as I break through the old skin
Emerging raw and newly liberated

There are revelations that only live in the darkness of a cave. 
Go in, the gems are in the far end, they shine there in the darkest place.

After

I think it’s safe to say I’ll never be the same again
You can’t call me your bosom buddy now
When you hug me, I’ll be closer than ever before.

I can truly say, “I laughed my tits off”
but would I be able to go topless on the beach?

When there’s nothing to see, people look all the harder
to find what should be there.

I could say I’m transitioning but I’d hate to insult those who are,
and the truth is evident in my soft round bum and dimpled thighs
– my pink nail polish.

Franki says that after 50 the wheels start falling off
- I just lost my headlights - nothing is guaranteed.

I don’t feel diminished which is a surprise.
Liberation comes only after oppression.

No man will look at my cleavage and proposition me again
but when dealing with a lovely guy, I still get a glint in my eye.

Not fitting into one of the boxes could be an interesting space to explore
when transitioning, some things say goodbye...

The butterfly spirit animal is one of the most symbolic animals that's associated with personal transformation

Magnolias symbolized dignity and nobility. In ancient China, magnolias were thought to be the perfect symbols of womanly beauty and gentleness.

Mandala is a spiritual and ritual symbol in Hinduism and Buddhism, representing the universe. The circular designs symbolizes the idea that life is never ending and everything is connected. The mandala also represents spiritual journey within the individual viewer.

A hummingbird flying reminds us to enjoy life and simple pleasures. Like the tiny bird seeking the flowers' nectar, we should be looking at what's good in life. ... This is why the hummingbird symbol is associated with endurance and perseverance.

MgM (c)

Ready, Steady, Go

 

A supportive slumber with my daughter’s warm body in my bed, quietly aware.
When the alarm sounds, I am relieved.
Last zip and shoes, a studious checking of taps and plugs.
Where to find my will – I left it on top – just in case.

A quiet drive to the nuclear lab, for a jab, on the slab.
This nurse will be the last one to ever hold my nipple between her fingers – I tell her so.
She smiles and lifts the blue syringe. Next stop, the chop-shop.
My passwords – write them down – just in case.

The bed, the blue gown, little tv and little cupboard.
As my daughter unzips the bag, a ripple of panic crashes over my head.
I’ll walk out of here very fast, then run until I’m far away.
So hold onto to me while I cry.
Tell the boys I love them – just in case.

We lie side by side on the bed watching a silent screen.
A tall dark and broadly smiling porter steps around the curtain to fetch me.
It must be black Tuesday he says, 2 for the price of 1.
A smooth ride on trolley wheels. The surgeon smiles and draws on me with a blue koki.
We look into each other’s eyes and we nod, tears streaming,
Stay close by, I say – just in case.

Post op                                                                                                           

I wake under a warm thick blanket.
I remember before, so this, must be “after” -
My daughter Danny says, Hi Mom.
I pour my relief into her eyes.
There is no pain.
I feel strangely liberated, expansive and everything looks so clear!
Maybe that’s why they call it “high”?
I sit up and swing my legs off the bed.
As my feet touch the floor there’s a tug on my ribs.
Two soft pink orbs just larger than eggs drop between my thighs.
I look down and smile at the irony of it all
With a grin, I turned to my daughter, I start giggling
‘Will you hold my balls while I pee?”.
My Firstborn William says
I shouldn’t share these under the belt jokes with my surgeon.
Ok, I say with a wild grin.
'Dr. Dr., What did the one boob say to the other?
Yeah you’re right – nothing!'
I think it’s funny. He wasn’t so sure, bless him.
I went through a very tight and dark tunnel
and burst out the other side,
into the bright side of life where it seems you don’t need them.
My son Joseph says, that’s how life works sometimes.

Reality Check

The reality stalks me in the middle of the night.
I’m sick to my stomach with a sense of loss.
I sit on the edge of my bed, doubled over.

I’m on a cliff, looking down into a blackened ravine,
rocking there for a while.
I lift my face to the large grey moon and howl.

From deep within I howl.
Deep and long the cries express my fearful heart.
Deep and long I howl.

It’s nearly time, and how will “after” be?

Let’s get it over with.
To amputate these much loved bits of me.

MgM ©

The last Weekend

On this the last weekend with my breasts,
I think I’ll take them for a walk.

Feeling how they move with every step.
I’ll take them for a last swim in the tidal pool,
nipples gasping in the cold water.

Breasts float when you lie on your back in the bath,
and they fill to fit in a lovers’ hand.

The last weekend with my breasts
will be a sad one, a saying goodbye one.

Once proud and ripe they fed my babies.
I’ve enjoyed my breasts, these life-giving miracles.
Orbs of warmth and glory, Soft and nurturing.

They know their power to entice or to disarm.
Where will that power go? when I lose them.

MgM ©

Breast Burial

Where will my breasts go

when they are severed?

Is there a tit pile?

or a small cemetery

where breast angels,

mismatched toxic throwaways,

pair up and dance?

My two warm breasts

in a cold kidney dish,

already in breast heaven.

They probably bin them.

Human waste.

How long can I grieve?

 

MgM©

Mammogram

 I take off the gown

and watch her eyes

flit across my chest.

I have my answer already.

She has seen it all before.

A little widening of the lids,

a deep breath

and as her lips pucker to speak

I put her out of her misery

and say, It’s ok, I think I know.

I probably should have come sooner?

but, I had not the courage then.

Please don’t judge me.

I am here now.

 

MgM ©

Toxic Breast

My boob has turned against me
and split on the team.
There’s mutiny on the mothership
And now it holds me ransom.

Do I cut it loose
Lest it poison the host?

Or can I live symbiotically
With a toxic part of me?

A backstabbing potential traitor,
a sponge of stored up regret
and heartache.

Have I infected myself?

MgM©

Middernag Vraag

Somige dae praat ek kak

Dan gaan sit ek dit nog op facebook
Dit gaan gewoonlik oor twee dinge

Een is
Dat ek nie iemand het wat my lief het nie,

en die ander
is dat ek dalk dit gevind het….
Iemand wat my kan lief he
…en toe is dit nie so nie

Dan gaan vra ek die spieel
vir ‘n antwoordt
met ‘n sker in my hand
en kap aan my hare

The Heart of the Moon

A supreme queen, this grand matriarch of the sky
casts her net of luminous love over her spherical charge.
Trillions of webbed filaments held by her rapt attention,
commanding the vibrant water spirits as they strain and leap ahead,
she draws them back patiently time and again,
disciplining the tides.

When we see her in her fullness, we gasp at her beauty –
She holds nothing back, unconditional, she encourages us to do the same.
Her face beams down at us through our brittle panes, vigilant, as we sleep.
Precious maidens, initiated to new status, hale her and join hands in a circular dance
celebrating fertility, ripe as summer fruit -
Virile men howl with upturned faces an unexplained emotion.

As a waning shadow passes across her face
she blushes and hints a playful peek-a-boo while waltzing with grandfather sun.
There’s a hard edge to it – turning her attention to the other side.
The cusp stays sharp, but soon we see the smile,
which reminds us that she’ll be back
- and then she’s gone – and taken our night light!

These new, dark nights, invoke introspection.
Opening our mouths we take deep gulping breaths of cold hard clarity.
In her generous wisdom our teacher leaves us with a blank canvas.
Appreciating the chance to start again, we throw our sins into a dark tied back sea.
We scrub and clean and count our blessings
until she waxes in the night sky, as dependable as a mother’s promise.

MgM ©

Sea Bath

I watched as he dug deep
into his rugsack
to fetch his bottle
and soap his dry body
before walking toward the sea
with a sticky head
he scrubbed and washed
in the icy waves
long before dawn
to escape the scorn
of many a lot luckier than he
they who come clean
to frolick in the sea

My life is a pond

My life is a pond.

A seemingly unruffled surface
the prettiness of lilies atop,
with open sunbathing smiles
which respond to a welcome sun.

They hide the roots that anchor in the rocks
and rotten leaves, that lie sodden and sullen,
waiting to become food for fish.
Memories of yesterdays tree.

An ever changing cycle,
at night the flowers close and sleep
as stars take their turn to shine.

I lie on the life giving bed of fermentation
under water, looking up through my hopes and fears
that distort a miraculous sky.

I wonder at their purpose - surely not only to dance and shine?

and as the night-shift bids me well and the stars wave me goodbye,
I realise that they gave me hope while the sun was busy elsewhere.

MgM ©

The Yarn

A tight knit family,
A presentable façade.
The beautiful garment
held together by secrets
and social norms,
starts to unravel
from a broken place,
until the structure lies
at ones feet
in a heap,
of tangled memories.
It lies there
until you can grasp
the end of it,
which becomes
a new beginning.
Weaving
a new blanky,
to cover
your exposed knees,
using the same
old yarn.

MgM (c)

LIFE (According to me)

Each of us is a spiritual being

given a body to inhabit through life
In the beginning it’s new and we get to grips
With the gears and controls of balance and speed.
Depending on what attributes we have been given
We steer our way accordingly through education and sport,
Winning and losing, laughing and crying, we learn how to cope or not to.
We are taught to win and to get ahead and set a higher goal.
Bigger is better and faster is fine, and media coverage certainly makes you shine.
Some do it alone and others find partners and even add kids to the team
On and on we go, with our lives in tow and the pile on the wagon grows
The cycle continues as the dependants leave and each has a family of their own
Twenty-four thousand days is the time allotted to gather as much as you can
The very next day you get to stop doing what you’ve known for 65 years,
“Lucky you” they say, “you have arrived”. You get to stay home and potter.
As long as we’ve remembered that spirit is key and the importance of loving ‘me’
Then we’ll be kind to those around us, ’cause we know we’re all the same
The spirit is strong and will finally rise when the flesh is too weak and it falls
So be slow to judge the failing flesh or the look of the lavishly pampered
look deep into another’s eyes to the heart, deep in the depths of the soul
that’s where the roots of a smile are buried
that’s where the treasure lies

MgMusings ©

Finding your voice.....Emerging from apathy

Kyk Op

Daars kak in die water
ons swem teen die stroom
kom uit kom boontoe
skep asem en droom
glo in die liefde
soek vir die goed
kyk op en kyk boontoe
skep 'n bietjie moed
kom ons sing
kom ons dans
vir die wylige kans
dat dit waar is
ons kry nog 'n kans
wees mooi met mekaar
voordat iemand jou vra
die dag wat jy val
sal 'n ander jou dra

MgMusings

Lover

There’s something to be said
for a head in the bed
with a body
under millions of feathers.
Mind slips away for a moment
to stray in a dream filled with
smiling boaters.
They’re happy and gay
waving streamers that say,
'we’re alive!
we are free and untethered'.
Open your hand
watch the colourful strands
dance away on the wind
toward heaven.
Wake with a start
and a song in your heart
see that the new day has risen.

MgM ©

Be

No matter where you go
-you’re home- 

No matter how you hide
-you’re seen-

No matter how tightly bound you feel
-you’re free- 

No matter how you look
-you’re loved- 

No matter what you say
-you’re heard- 

You are enough

Be You

Choices

A circling spiral curls slowly,
creating a cylindrical spring potential for some ”thing”.
A happening.
A good thing, or a bad thing,
an energetic thing.
Come what may it’ll have its’ way.
Let it be good, let it be kind, let it be noble.
A circling spiral curls slowly
creating a cylindrical spring, potential for some ”thing”.
A feeling thing, full of love or full of fear.
An emotional thing.
Come what may, let it have its’ way.
Let it be love.
Allow it to draw you near.
Embrace.

MgM ©

Flying away

Sitting in the nick
of time, shooting the breeze
drifts over yonder, come back
in the day I had a dime
in the hand, worth five, in the bush
where the buffalo's roam, free
as a bird, on the wing
of a prayer - the dove,
 a promise of peace
on earth, love, beauty
and the beast.

 Slain is the dragon
as he lies panting after me
and I loosen my shackles
fall heavily to ground and I fly.
I fly and fly
and fly.

Trust

I feel as if I’m on a witch’s hat
circling up and down and that,
come what may the feeling lingers.
Open bodice ties all loose,
trying to catch them in the wind
to tie them tight against my skin.
Wind howls through me,
nothing left.
Ego, pride and open chest,
I’m trying to gather up my pieces.
The angels tell me
let them rest,
stay the drifting unsure state.
This is change,
a whole new you -
trust fall into space anew.

Girl Power (for the empowering of young adolescent ladies re: HIV in SA)

Take your hand off my butt

you're invading my strutt

who said you were an explorer

Don't touch me like that

have respect for my fat

I could even be your sister

you ask me once
you ask me nice
this naledi belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you play with hiv

I know what you want

if I have to be blunt

you'll need a plastic cover

play it safe, play it cool

don't be a fool

maybe then you could be my lover

you ask me once
you ask me nice
my sexy belongs to me
ignore me once
ignore me twice
you're ignoring hiv

it's mine to give

you leave it alone

it's my essence!

my virtue !

my power!

if you don't understand

this "own choice" brand

then go and ask your mother

to hold her 

is to have her

you can get down on your knee

when ma trick (matric) is over

then come back and talk to she

you ask me once

you ask me nice

and then you listen to me

ignore me once

ignore me twice

don't give me hiv

MgM (c)

Emerging from Apathy

(cc8)

I would like to share my story with you tonight.
Emerging from apathy.
Becoming the author of my own life story.
Taking responsibility for my outcome…

18 years ago I woke up in the morning to a hormone tablet, a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

I popped my Prozac anti depressant and after breakfast had my nexium for a bleeding ulcer. I had a migraine injection in my bag for just in case.

By twelve o’clock I was thinking of a glass or two of wine and by 4pm it was whiskey.

I was like a yo-yo.
When I was up I was flying…. Loud and obnoxious. When down I was a melancholic mess.

When someone asked what I did over the weekend, it was easy.

Gin and Tonic.

A little light started flickering in my mind.

Maybe I needed help?

The Psychiatrist was as heavy as a wet sack - soaked full of sticky secrets.

His face was blank and unresponsive as he listened.

His arm worked separately from his still body as it burrowed deeply into his pocket unwrapping hidden sweets. His hand came up to his mouth hiding the treat and each time the entry was disguised with a little cough.

His eyes started flicking quick looks at the clock and I realised my time was probably up. I slowed down my rant and he nodded slowly pulling the prescription pad closer.

“I’m going to give you a little something to help you cope”
More medication!

Thank you but no, I think I was self medicating quite adequately….

I was looking for something, but it wasn’t a bottle of pills.

I decided to see a psychologist, someone who couldn’t write me a script.

He was such a sweet man. He smiled and um’d and ah’d. He shook his head and put his hands to his mouth in disbelief.

5 minutes before the end of the session he saids that it would be good to see me again in a weeks time to hear more of this unbelievable story.
Even though I got the feeling he didn't believe me, I went back 5 more times to get the same words……I needed a solution….where was my golden ticket?
Why didn’t he give me a solution to my dilemma?

My pastor at the church told me to pray…. even harder.

My partner said I should have a drink.

My recurring nightmare at the time.

I was on a bicycle with a carrier attached. I had my 3 children with me all perched in some way on the bike. I was riding in the night on the sand road towards town but I never got there. I turned back to the farm and kept riding balancing the children but after what seemed like an age I never got to the farm either and turned around to get to town…and on and on it went…I felt completely lost.

I decided to change tack and made an appointment to see a Cognitive Therapist in Cape Town and this time a woman.

Within 5 minutes I realised that she believed me and that she was angry for me and she gave me a mental tool to use which started my rising up out of the apathy that had dragged me for years.

She asked me what the name of my book was…..my life story.

She said that I could be anything I wanted to be. Good, bad or ugly.

“Fee state woman becomes rich and famous!” I was happy with that.

I mean, isn’t that what we all want? No no, not to live in the Free State for goodness sake but rich and famous, the golden state of happiness.

She then asked me who writes in my book, who holds the pen?

Who holds your pen?

With that pen I had to make a list of all that I had lost and start claiming each little thing back that was “me”.

Which music did I play?

What food did I like?
Was I pressurised to be what I wasn't?
Where did I need to take back control?

Was I dressed for someone else or for myself?

Did I react out of myself or for the benefit of another?

And the list went on and on as she gave me clues of what to look for.

I never went back to see her…..this was my golden ticket.......this tool was enough to set me on a road to recovery one day at a time.

So I ask you to think on this question. What is the title of your book?
Who holds your pen?

It would still take me 10 years to reach a solution and freedom but this was the first step.

10 years later my title read….

“Free woman arrives in Pretoria in a state, tightly clutching her pen”

The Uncarved Block......cc9

I would like to persuade you tonight to stop thinking.

Yes, that's what I said.....to stop thinking.

In the fast moving world of internet, wi-fi, instant messaging and media, this seems crazy. We must keep up, not so?

For a few moments have a look at the uncarved block and clear your mind. *holding up a wooden block*
I have no intention of asking you to empty your mind, instead to FOCUS on this uncarved block.

This block is simple, plain, natural and honest.

The uncarved block represents the idea that things in their original simplicity contain their own natural power which is spoiled when the simplicity of the thing is changed.

In the simplicity lies the power and rising out of that, wisdom.

Think of the spokes of a wheel converging onto the small emtpy center, where the axle fits to hold the whole cart.
Think of a lump of clay that forms a bowl with the empty space being the very thing that makes the bowl useful.
Think of a window frame that holds an open space for light to shine through.

The chinese word for simple, plain, natural and honest is P'u.
Just simply "P'u".

In Benjamin Hoff's book Tao of Pooh, Winnie the pooh is the epitomy of the uncarved block. He is simple and honest, joyful, fun and spontaneous. He is simple-minded but not stupid and from this state of simplicity he accomplishes much.

The thinkers in the story are Eeyore, Rabbit and Owl.
Eeyore accumulates knowledge to be able to complain about something. The "attitude of Eeyore" is a fretful one.
Clever Rabbit accumulates knowledge in the attempt to seem more clever. He tried to oust Kanga and Roo from the forest on the grounds that they were different. Fortunately cleverness has it's limitations and he had to change his mind. Cleverness tends to ignore the reality of "what is".
Owl accumulates knowledge for the sake of appearing wise. He learns intellectually. He compartmentalizes, categorizes and pontificates. He writes long theses about things we don't understand and pretentious papers with very big words. If you look closely at Owls life then you'll see it's a bit of a shambles, helpless and somewhat disorganised.

When the thinkers want to show off their accumulates knowledge they use the uncarved block as their canvas. Accumulated knowledge shows up better when talking with a simple-minded person, not so?

I'll give you an illustration.

Pooh, Owl, Rabbit, Piglet, Kanga, Roo and Eeyore were all just sitting around when Clever Rabbit piped up, "hey Pooh?, do you even know how to spell Tuesday?". Pooh simply looked at him. Owl knew and was excited to say pompously, "Yes of course everyone knows how to spell Tuesday!", "You spell it with a two because it's the second day. Twosday! and of course the next day is Thirdsday!", looking down at Pooh.
Pooh looked simply from one to the next and said, "but today is the day after Tuesday and it's not Thirdsday, I mean Thursday" Piglet piped up and said "It's today!" Pooh agreed and said "Yes! my favourite day!"

The uncarved block is the most important principal for the Chinese philosophy Taoism which is based on the writings of Lao Tzu who wrote the Tao Teh Ching.

The picture of the Vinegar Tasters tells the story.

Three wise men all with their fingers in a pot of vinegar. One with a sour look on his face the other with a bitter look on his face and the third smiling widely.
The vinegar in the pot is the essence of life itself.
The smiling man is Lao Tzu. He believes that we can change "what is" by having an appreciative attitude and accepting the nature of things as they are.
When the mind gets in the way and interferes with "what is" with arrogance and non-appreciation then it makes us bitter and sour.

Everything has a place and function. fish don't fly and birds don't swim. You cannot put a square peg into a round hole.

From the state of the uncarved block comes the ability to enjoy the simple and the quiet and in that stillness wisdom arises. When you respect your Inner Nature then you know where you belong.
You'll see your life causing an effect without doing. (Wu Wei)
You'll begin to live without effort, like water flowing around rocks.

Simple.
Plain.
Natural.
Honest.

********************************

references.....The Tao of Pooh....Benjamin Hoff.
Tao Teh Ching.....Lao Tzu

I had a lucid dream

My daughter is 27  and I often remark that I should be wearing a WWDD band around my arm. "What would Danny do?" She's often got a very clear wise word and has always struck me as an old soul.

Waking up this morning, but not quite, I always smile to be in a lucid dream.

"I was at a bazaar or at a church fete or a Saturday market of sorts.
I had the kids with me and they were roaming around with their own pocket money and friends, enjoying the freedom to do their own thing. Danny was 10.

I passed a very smart woman with her daughters. They were dressed up in shining clothes and heels. The little girls had makeup on and their hair was sprayed and teassed. I overheard the daughter asking if they would be able to get botox at the market, on her ears because they were sticking out. She stroked her ears gently. I was thinking "what had the world come to?"

I passed Danny every now and then and she gave me a big grin. Her legs striding confidently and her hair long and loose and scruffy. She had on her jodpurs and clunky riding boots. Ice cream in hand, some around her mouth and a balloon on a helium string.
Passing her again I approached as she turned to point her last two inches of cone at me. I walked up to her and had a look. She had scratched out HI on the top of the flattened ice cream in the half eaten cone.
I had chuckle as she bit into the cone and so the greeting disappeared.

As I watched her strut away I wondered at her confidence and safety. I decided to follow her awhile.
I watched as she sat herself down on a bench swinging her feet gently.
A man approached.
He sat down next to her.
I was alert.
He spoke to her and she replied calmly in what seemed to be a long explanation.
He nodded, put some money in her hand and left. She smiled.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I was even more alert.
Another man came and sat down beside her and the same thing happened.
I watched as a few people came and left her and they seemed happier even after putting some money into her hand, which she stuffed into her pocket nonchalantly.
Swinging her boot clad feet gently.
I asked one of the people what was happening at the bench.
The lady smiled.
She's giving us all advice"

CC7 Sugar Rush

Mister Toastmaster, Ladies and gentlemen.
with apologies to the medical doctors in the room in case of errors in the process.

Our body needs sugar!

Now I'm sure you never thought I'd say that.

But yes, our body does need sugar. A daily recommended amount of 25g (fructose).

If you think on these foods then you may get an idea of how much sugar that may be.

A half cup of raisons, cranberrys or dates average at 50g of fructose.

A half cup of mango or prunes around 30g, while a cup of pineapple or paw paw, an apple or a banana will give you 15g.

Berries are the winners here at 10g.
So we decide to be more aware and instead of Cola....... #display cola bottle with sugar content# we buy fruit juice......... #display fruitjuice bottle with sugar content# .....(everyone in the audience should hum and haw here as I take out milk cartons, yoghurt tubs and soups with their equivalent sugar content.....)
I think I made my point. (smiling)

There is fructose in 75% of packaged foods and even in ketchup, flavored water and yoghurt.

Sugar can come as sucrose, maltose, fructose, karo syrup, corn syrup or argave nector.

The nutritional value of fructose or sugar is only carbohydrate and nothing else.

Makes me think of Rachel Vincent's comment on her blog, and I quote,
"...and the words melted like sugar on my tongue - sweet yet insubstansial..."

Sugar is produced from sugar cane and sweet beets. The raw product is boiled up and produces a thick black molasses.

The molasses is spun in a drum with a high centrifugal force and dry sugar crystals spin off. The crystals, if not rinsed are "brown sugar" and when rinsed are pure white sugar.

As we put sugar into our mouths, the taste receptors are activated and secrete saliva. Then the dopamine receptors release seratonin. For the amount of sugar we eat, we will have immediate energy. Insulin will be released to regulate the sugar levels. By the way.......Insulin strengthens the synapses in the brain which if optimal will make for better recall and a clear mind. Anyway.......Excess sugar will get stored as glycogen in the liver and will be released as the body needs it. 

So right here we can see that we don't need to interfere. 

The body has got it.

Probably long before the liver releases the glycogen into the bloodstream as "some other form of sugar the bloodstream can handle", have we reached for the next treat, "to keep us going".

I..... we, then overload on sugar, feeling really good for a short while and then that sugar dumps us. 

A feeling of sluggishness, foggy brain, depression sets in. Our tolerance level is lower and we feel "dof". (An Afrikaans slang word meaning thick or stupid)

Actually the body is struggling to process this overload. If we are sitting on the couch you can imagine that it would be far worse to put the body in such a dilemma than if we were running a marathon and the body could use the sugar immediately.

Of course the minute we feel sluggish or tired, the first thing we may reach for is a sugary treat. Here starts a cycle which becomes addictive. Years of sugar spikes and the bodies struggle to keep processing the sugar we are on the way to insulin resistance and possibly diabetes.

Jamie Oliver said, and I quote, "Sugar is the next tobacco it should be taxed like tobacco and anything else that can destroy lives".

Our next option is to go for an artificial sugar, and there are many....with brandnames

sweetex

xylitol

sweet 'n low

necta sweet

canderel

stivia (no not the green plant but the tube of fine white granules) note to self....this comment is optional :-)

nevella
diabetisweet

equal

sweet 'n "safe" #(implying?)

"nutra"sweet  #also implying? not nutritious surely!

but to name a few. 

These are "chemically produced" powders!

As soon as we taste this, we trick the taste receptors to activate, which tricks the stimulation of dopamine receptors and which in turn tricks the release of Insulin and the liver prepares to receive any excess........what?........the body is expecting sugar......I can only imagine what confusion ensues.

The Irony of this is that if we continue the sugar rush cycle and create an insulin resistance or diabetes where we have to artificially administer insulin, if we don't get the sugar when we need it, the result is possibly a diabetic coma.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would far rather try and regulate my sugar now than end up creating a nightmare.

Lets change our pallets
from sweet to bland

and when we eat an apple
it'll be all too sweet enough.

Mr. Toastmaster.

(1 1/2 minutes over time....eeeeek...8.27) 

I am here

not only do I exist but I love and I grow
not only do I exist but I give and I sow
not only do I exist but I speak and I write
not only do I exist but I blossom and show
that to hide in shame is shortlived and futile 
the day will come when the truth will be crucial
not only do I exist for the pleasure of being me
I exist to reclaim what was stolen

MgM

Torture

ah shame says he
and calls his friends
to watch a poor fly struggle
ah look how sad
he spins around
can't fly away
that's dreadful
you're so caring
they all say
but end it now
and quickly
no no he says
this is such fun
lets see
what happens next
I have his wings
in my small hand
I'll paste them back
a bit later

MgM (C)

Pierced Power

she the rabbit
soft and innocent
wants only this
to love him
he smiles on dawning
realising this
this thing we can play with
this open heart
this trust
can make an edgy game
come closer
smile
and shoot the dart
grinning at the painful start
only playing says he
come back and cuddle
holding down her foot
watching the struggle
a slice of fear
makes winning even closer
this game is fun
i'll only shave you lightly
hold her down
and shave her naked
laugh at her red face
taking hold of this her shame
that forms a hardened pin
gently smiling
strokes her head
while pushing it deep in
her heart is bleeding
search your face
for small small glimpse
of pity as she slowly dies
she lies quite still
and when it hits him
that this game is over
he stamps his foot
and cries for days
for now there's none to play with
years go by
and slowly slowly
teeth grow where soft lips kissed
life is breathed
and standing high
her softness huge and lovely
but the teeth
the size of shark fins
stand out bright and ready
he sees and hides
as bullies do
his fear
is her protection
and the power
is in the potential
but she'll hold back
she knows the trap
resisting retaliation

is victory

Coffee Snob

The relationship started at the office coffee dispenser many years ago.

It was instant.

One click of coffee.Three clicks of milk. Three clicks of sugar.

Six times a day!......into a paper cup.

Mr. Toastmaster, ladies and gentlemen,
Let me ask you this.....

If coffee is a drink made from roasted coffee beans, which are the seeds from the berries of the coffee plant, then what is instant coffee?

Instant coffee is a combination of roasted robusta beans and chicory.

Robusta beans are bitter and high in caffeine. Chicory is the root of the endive plant, which is a kind of lettuce. The chicory root is roasted and toasted and added to roasted robusta beans as a filler. Chicory masks the taste of the cheaper beans and can be used as a substitute for coffee.

The first thing that hits you when you walk into a roastery is the smell.
The gloriously rich smell of freshly roasted coffee beans.
The full hessian coffee bags with labels from countries all over the world are piled up and ready to process.

The ladies at the roastery were very proud of the 100% arabica status and explained to me....

Robusta beans are a lot cheaper to farm than arabica beans. Apparently they taste like burnt tyres and are repellant to insects. Robusta beans are used as a filler to add to the arabica beans to bulk up the coffee and popular with an Italian blend for the high caffeine content. The arabica bean has 1.5% caffeine to the robusta bean's 2.7% caffeine. Arabica beans have more lipids (oils) and more sugar and are more costly to farm.

I left with a plunger and a few bags of ground coffee - 100% arabica of course!

A few more visits to the roastery and I wanted that smell in my house.

So, I left with a packet of beans, to buy myself a grinder.

There are two options, a blade grinder and a burr mill grinder.
The blade grinder has basically no respect for the coffee bean whatsoever.
The blade chops wildly and ungraciously at the coffee bean, slashing it in the most irreverend and unholy way.
A burr mill grinder on the other hand wraps around the bean drawing it into itself, breaking them passionately and evenly. The beans are bruised and crushed to your perfect setting.

Of course......
I bought a burr mill grinder for better flavor and even grinding.

Have you noticed that the selection of coffees in a restaurant is much greater than years gone by and is almost as long as the wine list?

The man (or woman) driving the espresso machine is the barista. (from the Italian "barman")

Espresso, double espresso, compressed espresso each with an appropriately delicious name.
The well loved cappuccino with foam or steamed milk, a milky latte, add heavy cream or whipped cream, condensed milk and ice cream.....not to mention the moccas' which include chocolate and then the coffees with alcohol...the combinations are wonderful and many.

The barista my friend, can also give you a "black eye"!
He would prepare you a regular black coffee topped with a double espresso.
....and if that doesn't wake you up then nothing will.

He regulates the temperature of the water, which is forced, under pressure, through the perfectly packed coffee.
He also creates your foam art.
At first there were only ferns.
After a while we had hearts.
Then there were faces and landscapes, cats and dogs, monkeys and planets.
This art can be seen all over the social media of facebook and twitter to pinterest and instagram.
Put up your hands anyone who HASN'T posted foam art somewhere.

Today I am more in love than ever..... from the first attraction at the instant coffee dispenser many years ago, to today and when a waiter approaches me.....I know exactly what I want.

Please darling,
it's an americano black.
No milk.
No sugar.

.....and that's that!


MgM (c)

Snakes Alive! Dead? or Shed. (CC6)

How would you react to hearing the word "Snake"?
I see some shudders and some scowls. Gooseflesh?

How would you react to seeing a snake.

Jump and scream out loud or take tiny mincing steps in reverse?
You could well be very excited and even be filled with a sense of joy.

What would you do?
Try and beat it to death or let it go on it's way?

On the farm I had to discourage the gardener from flattening a snake so flat from top to toe that you could use it as a tie.
There would be loud gesticulating and pointing as I drove in the driveway and there it was hanging on the fence.

My children loved snakes and kept them for many years.
Pythons, skaapstekers, brown house, mole snakes, redlips and anacondas all passed through their hands.
They would be delighted to see a snake and expectant if a rock was upturned to find slithering treasure.
They had a bag which looked like a windsock attached to a broomstick and would present the dark hole to an escaping snake. The snake would inevitably seek refuge there and they "had it in the bag" so to speak.
Bringing boys home from school on a visiting weekend would produce tied socks inhabited by wriggling pets. I would often have to free wheel down van Reenen's pass while they located the escaped reptile.

I started off being very fearful of snakes, got used to them, realising that they were an important part of the eco system and of maintaining balance.

I recently moved house and went into the shed to find white paint. I was rummaging around moving boxes and pulling away old carpets, saw a snakeskin, thought, "how cool", carried on rummaging and........the penny dropped!
A snakeskin.
So I froze.
Except for goosebumps covering my whole body I was very still.
My eyeballs scanned left to right, up and down as my body stayed in perched position.
I very slowly started to reverse and at the door shouted out loudly, "Is there a snake in here?"
I listened and definitely heard a rustling.
I wasn't sure why I thought the snake would understand the question but obviously some parts of the brain don't function as they should all the time. I shouted out the question again and again I heard the rustling.

I phoned a friend who was thankfully close by and he arrived with boots, goggles, gloves, the snake pole and a bag.

We carefully packed out the shed, keeping our eyes peeled until the shed was empty.
There was no snake.
I was more than a little embarrassed but packed everything back and bought the man a six pack of beer.

My first encounter with a snake was the biblical version which of course was deceptive, evil and cursed.

Historically snakes represent fertility or a creative life force.

A snake is a very good mother.

In Jeremy Narby's book Cosmic Serpent the DNA strands are depicted by snakes as the "origins of knowledge". This would fit in with Amazonian Shamanic ceremony where the snake represents the mother energy and is wise, supportive and knowledgeable. The snake represents regeneration and healing.

I would encourage you next time you hear the word snake or see a snake to realise it's importance and the fact that it has no concern with you.

Let the snake pass to live another day.

I will also allow the snake, if and when it appears to stay in my shed.

Snap, Crackle and Pop (CC4)

Mr. Toastmaster.
Ladies and Gentlemen.

The first silent movie started with snap, crackle and a very loong silence. A silence of under a minute.
Without sound how are we supposed to know when to be scared?
Without sound how are we supposed to know when the great white shark is close?

The silent movie era was roughly between the years 1920 - 1929. The pre-dialogue era. A black and white movie with or without sound, some sound effects and sometimes piano accompaniment.
* Charlie Chaplin in "City Lights" screened with sound effects.
* "Earth", a carnal drama about birth and death was popular. How, I wonder, does one hear a murder without a scream? Imagine a death without wailing.
* Orson Welles's "The General" was an hilarious comedy but imagine a "slap" without a sound and you try and loud with out making a sound.
* Mention "The passion of Joan of Arc" and a picture is formed of a blazing pire but without sound seems to lose it's heat.
A solo pianist was often employed and a good one would be able to synchronize a crashing chord with the jalopy falling off the edge of a steep cliff. Harpo Marx had the shortest career as a solo pianist for silent movies. He lasted all of 2 weeks with his 2 songs. He would rotate through the pieces, one, a waltz, throughout the movie. Slowing down at sad parts, speeding up for action. Louder for anger and softer for romance. A good band would supply music appropriate for tension, romance and thrills. The percussionist had a "toy counter" to create effects of gunshots and church bells. A sharp pluck on the high string of a harp could create an icy backdrop and a strum on the Cello, a macabre and gloomy feel.

The first popular technicolor movie was in 1939. The Wizard of Oz was the latest and the first success story. A 3-strip movie where 3 films were played through the camera at the same time. One held all the Red, another the green and another the blue color. The camera was large, loud and expensive. Gone with the wind another and better so for how does one blush in black and white?

Do you remember the home movies in the 60's? The huge projector with the massive reels of film. There again the loading and "lights!" and snap, crackle and heaven......a full length color film in the comfort of your own home. The whirring and clicking throughout was ignored and at some stage the film would burn and flap around on the reel. After splicing and taping, which we called "interval", the movie would continue......and we had popcorn.

The drive-in in those years, with the undulating tarred mounds and sound poles is almost forgotten. The smell of boerewors and boiled eggs in a car full of kids.

In around 2002 Imax the surround sound mega movie came to South Africa. The first Imax was screened in the Japanese '70's expo. We first saw Apolla 13 and Star Wars in this way and the aim was to see more, hear more and feel more. The screen is 4500 times bigger than the average tv, 8 storeys high with 16 amplifiers and 44 speakers.

By 2006 the cinemas were replacing film reel with digital and in 2007 3D was screened by SterKinekor. The biggest was the epic movie Avatar. 3D motion picture enhanced the illusion of depth perception and an arm reaching out would seem to "grab" you.

In 2016 I saw the very amazing and latest in viewing pleasure "Star Wars- reawakening of the Force" in Imax 3D. Battlestar Galactica came so close that I had to shift away. The droids passed so close to the side of my head, I could almost feel my hair move. The battleships flew right over and I had to duck.

....but wait there's more. Coming to us in time and already in the USA is 4Dx with "environmental effects" like seat motion, wind, fog and rain. You will also be able to smell the roses and the bagels.

Now we will be able to See more, hear more, feel more and smell more with every snap, every crack, every pin drop and every pop.

The truth seeks the light....and Karma still applies (CC3)

Mr. Toastmaster.
Ladies and Gentlemen.

We can skew it. We can twist it. We can try and hide it.....but it will emerge none the less relieving us of a burden albeit with a red face.

I needed a deep garden bed dug for herbs in a grassed patch at the back of my house.
I persuaded the complex gardener to do the job during complex times and would pay him "on the quiet". A few blue buffalo notes did the trick.

Rista, the complex manageress is vigilant and always around.....I'll call her "Rista Clipboard".

I came home from lunch and heard a comforting thudding in the back garden. Satisfying sounds of a pick doing its damage. On my way to shower before going back to the studio for the afternoon sessions I heard a yell and "Madame!, Madame!" Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. The water created a fountain and was gushing out of a break in the pipe.

No problem, I've got this, still under control.

We'll call Rista Clipboard. The gardener was horrified and explained that he would lose his job. Right!
He jumped over the wall at my instruction and made headway to the swimming pool enclosure to "weed".
I jumped into the muddy water to dirty myself and spread red mud all over my face arms and clothes.

Rista Clipboard appeared with a surprised face stepping gingerly in the moat which reached around the house.
I put on a wide smile, pick in hand. She must surely have been pretty impressed by my hard work and ran off to call the plumber and switch off the complex water.

See? No problem, I've got this, still under control.

The plumber arrived literally 5 minutes later and I made a mental note to get his card. He was really fast and I liked that. I greeted him and told him I was off to shower and stopped dead at the shake of his head and frown.
No water.
No?
No.
No pressure. No water. No shower!

My mind was racing but I had a plan, a very bright idea.
No problem, I've got this, still under control.
I ran up to the pool and scrubbed the red mud off my face and body. As the colour ran into the pool, I did feel a little bad but fobbed it off. There are more important things to worry about.

I came home to get the plumber card and told him what had happened and that I was so impressed.
How on earth had he got there so fast?
Turns out he lives across the lane from me.....in the same complex!

.....and there it was, the truth.
It lay between us in all it's clear glory.

I was red faced and embarrassed, but as I drove back to work I had a strange feeling of relief.

The truth was out.

There was nothing more to skew.
There was nothing more to twist.
There was nothing more to hide.

Granny Gabby and the Archangel Gabriela - Toastmasters Xmas Ghost Story

Mr. Toastmaster.
Ladies and Gentlemen.

The scene was set for yet another Xmas. The tree in the corner was brightly lit with tiny flickering lights and baubles, gold and shiny. The presents were wrapped and piled under the tree. Unopened treasure.
Looking at the scene Milly realised that something was missing and went in search of the box which contained the Archangel Gabriela. The doll was a reminder of Granny Gabby who had died on Xmas eve 10 years before. As she opened the box she experienced a feeling of nostalgia and perhaps the scent to Granny Gabby's perfume. She was certainly a feisty old bird and at times stubborn and outspoken. Milly unruffled the stiff tulle and placed the Xmas Angel gently on the table next to the tree and went to greet the guests arriving for the Xmas eve festivities. Milly looked back at the Angel lovingly and was taken aback when she saw a glinting in the dead black eyes. A chill ran down her spine.

"Hell yeah, I'm feisty! Wouldn't you be if you had been in a box for 360 days? I have 5 days a year in the prime seat on the table. A perfect position to see the goings on over Xmas and see the great grandchildren a year older each time. I've had enough though. Ten years is a long time to be packed away in the box. All I wanted to do when I passed over, was to get a last look at the family and hid in the Angel Gabriela. I thought this would be appropriate being my namesake. Blow me down I get stuck in the trinket for heaven's sake, no pun intended. These little black beady eyes are less than sufficient windows and besides, this dress is not me.
I need release. I need to expand my horizons. I need to fly. My porcelain face is thin and cold. My plastic eyelashes are thick and heavy. Host to a doll is not what I meant when I said "I'll be with you in spirit".
G Host I ask you!
My fingers are very plastic and pink and moulded to a cheap gold plastic harp. Nonetheless I concentrate hard and send all of my energy to the little strings. Yes!... and I hear, not a good sound, but a sound of whining and it increases in intensity and I hear footsteps..."

The family heard the strange vibrating and ran to the lounge. The out of tune whining was coming from the harp in the Xmas Angels hands. Their mouths hung open as they watched the little harp expand and release like the ribs of a small child. The sound increased in intensity and pitch and created such tension that it shot out of the Archangel Gabriela's plastic fingers. With the forward motion of the harp, the Angel became unbalanced and fell to the floor before reaching hands could rescue it from smashing to the floor.

Granny Gabby was finally free from her self imposed imprisonment. She was without limitations and had let go. Her spirit was free and filled the room.

As the doll broke the family was in awe of the melodious and exquisite music. A rich perfume filled the air and everyone was filled with a sense of belonging and joy.

Merry Xmas.

Attaining Balance....(CC2)

Mr. Toastmaster.
Ladies and gentlemen.

The dictionary definition of balance is.....an even distribution of weight enabling a person or thing to remain upright or steady, or..... a situation in which different elements are in equal proportion.

I am a Pilates instructor and my job is to restore balance.

Imagine a coat hanger and that coat hanger is your skeleton. Perfectly balanced.
Imagine a heavy overcoat, made up of muscles connected by tendons. Perfectly balanced. Put this overcoat onto the coat hanger and the combination is no short of miraculous and ingenious balance.

Where there is no gravity there is no stress.

Standing upright with your head balancing on your neck perpendicular to the shoulders which are directly over the hips and the feet. The feet are planted with equal pressure on the triangle of "big toe to small toe to heel". No Gravity, No Stress.

Your pelvis acts as your anchor which is central to your stability.

The pelvis is like a cage. Around that cage we have a weight belt. This weight belt is connected to the pelvis and the diaphragm. When breathing, on inhale we expand our lungs. On exhale the lungs empty and tug on the weight belt, the transverse abdominal muscle, activating it.
Deep breathing just on it's own will improve the lumber vitality.

The spine is a natural and gentle 's' curve consisting of 7 neck vertebrae, 12 thoracic vertebrae, 5 lumbar vertebrae, a sacrum and a coccyx.

If you lie on your back the pelvis is central and acts as the fulcrum. Imagine a huge bolt with two equal levers made of steel attached. If one or both of the levers lifts then there is pressure on the fulcrum. The longer the levers and the heavier, the stronger the fulcrum has to be.
Your pelvis is that fulcrum and your upper body and the lower body are the levers.

Then we're thrown a curve ball.
We have a dominant side.

We develop habits over time which in turn create well worn brain paths to automatic movement.
Carrying a handbag over one particular shoulder for years will create in itself a few problems. Turning toward you handbag 20 times per day creates a rotation that number of times, which creates stronger muscles in that direction. How we drive our cars, turning a foot in a habitual manner or resting a leg in an automatic vehicle will create a stretch on that particular leg and work on the other.
How we sit and where you turn to your computer screen are all habitual movements which create strength in muscles in a certain position or direction.
Slowly we tip the scales and put more and more pressure on the body and often the lower back and pelvis. Eventually there's a breaking point at which the body doesn't cope with the imbalance and results in a torn muscle, ligament or debilitating pain.

Now you have 2 options. One is to go to a surgeon who'll cut the muscular coat to fit the coat hanger and even worse, adjust the coat hanger to fit the imbalance of the overcoat.

Your second option is to practice pilates.

The pilates instructor will take you and squeeze you in the middle like a closed toothpaste tube.
You will lengthen, taking the pressure off your lumbar spine and strengthen the muscles surrounding the pelvis, to cope with the movement of your upper and lower body. The muscular overcoat can be strengthened and stretched into balance over time. Your posture will improve.

Pilates is a mindful practice and purposeful movement is essential.
Correcting and creating new brain paths to new ways of moving.
Retraining muscles, creating new habits aiming at an upright posture.

Become aware of how you walk, how you sit and how you stand.

Balance is good.
Balance is attainable.
Balance is perfect.

Mr. Toastmaster.

Mgm and the Roller coaster ride (CC1)

Mr. Toastmaster.
Ladies and Gentleman.

I came into this world kicking and screaming in Klerksdorp.
I was bracing myself for what I now know to be a preordained roller coaster ride.

I already had a brother, my sister was born a year later and my mom turned 21.

My mom had left school in Std. 9 to help support her family financially. She had grown up in a mining town and hadn't travelled.
My dad on the other hand had studied in South Africa and in Edinburgh and had travelled the world.
He was a "de Wet". Family of the Boer General de Wet and was the minister of the local church.

This proved to be an explosive combination.

It is safe to say that I had a very well disciplined Presbyterian upbringing, which often involved the belt.

I remember on one occasion my mom getting us to march up and down the passage singing "I'm a brave, brave mouse, I go marching through the house....."

My reading was controlled and limited to Barbara Cartland romance. My education as to "how to be a lady"......It goes like this........You see a man in a billowing white shirt, riding a horse, you slump into a dead faint, he scoops you up and the rest is "His" story.......

At home the music choice was marching classics.

I'll skip to the last 3 years of my schooling which was spent at Potch Girls High.
I spent much of my time in a music room playing the piano and played the Radetsky march for the girls entering and leaving assembly.
I took flute lessons at the neighbouring school and was the "classical slot" in the prizegiving programme.
I was accepted for the Western Transvaal Choir and we sang weekly at Potch University.
I was chosen to sing overseas and after returning the choir joined with others and we sang Vivaldi's Gloria Deo with the Johannesburg Philharmonic Orchestra........one of my favorite memories.

I was accepted to Wits to study a BMus but this didn't last long. Barbara Cartland proved to be a less than competent teacher of social reality.

I went on to do Cobol Programming at Infoplan in Pretoria and loved it.
I was called into the office after a few months and was expecting a promotion.
Apparently I was a "security risk". My mom had been writing to an ANC friend who had been involved in a bombing incident. Remember that this was in 1980. At the time that I was being "expelled", the security police were all over the farm in Tierpoort.

The next best thing was to get married, so I did.
Little did I know that I was jumping from the fire into the frying pan.

With the marriage came a change of initials and I received my MgM status and a life to match.
Polo in the winter, skiing in the summer and very busy social life.
We lived in the Free State.
I had 3 beautiful and very creative children who went to school in Natal.
Up and down van Reenen's Pass on a weekly basis for ten years.

My mom, exempt by her age had applied to Unisa and done her theology degree. She also did an H.E.D and then went overseas to work and travel.
She is now an Anglican Priest.

One by one the children left and it was my que to step out on my own.
I arrived in Pretoria 7 years ago.
The cage of the roller coaster hit the water and created a huge wave.
The water settled to a calm pool and I realise the purpose of the ride.

I bought a little house.
I have developed a medicinal herb garden and enjoy bird watching. The only music I play now is the Djemi drum, every two weeks in a drumming circle.
My children brought me a cat called Ninja.
I'm a Pilates instructor and give 35 lessons a week.
I read, write and blog. My bookcase is full of books on Psycology, philosophy, religious ceremony and ancient cultures. My favorite book find is "Jewish folklore". I went to Schul after getting permission from the Rabbi.

"There are no mistakes".

In my old life I was a whiskey drinking, chain smoking, pill popping socialite.
Today I drink pure water, green tea, black coffee and use only plant medication.
With the help of Toastmasters I aspire to be an inspiration speaker to women who need inspiration.
I want to be a social light.

Mr. Toastmaster.

Free

Thunder above our heads in the
clouds blinding us misty vision

Rain pelts on down as a duck
hugs her feathers and it rolls right off her back

Water runs free to the valleys to be
the ballast for my raft

Going with the flow and rising the tide
comes in to beach with treasure

Each rolling wave has the power to save
and to drown you in blissful rapture

Loose yourself float away purple hue
carpet ride up and away

Kundalini tantric dreaming
sacred otherworld splendour

Who knows what tomorrow will bring
your suns and your moon and your star

A shift in perception will bring new reflection
as we look upon Earth from Mars


MgM (c)

Shamanic Shifting

I see you all
in Lemon Haze
brisk and clear
against a warm soft fog
Touching souls
an iris handshake
smiling welcome
holding light
A still pond waits
we let our fish loose
we share ourselves
reel them back into us
To hug them close
accepting gifts
Yoda, Sheba, Angel, Pan
receiving countless blessings
Beads clap crisply
rhythmic rejoicing
Gratefully remembering
brass on brass
inducing visions
smudged me clean
a Sage affair

MgM (c)

Positional Perception

Hansel and Gretal I see in the clouds and then there's a shift and a pig appears

Moonbathing under a cool blue sky, flickering flames make the shadow dance

St. Peters' sit in the sandy beds, newly planted and grateful for water

NinjaKat lies on the cool tiles, keenly watching insects that I can't see

Crickets and beetles rub their wings totally unaware that I am listening

I bless my children, confess my sins, to something I only feel

Depending on which side you're on, the truth could be a lie

Perception plays an important part of how we experience life

Remember what for you is joy , could be anothers strife

All action has a domino effect and changes lifes great flow

It ripples out to create a shift, be aware of the seeds you sow

My body is a great machine and serves me well today

Each cell is full of consciousness and knows my deepest wish

Wish wisely heart for without a doubt will manifest in time

MgM (c)

Show me

Show me the picture
that fills your head
Tell me the things
that cannot be said
Explain yourself fully
and open your heart
Honestly, bravely
before time to part
I hold onto secrets
that squirm in my mind
Harboring feelings
in boxes that shine
Tucked away truths
learned over time
need coaxing to surface
but the feeling sublime
To free yourself fully
and walk away fine

MgM (c)