The Young Ones

Yes –I have been in a very dark space the past year, and sleep escapes me most nights. Strange thoughts wander through the caverns of my mind.  The winds of change is hard to accept. My soul is so very heavy-I just want to escape from it. Just yesterday I was sitting behind those oak desks-writing with a fountain pen. Today life is filled with disillusionment and false promises-the shine is tarnished. 

Nothing is true what was promised. The world was filled with magic, hope and desire way back then. We would conquer the world-we would be different, we would be special, we would live forever, we would never grow old. I always believed that life would always be fun, a journey to be discovered, a mystery to unravel.  No obstacle, nor any challenge would impede the success that seemed to be within grasp. Fear and despair would never touch me. Pain nor heartache would never be in my vernacular-only the radiance of love. "Invincible" was the motto on my standard. Now that very standard lies among the ashes of my broken dreams.

Oh, how wrong I was. Remember the song of Cliff Richard: The young Ones-the lyrics buzzes around in my head on a loop. At the time when it was a hit, I distinctly remember thinking about the words-with my barely teenage brain, that time seemed so far away-in essence an impossible reality-I distinctly said to myself : “Never”.

And I sadly have to confess that I have far outrun the time of the words. “Never” has arrived full force-with unimaginable reality. "Never" shall we be  called the young ones again. 

And now what? Like the British shows title-I seem to be: " Waiting for God". Maybe? -Though He seems to have left the building....


The young ones,
Darling we're the young ones,
And young ones shouldn't be afraid.
To live, love
While the flame is strong,
For we won't be the young ones very long.
Tomorrow,
Why wait till tomorrow,
Tomorrow sometimes never comes.
Love, me,
There's a song to be sung
And the best time is to sing while we're young.
Once in every lifetime
Comes a love like this.
I need you and you need me.
Oh my darling can't you see.
Young dreams
Should be dreamed together,
Young hearts shouldn't be afraid.
And some day when the years have flown
Darling, this will teach the young ones of our own.
The young ones
Darling, we're the young ones
The young ones
Darling, we're the young ones.

Musings on love

Profound questions.  Would you know if someone you have loved deeply is no longer in this world? Would you know that they have left this earthly existence? Would you feel the lack of their presence? Would you feel them beside you? Would you actually know that they are gone? Would you lack their energy? Would you crave their light? Would you have regrets of things you should have done, should have said ? Would you think of them often, more so then before? Would you miss their physical presence? And that most profound, spiritual question-are they really gone? Or are they still present? These philosophical questions haunt the human soul-be it consciously or unconsciously. Incomprehensible to accept annihilation of that which was filled with that divine spark, that energy that is life may cease to exist forever.

So many things comprise love-don`t they? We often come to terms with it once we have lost the one that we should have cherished. No one bad word is ever said at a funeral, only good. Why is that? Why can`t we cherish the present value what we have, accept the love offered to us through grace? All these questions plaque my mind as I recall the people I love-even the ones whom are gone. For love is always in the present tense, never in the past.

Love can never be undone, if we truly loved. If it does unwind, it never was. Some connections that seem like love are simply a mirage of love-for we so desire it that we actually see it, feel it, smell it. Our desire is so strong in wanting love that we create all the imaginings of our soul-for love is the flower of the heart and the fruit of the soul. Spirit creates what is not there-for the desire is so strong that it overcomes its limitations to see the truth. It sees that which never was.  But then the question is-which of these things are true-none or all?  
 

Am I a butterfly dreaming  that I am man, or am I man dreaming that I am butterfly. The eternal question-is all in this world reality or illusion –which is the real world that we inhabit? Food for thought-however what gives me solace is that no energy ever ceases it only transforms and goes on. Including consciousness.

Of death

  
One most definitely wakes  up to truth when is face to face with death. My aunt Olga whom I love dearly all my life is facing this transition-I cannot imagine her gone-I thought she would live forever, be in my life forever-but sadly it is not so. She is in the verge of passing over. She prepared, for this event wide eyed and with total reason. She talked about it.  I hated it every time she brought up the subject-but she was in realistic mode. I am  still in the mode of “I will live forever” illusion all- still though I am not in my teens.  However that is reality which I never wanted to face–this truth of finality now is staring  me down with eyes of  ice-truth beyond measure-and I question life as to its purpose and reason. Is there one- a purpose? None that I see. Times like this I am bewildered and lost. Nothing makes sense at all, everything is purposeless and not important in the scheme of things. Fame and  fortune seem so empty and bear, yet we chase it continually. Why? All seems so worthless.

I am lost in my belief, in my God or rather my faith of eternity,  all filled with  doubts which my rational mind continually is  whispering –which questions ”who knows”–non makes sense.  Maybe all does.  But, every living thing has to face this-there is no escape. Truth be told-non of us will get out of this life alive-nothing that is alive-nothing!

Now, the question is, do we go on in an afterlife? Only a special few have come back with the tale-so, this story is rather questionable, not that I don`t believe it, but at time it is rather hard to come to grips with it as all else seems to point in a different direction. Where is my father? My grand father. My grand mother? My uncle? My husband? My first love and so many friends-non of them have come  back with a story-, all whom I spent so much time with. We talked about life, love  death and all else. Where are they? So where does blind faith leave  me. Is there an after life? Where do they exist now? Do they? Is there  something beyond? Is there eternity? No one- no medium no saint or any other has the truth-even Christ has not demonstrated all concretely. We wonder, we question above all else we hope that we are not here as a me whisper or a fractal of a soap bubble.  Are we here now and forever gone without a trace-but maybe we are just that-an illusion. Nothing in the end- all just  purposeless . I am going mad in my mind.

But in the end when I look at how magically, how perfectly our body functions, how our brain functions,  how our mind  functions, how our emotions function, I have to come to the conclusion that whom ever created  us-has a greater purpose than doing all this work for a mere  80-or a 100 year of lifespan-whomever created this has a   much more of a deeper, higher  vision and purpose of their creation.  Everything has a purpose, so why woundn`t we? Why not there be a higher purpose for  man? Why not for the universe? Why not for the cosmos? I wish we knew the truth-or reality if there is one. I really doubt it.

The truth is that I am scared , lost and totally in the depths of despair when I have to face death- not my own-but death of my loved ones-which is totally destroying.  As for  my own that I will not know-that gives me peace. So this is now-my aunt,   far worse-as I am totally aware of this –no-finality now for me, whereas my own death will be final. No looking back-no analyzing, no re-thinking , no re-writing the tale. It will be absolutely final. 

Maybe it comes at times so we have to think about it - God teaches us mysteriously. Perhaps in time this gives us peace-especially a loved one  like my aunt Olga who was always full of life- and talked of death as part of life, is now passing. Farewell thee well my darling one-may you  have a wonderful journey-I hope and pray we shall meet again. Wait for me darling.  -I love you so very much my wondrous, beautiful, sweet, special aunt!   

I  love you so -my heart aches for you my dearest. I hope our parting is only a brief one darling! 
Blessings and love- Zsuzsika

First snowfall 2018

Today was our first snow of the season. As it  fell it weaved its wondrous magic through our garden. It is truly a white winter wonderland all around. Christmas is almost upon us once more in all its glory as my mind goes back in time. Way, way back. 

Christmas. A reminder for me of so many different moment in my life-dear, precious moments that I guard and protect fiercely within my heart forever.  My mind is filled with moments from various Christmases of years gone by- they are all are like snap shots, tiny fragments  of my life that seem to jump out and the whole experience of the moment is re-lived once more. If it was not for this time of the year I probably would never recollect or remember these special moments, thus thankfulness pours out of my heart. 

This time used to have such exciting happy expectations for me. Now as the years wind down, like with birthdays, this time just seems to conjure up contradictory memories filled with happiness and sadness all at the same time, as so many of my loved ones are no longer with us.  We are all tied together with this silver thread and as it thins out through the passing of time as we lose  those we love.  It  pains me deeply wounding my very soul as life seems  to go on uninterrupted regardless of my pain-so it seems. I am merely less than an atom of reality-thus  I matter not or do I in the scheme of things ? I wonder.

Christmas-oh…such a magical glorious time. Memories of sounds, fragrances and shiny decorations from my childhood come flooding back from times gone by as I was growing up in South Africa. Vivid memories of trimming the tree.  Christmas Eve with my grandparents -never was a Christmas without them. The evening was sparkling with splendour and the lingering fragrance of the fresh pine as it filled the entire house.  It was always a living tree in a pot , which was later transplanted into our garden, often tinsel sparkling on them for months on end until the elements got their glory. 

They though eventually did grow up to be splendid- tall and strong specimens of their kin. There was always much compassion and love towards those cut Christmas trees, - bound up tightly with string and  awaiting to find a temporary home, end of their short life within sight. So we never ever had a cut one-as it was too much of a painful reminder of the sad tale of  Hans Christian Andersen`s story of the  little “Fir Tree”-a rather grim metaphor of life.  Those Andersen stories were always far too sad for me-I never liked them as a child, they always brought tears to my eyes. Though I still have a book of Andersen tales that my grandfather gave me one Christmas-I have to admit I never did read all-far too sad.

But, Christmas Eve was always special at our house. The sparkling dancing coloured lights and the glittering decorations always conjured up the magic of the season. I can see my father and grandfather-whom he called Tata, chatting by the fireplace re-living their war stories and "the good old days" which had passed them by.  How beautiful it all was, how fleeting. It just brings tears to my eyes as I revisit the moments.  

Making the Christmas dinner was so special.  I can still hear the hustle and bustle in the kitchen, with the fish soup bubbling on top of the stove and the spicy smell of the fried fish as my grandmother lowered them into the sizzling oil.  Me, peeling the boiled potatoes, cutting the onions for our famous traditional salad.  Then setting the table-it . It always looked awesome, with our best China and silverware “on guard”- and of course many candles. Christmas records playing on the turn table non-stop. Yes-they were vinyl back in those days, and sounded fabulous.  Years later, in Canada, we acquired  two beautiful huge porcelain antique candelabras that we have been using  for the past 40 years.  

Yes-, the Christmas angels rang the bell and baby Jesus brought the present-piles of them in various forms. Oh, I believed in those angels for a long, long time.  Month before Christmas, from age 7, every year I saved money for months to buy the gifts. I went shopping  months before for my parents and grandparents with so much excitement that my heart always just wanted to jump out of my chest.  I hid everything all through the house. I could hardy wait for Christmas Eve with enormous anticipation. Yes-my mom always got something pretty-jewelry, perfume or clothes . My father and grandfather always got the traditional tie, scent and cigarettes-sadly the latter killed them both, but who knew then.

So the bottom line is that it is never about the presents, the special gifts-neither is it about the angels. It is all about the people around that table that we love deeply. It is also about the past which  a sad reminder of how many loved ones were originally around our  Christmas table, and now we are nursing a  broken heart for their loss. All we have are the memories seared into our hearts. But-we shall all be together one day and that silver cord shall never be broken ever. Love does that. So it is.

Samsara

Who am I ? I am exactly whom I say I am. Nothing more nothing less. I play no games, tell no lies, try not to inflict pain, nor project untrue imaginings- either with soul or spirit nor the physical. That would be a dangerous game for me-I would be very bothered by my conscience.  I try to work from my soul as far as possible, it always has been that way. You see most of us go far deeper than it seems on the surface, most of us human beings  are really guided by the light-though very few still are blind to it. Why, or how that works  I cannot say-that is beyond my comprehension, I just accept it. All I know that it  "is". 

What you see, feel about me  is who I am really. Neither did I choose this path, it was chosen for me-, all I know this to be true in my simple humanness. I  have accepted it, know that it is the right path to tread. At times it is very painful, at times far beyond all happiness. It really has nothing to do with the physicality of being. My oversoul knows, so does it understand as well as it directs all. I do not question it, I never have. I merely allow it to make its own decisions, thus I follow for I know that it the path I have to follow, and above all it is the right one for me. Everything  goes far  beyond our perception, far beyond our physical being.

Some things just defy explanation, or why it actually happens. Especially souls coming into and out of  one`s life, I have thought about it long and hard and the answers do not come. I never seek it, as God is my witness.  I never plan it . However mostly at times when I feel safe, at peace and within a space where I am in a safe harbour is when things happen, and souls show up in my life-and more attachment in some form-be it love or hate and all things in between. And once more I am so frightened and scared as to what lies ahead of me. I don`t want to be ever hurt again, yet the path is very unpredictable, dangerous and filled with dragons and monsters.

All I know is I have to accept blindly the instructions from spirit. No, not for the sake of love, but love of God. The outcome often is still under a veil-indefinitely. Often these times, life seems to be in total chaos. The cycle of samsara --but I really do think there is an underlying plan for each and everyone of us.

As for tomorrow, that still has to be determined, but today is good. One has to accept that nothing stays the same, everything changes. The Buddhist have the right philosophy to get out of the wheel of life, is non-attachment. This is damn hard, as the ego is adamant at being attached for its own survival, thus until we control and reign in ego we are in continual suffering within the wheel of life.

A musical thing

One goes through phases in life, phases in time when one seems to question everything-and at times one loses direction.  I am at this point now. Many years ago there was a book titled: ”Passages”-which at the time did not resonate much with me, but now it does.  I now recognize all the passages in my life. These days it feels and seems like –I have been there, done that, have the T-shirt now what? Rather frustrating when the road is so foggy, but I wonder what will appear, as there is always a reason for everything that happens on this journey called life. Alan Watts is right-it is not a journey at all, but a musical thing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBpaUICxEhk

I am debating within me the idea of taking off at least a year in the form of a sabbatical from my work. I need to try to figure out myself-who am I really, as these days I hardly know the question, never mind the answer. In the modern world these days we tend to forget ourselves as we run after the material stuff.  I have done that for far too long.

As I stated in some previous post-I do have a plan and do work the plan these days,-I have changed direction to some degree, but I don`t think it`s enough-for it dosn`t seems to satisfy my heart nor spirit. Something seems to be missing. There is a deep restlessness within me, a need of something that I seem to lack-yet I have no idea what it is. I am searching for something that I feel I need, but cannot say what that is-perhaps I am hoping once I glimpse it, I will recognize it. Maybe it is just the years catching up with me- or a realization that life seems to be like an empty vessel. Some say this is the sign of waking up-of becoming conscious. Stepping out of the old paradigm and into a new one, cutting the chords of old is a difficult process.  A step into a new dimension is not easy-neither is it a pleasant experience, rather foreign to our human nature.

So where does all this leave me-the words that come to mind is “ totally and utterly perplexed”-the only thing making sense this very moment is the soul-soothing music of  Pachelbel`s Canon in D-Major. I am home doing the musical thing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVn2YGvIv0w

Food for thought

A FB post from a friend-I think I will take the Mexican`s philosophy to heart!

American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, “only a little while. The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs. The American then asked, “but what do you do with the rest of your time?”
 
“The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.” The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “15 – 20 years.”

“But what then?” Asked the Mexican.

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions!”

“Millions – then what?”

The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife Maria, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

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