images of existence

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Life force of all,
from everlasting to everlasting
thou art

I started on the path;
my visual experience:  sitting in eternity with thee,
looking down

light of thy creation ::  gold  ::  surreal  ::
I have climbed this route a thousand times,
yet, I hardly recognised it.

I sat down.  everything about this hike was wrong.
I took this pic and turned back.

meditating.

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When I consider the works thy laws
the movement of time and change
beauty and grandeur of thy intentions
how privileged are we to be a part of the all of thee.

i see her
beautiful

beginning to love again. radiant!

meditating.  connected.

(sometimes I get the feeling she is watching over me)

***********

Thee, oh great one has trained my hands for war
my feet for the battle
thy wisdom has been imparted into my soul

My feet flies across the rocks
Michael runs next to me.

I laugh.  Want to slow down.  He shouts:
“faster eben, faster!  you can keep up!”

my mind disconnects
my feet lands on places to fast for my eyes to see

i fly!

he jumps
into clear air where he is met by swirling clouds.
wind that slices in joy.

he cries out in ecstasy!
“eben, look!”

“beauty of life”

somewhere on earth a penguin dips between the water to hunt.

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a leopard mom plays with her cub.

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zebras play

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i sweep down on the wind
from high above the spinning, blue globe
i catch her as she floats on white mist. meditating.  connected.

we dance.  across the great mountains of earth.

later that day we sit on a glacier in the arctic talking about the kids.
that evening she swims the Atlantic and I surf in Mauri.

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ioe swimmer

is this ground control to major Tom?
the stars look very different today.
though I passed one hundred thousand miles, i am feeling very still.

tell her that I love her very much. . .  she knows.

©  eben van tonder

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christmas at home

 

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Copenhagen

 

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Sweden

 

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Vienna

 

christmas at home

 

Christmas in Sweden, Vienna or Copenhagen
can’t compare with one at home
where we scramble up a mountain
T and I
sanity doubting

 

Sun and sea
No sleigh bells in the snow
none compare with a Christmas at home
La and I
Graffalo’s she child
and sweet lullaby’s

 

today is for loved ones
from near – from far
thankful meditation
phoenix beauty, brothers and sisters
friends from around the globe
celebrating
. . . .

merry Christmas everybody!

 

© 2011

 

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Cape Town-20111225-00994

 

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letters to my loved ones 7. eternal life

Dear Angelique,

Africa reminds me of you.

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When I heard that the Tommies took you prisoner in Harrysmith, I was shocked.

I told my neighbours that night at the bar that if they harm you . . . . well, I used many  good Afrikaans words and Pieter’s wife told me that there was no need to use language like that in the company of ladies.

I did not care.

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The next night, when Jannie brought me the letter you wrote from your prison cell. . .

Angelique, I am a man who have seen much in my life.

That night was hard.  When I learned that there was a chance for them to execute you.  The letter that you asked me to read at your funeral, if they do. . . .  it was all very moving.  Overwhelming.

Also, appropriate.

I was strong.  Thinking how foolish it looks if I fall apart while you are in prison, facing the firing squad and you are so brave.  Writing such beautiful things to your family.  Also some hard things that had to be said.

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Angelique, our lives are real and we are real people. I respect you!  Everything you said moved me and I will never forget it!

I know the trial came and went and the magistrate ordered your release.  Still, your letter stayed with me.  I can not rid my mind from it.

Today I am looking out over Table Bay on a clear, warm summers day.  The wind, pleasant and exhilarating to the soul.

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I think about you and wonder what I would say at your funeral one day.

One never knows what can happen.  With the runderpes and malaria; lions and very stubborn oxen; the English ruling in the Cape and wanting to take our freedom; our own war – we just never know.

Of course I will read your letter, but what else will I say?

Here is what I came up with this morning on Table Mountain.  eternal life

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At the beginning of time
worlds were brought fourth
from Odin and Ymar to the Menominee and Manabush
particles, energy, soul interfused
at the beginning of all,
consciousness – pre-empted

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At the alpha of consciousness,
the start to self
from the Elohim to the Potawatomi Story

beauty, kronos and phoenix distilled
beget
you

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Your soul is the soft breeze
high on the mountain top
Tales of Pan Gu and Nü Wa
beauty that million minds perceive

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Your spirit, every regal morning
from the Cape of Good Hope
to deep in the Pyrenees

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Your eyes the rain
falling on a thousand beautiful lands
the vital life source
of every beast, woman and man

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your heart, the love of mothers
who hold an infant close
and sing sweet lullaby’s
of triumph against all woes

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your passion, vision and you love
the world itself is this
a million waterfalls and sunsets
connected. . . IS your life

the hoof beats of a thousand animals
celebrating, life untamed
it is what flows from you
my dearest
beauty, distilling from mist to rain

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Your soul, the start of every morning
creation when all’s brought fourth
from Odin and Ymar to the Menominee and Manabush
the convergence point of glory

you can never die, princess
queen of heaven and earth and life
and this my words will be
when one day, your body departs

My dearest Angelique, it came to me that every flower and the soft mountain breeze – how effortless my soul communes with these, talking to you, every day, even if you are a thousand kilometres from me – you are right here.

Its almost Christmas.  I hope to see you soon and would dearly love to give you this letter in person, but in case the Tommies or some other nation would interfere, I am posting this letter today in the hope that you will get it before Christmas.

All my love,

Eben

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letters to my loved ones 6. letter to my children

T and La’tjie,

Finally it feels as if summer has arrived.  I am sitting at Michaels, working.  My mind wonders.  Its your last day of primary school today, T!

You guys are my most precious moments!

T, your first school day was in Vanderbijlark, when we stayed with Ouma.  7 years ago!

We did not have money to pay for our own place.  We just lost Millennium Marketing and after that nothing seemed to work out.  The asking rate just always seemed to be more than the run rate.

I cant believe its only 7 years ago!

You were going to school and I was trying to figure out the next business move.

Remember STAR!

In the photo you are sitting next to Bernalee, a previous Miss South Africa!  and La’tjie is sitting with Patrick, one of the flight paramedic’s.

I did some contract work for All Joy Foods.  I realised there are more opportunities in food than in chemicals and I changed focus.

I got a job at Stocks Meat Market in Cape Town and we moved to the Cape.

When the kids and Julie arrived in cape Town – we had NO furniture. Here La sits on the only furniture we had – a wooden coffee table. We slept on blow-up mattresses and sat on camping chairs for months.

Your first school day in Cape Town at Groote Schuur Primary School.  Not one of us guessed that Mom would end up working at the school and you would become deputy-head boy!  Or that La’tjie would do drummies and become SA champs five years later!

Deputy head boy

I worked for Stocks.  Resigned after they decided not to implement the strategy that I was employed for originally.  I again got some contract work with a food company, Goosebumps Frozen Food Distributors and moved to Johannesburg for a year and a half.  It was during this time that I met Oscar who would become my partner and the man who would make Woodys a success with me.

Deep in rural SA. A place called Sibasa in Venda. At a client – Spar.

When I came back, I started Woodys – 2008.  Oscar joined me in 2009.

T and La with me at Uncle Okkies pig farm

Woodys finally brought stability in our lives from a work perspective.

We had the most amazing times in Cape Town and moving here from Gauteng was one of the best decisions of our lives!

We climbed the mountain probably a million times!

On Table Mountain – the day when we got stuck in a storm at the top.

Remember all our trips up Lions Head?  How scared I was the first time when we got to the chains and before I could do a thing you guys were up the chains to the horror of me and everybody watching you guys!

Remember the afternoons at Sea Point when we would go and eat MacDonald’s.  You guys would play put-putt and I would go for a run.

Waves at Seapoint. . . . Tris, standing his ground. . . only because he does NOT know what is behind him! :-) )

How we would watch every movie in the DVD shop.  Play Wii games.  Braai’s with Paul and Claudette and take drives around the Cape Peninsular.

Paul and Claudette’s wedding.

The bunk bed you guys slept on.  Remember “bear-bear” every night before you went to bed and Graffalo’s Child?!

Remember the “smoking” incident the lesson that there are certain things you DO NOT tell your mom about!

Cheap Tuesday movies at Kennilworth and Lauren’s “play-and-eat” at the Spur!

Drives to Oudtshoorn to go and visit Ouma and your cousins.

La and ouma (grand mom)

T and ouma (grand mom)

So many good memories.

During this time I wrote “The Anatomy of a Sceptic” in which I describe the road to the realization that there is no Christian God.  You guys took to this idea like a fish to water and loved the fact that we no longer went to church on a Sunday!

The visits to your Grandparents for Christmas in Pretoria and the days on end you guys would spend in the pool.

The kids with Gamma

Mom and I decided to give each other some space and divorced.

Getting a divorce.

T became deputy head boy and learned that like me, you are not built for cricket! 

You started to LOVE rugby and in your last year of primary school were playing for the High School already.

T – Playing number 3!

La’tjie did not want to be forced into anything by grown-ups and decided to start doing Drummies.  SA champion!  What an amazing achievement!

La’tjie and friends at the drummies finals in Durban.

T did what we have taught you all your life namely NOT to follow other peoples ideas of right and wrong and against my advice, you choose to go to Rondebosch next year.  A decision that I now support wholeheartedly, knowing that it is the right choice for you and one of the best schools in the country!

I have seen you develop from a boy, tempted by all kinds of insecurities, to a young man who are confident and independent.  A leader!

T and I being brave! :-)

I have seen Lauren develop from a cute girl into a gorgeous child!

Lauren @ sea point

Its a time of growth and change for all of us.  Mom and I have the opportunity to move on with our lives.  I am working with Oscar at setting up the Woodys Factory, setting up our international trading partners.  Redefining my personal life.  When to hold on and when to move on.  When to hope and when to be realistic.  And the enjoyment of climbing Table Mountain every day!

I hope each of you find your own Table Mountain one day!

Today is a day for thinking about next year, T!  So many things happened in the 7 years since you went to school for the first time.

Final primary school day for T!

You have the character, the determination and the eye for quality to be very successful in high school, as you have been in primary school.  As with La, I am very proud of the person that you are becoming and I treasure every moment with you!

La’tjie, you have such clear goals for next year.  It is amazing to see.  The excitement with which you approach every new day!  You are a beautiful child and I love the two of you very much.

Your mom and dad are by no means perfect and of course there are days when all is not fun and games.  Like us, you guys will one day also be in your late 30’s and early 40’s and you will have to face the daemons of your own past as people tend to do when they reach this age.

T, as you enter high school, and La, as you finish primary school, remember:

Connect with who you are and what makes you happy.

Live according to the values in your soul!

Try and do something daring every day!

Embrace challenges!

Do everything in your life with excellence and passion.  Shun mediocrity!

Challenge conventional thinking!

Respect the rules of engagement!

Never fear anybody!

Be creative!  Find new ways to do things!

Learn how to hold on and also, learn to let go!

Live each day as if its your last day on earth!

Surround yourself with friends who will challenge you to be better!

Learn how to treat beautiful woman! 

Don’t get involved in other people’s problems.  (generally – dont involve yourself in adult problems.  the problems of your parents and other adults in your life are theirs and theirs alone.  dont make it your problems.  IT IS NOT YOURS!  Refuse to get involved!)

Have fun!

Being your dad is the greatest privileged of my life!

You guys rock!!

Your Dad
9 December 2011

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letters to my loved ones 5. letters from the bushveld

Dear Angelique,

Seeing you in the Bushveld was better than pork cracklings or a very good harvest.

I heard that you organise men and woman all over the Bushveld to join the fight.

This impressed me very much.  Not that I did not think you could be so brave, but that I wonder if I could work as hard as you and deal with very stubborn Boers who insist on fighting the way their fathers did.

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I respect you!

The Xhosa queen who was with you was not at all how i pictured her.  She is kind and the Boers at home will be much intimidated by her as you yourself are intimidating to the Boers.

It is a strange thing that we have much more in common with the Xhosa and Sotho people than with the English.  We share this great land and call Africa home.  We eat pap and we can stay out in the sun for a long time without turning pink.

It is also a funny thing that Boers are very mucho and when you speak to them and they are enchanted by your beauty and frightened by your intellect, they become very fearful and much less “big and strong”.

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Around me are strange fly-like bugs.  Blue.  And lizards with blue heads. Kudus and the smell of the bush.

My spirit goes quite and I am happy that I am home again.  In my beloved land.

My thoughts are captured by the beauty of this land.  The grandeur of the quest I am on.  The friendships of the people I am with.  What you said about being true to oneself and not to deny the love and passion in ones heart.

Angelique, I have realised that life is not about great quests and wars.

Life is about friends and about the kids and about Cape wine that was brought to the Bushveld with the post wagons.

Life is not as i have always thought.

It is about a Xhosa queen, far from her land, who honoured me by giving me a big hug and introducing me to her kids.

The nice food we had on Oom Frik’s farm and Aunt Susanne who brought so many melkterte from the kitchen that we could not possibly eat all of them.

You told the burgers to connect to the values in their heart.  You inspired me Angelique!

Before you left for Pretoria, I told you that I am insanely jealous when any of the burgers or foreigners come close to you.  It is what is in my heart!

When you stood by the carriage and the sun was in your hair and I held your hand, I told you the things that are in my heart.  All of it!

The neighbors on the farms in the district will laugh when they hear what I told you.  I dont care.  Its what is in my heart and it is real.

Its colder tonight.  I have a glass of red wine.  Moths come in from everywhere to the candle on the table.

Life happens for me when I taste wine from the Cape and smell the Bushveld.

Especially when I think about how pretty you looked when I saw you standing under a Bushveld tree, talking to the burgers. That I told you all that is in my heart and the great love I have for you.

The smell of your hair when I kissed you just as the moon was low over the bushveld trees.  The softness of your lips.  Your infectious laugh.

This is all that is important to me.

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I can see how you must be to many of the Boers like a vision from heaven.  You are exactly that and I told you how I feel.

In the end Angelique, we are best friends and it feels as if I can tell you anything.  Even though I told you what I feel before, I have never said everything that I told you before you left.  I hope you are not angry with me for having said all those things.

Still, how tomorrow will work out, who knows? Today is all that matters.

The soft spring wind and the smell of your hair. Your beautiful eyes.  A Xhosa queen telling me the story of her life and her love for children.

My Angelique, I wrote you something tonight.  Its not something fancy like the English can write who went to Oxford and studied literature.  Or the clever Americans who always have the right words.

You know I am a simple man who have learned to say what is in my heart.  Nothing more and nothing less.

Most of the words I learned that time in school when I used to get so many detentions and was forced to read books that were boring then, but I am glad I learned english after all.

I call you “my lunar beloved”.

i dance on star dust
i engineer in ether
at night . . .  my beloved comes to me.

why do you come to me
with lunar incantations
in temporal synthesis
with your rapturous persistence
(with sunlight so near,
to wrench my heart away)

i bath in solar flairs
i construct in complication
at night i commune with my beloved

at twilight our souls beckon,
we meet at the bottom of a stairwell to the sea
in crepuscular night,  i behold perfection
when dragons bath in tempestuous seas

in the day i fight a war of absolution
at night, i worship my lunar beloved

Tonight, in my dreams, I will again smell the hair of my immortal beloved!  Sing a  song, taught to me by my forefathers and the kings and queens of the great xhosa people!  About love and great friendship!

tomorrow I will fight my war of absolution.  

Tonight I hold you very close to me in my dreams and I read my poems to you!

worship my lunar beloved,

eben

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letters to my loved ones 4. a letter from Cape Town

Dear Andre and Elmar,

I have not written to you before, but Dad tells me that Mom always sent my letters on to you. There are things that only brothers can share with each other.  This letter is one of these.

We arrived back in Cape Town from England last night.  Of course we have been successful in England.  A very friendly Welshman is going to help us.

Very few things that our Boers say about the English are actually true.  What is true is that the weather in England is miserable and that they cant play rugby.  The rest are almost all wrong.  London is beautiful and busy and the people are warm and friendly.

But, this morning I dont want to talk about that.  I have far more important matters to report on.

I left home to change things around me and find a way to win the war.  And I did.

Now that Im back in Cape Town I realise that in me something has changed.

I saw Angelique yesterday.

I have been missing her tremendously while I was on my trip.  I wrote her the most emotional letters from Europe.  As the trip progressed things in me started to changed. Things that I did not all understand.  But when she suprised me and met at the harbour, I understood my entire journey.

It was not actually at the harbour.  It was the next day when we hiked across the mountain and were caught in a massive rain storm.

It started to rain.  I looked at her, standing under a tree.  Drenched with water running down her face.  In that moment, the future and the past all converged into one moment of NOW.

I not only saw her, more beautiful than I ever remembered – with her eyes not green, but light shades of blue.  Her hair – dark and reach and wet.  Her laughter – more infectious than ever.

And suddenly I remembered everything.

. . . far more than I ever have.

This is going to sound strange, and you may want to call on Dr Attie to see me when I get home, but in the moment of seeing her, on the mountain with me, in the rain storm, I remembered not just one life, but many.

Memories of Denmark before the orphanage was build.  Emotions when I saw and felt the injustice of the rich exploiting the poor.  When I had to work 18 hours a day while the other 12 year old boys played and learned.

The pain of religion.  King Frederik, brother to King Hans, who at that time was once King in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway.  Who came to Tønder to his castle and took the property of the Friary in Tønder and allowed a Lutheren sermon to be preached.

Even as a poor, uneducated boy I loathed the treatment of the Catholic’s as much as I later hated the treatment of the Protestants when we fled to Holland because of the civil war.  As I hated the injustice to the poor!

In one moment, looking at my beloved Angelique, centuries of existences merged.

When I suddenly stopped worrying about Nico or David or Magiel who had much to say about the fact that I wanted to go and find a way to win the war.  Who did not like it at all when I said that I’m not going to church on Sunday any more and that I would rather pray to the God who speaks to my soul when I walk through the mielielande or ride through the grasslands of the Transvaal or climb Table Mountain.

Nico who said that he will never speak to me again unless I get on my horse and ride to his farm where I must listen to him telling me about my sinful life.

When I saw the purple flowers around her.  I was excited to be alive, enchanted by her beauty and I  knew that I will never again be bound by other peoples ideas about what is right and wrong for me.  And if loving her is right for me, then I will do it with no apology.

At that moment, all of the centuries that I have lived and the centuries that is to come, converged into one moment.  When I became me – free from the prison and fears of the past.  When all that mattered was the passion that burns in my own heart and that I be true to this passion.

When every purple flower on Table Mountain became the image of my eternal beloved!  As it has always been and always will be.

In that moment i was no longer on the mountain with her.  and at the same time, I was!  In the rain.  but we were also in Spain as a banished ruler and the priestess from an ancient temple-cult. I was in Tønder in South Denmark, as a poor slave boy.  In Copenhagen as a wealthy merchant.  she was many woman in many lives.

we were everywhere at once and everything in the universe was in us and outside of us at the same time.

I was meeting her in Amsterdam after I fled there and I was walking with her through olive groves in Spain centuries before Amsterdam.

I was holding her before she falls asleep.

I was watching her while she sleeps.

I was making love to her.

. . .  all at once.  In one moment.

I was lost in her eyes and at the same time – grounded in the knowledge of what millennia of existences taught me, that I can only be happy if I am true to my own heart. and that my heart contains her and at the same time she is too lovely to be contained by anybody’s heart.

Kissing her because I love her and “not kissing her” because I respect her journey – all merged into one.  None was first or second.  all was NOW!

Every conversation we had yesterday were conversations that we had – many lifetimes before and the spiritual places we move to become starting points of untold lifetimes together.

The rain in my face.  Her eternal beauty.  Different universes.  Every war we lived through.  Every loss we experienced.  Every child we loved.  Every moment of torture and abuse.  As a slave boy and an abused child.  Every mountain we scaled.  Every setback we overcame.  Every friend we lost.  Every friend we made.  Every time our hands touched or our arms in an embrace or our lips in a kiss.

In that moment, all merged.  i at once understood everything and I knew nothing.  I was capable of the impossible and I was like a child.  I was strong and I was weak.  I was me and I was the universe that I am a part off.

and as assuredly as all of this, I knew that I love her forever!  and that she loves me.

that she is the rain on my face.  the flowers that I hold.  the air I breath. my every morning and my deepest sleep.   She is perfect and beautiful in her imperfections.

she and i are us!

when we made it down i retired to my room and fell into a deep sleep.  When I woke up she was gone, but she left me a note to meet her at the end of the year on the west coast.

Tomorrow I am riding for the Transvaal.  Can we all meet at home?  With the Burgers who signed up to fight with us.  I have much to share and many great stories to tell.

I am looking forwards to seeing you soon.

Your brother,

Eben

ps:  dont ask Dr Attie to come along unless he wants to be taught how to fight with us.

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letters to my loved ones 3. letter from Spain

My dear Angelique,

Its my second last night here.

We have found what we came for.  This time Europe and its people have been good.

Tonight I’m sitting in a small square. Soft autumn wind in my face.  Around me, horse carts and couples. My mind wonders to you, my immortal beloved.

The small streets. The cafe’s.   The street performers.   All remind me of you. The quality of a well ordered life!  Like ancient and well ordered Girona.

We may never be more than good friends.  I know this.

In Copenhagen I did not handle it well.  I was sad and was very much ashamed of some of the things I wrote.  Then, this morning I woke up and I was glad for the passion that is in my heart.  No longer ashamed for expressing it in less elegant terms when I am alone and tired.  When I have not seen the vast grasslands of the Transvaal or smelled the feinbos from the Cape . . . or have seen you for many weeks.

I woke up, glad that I am who I am and feel what I feel!  It sounds strange.  If I would tell my neighbours back on my farm – Jan, Piet, Louis or Boet -  they will make much fun of it at the bar on Friday.  But, I dont care.  I am speaking to you.

I realised that I feel things very strongly.  I am glad! I am alive!  Not only to feel cold German winds and Baltic water.  Not only to drink Turkish coffee at a border Post and get lost in Poland.  To fear when I have to walk alone next to a dark German forest.  But I am glad that my mind wonders, effortlessly and every moment of solitude to you, my eternal beloved.

Friends make fun of me for feeling this way.  They call me a fool and drink to my health in the hope that I will see the light.

Yet, I love everything about you.  Talking to you about the war at home. The complications of Europe. The beauty of Girona which reminds me of you.  Just being good friends.  It is almost magical.  Almost enough.  But not quite.  Not quite. . . .

I realised that I am here because  I have been inspired by you and because of the passion in my heart.  Both are true.  Equally.  The one, not more important than the other.  And not less.  My passion and your beauty.  I have to give an equal place to both of them in my life.

This morning I went out and bought myself shoes.  For me.  When I get back, I will win the war.  For you.  But also for me.

Yet, the small streets.  The mid-evil town.  The cathedral.  The many restaurants.  The flowers and the summer weather.  It is as if every smell and sound becomes a soft breeze on witch my thoughts floats to you.

I am in love with you and I am in love with the excellence you stand for.  I am in love with myself and the excellence I stand for.  The passion in my heart and the wars I fought and am winning.  My commitments and my life.  All of it.

Like the lady who presses virgin olive oil. The mother who stains the rice black to create a payela like dish . . .the name of which I forget now.  The neat streets of Girona. The Mediterranean air.  The water from the Pyrenees.  The wine from France.

It all speaks about excellence.  Of being more than I have been yesterday.  Which is the very thing that I pursue.  As I pursue you, my eternal love. and myself.

A boat has been arranged to take us to London.

Leaving Spain makes me sad.  In so many ways I see you here with me.

England reminds me of the camps and the war and the suffering of our people.  But there are also good people there. This I am sure off.

I cant wait to see you again.

eben

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letters to my loved ones 2. Germany

Dear Angelique,

I have not written to you in a while. I know. But the last few letters I wrote have been too personal. I have said to much.

Today is Sunday. I want to write to you and not mention “us”.  I just want to write to you as my friend.

Remember when we were in school together. How we used to play alies against you. You always took all our best albasters, which made all the boys very angry. And they teased you. But I did not mind loosing alies to you. I was always more interested in looking at your legs.

Those days are long gone. Care free days at a small Volksskool.  I miss those days. Or were they so care free?   My dad had a stroke and things became very difficult for us. And you had it so hard that it still makes me sad when I think about it.

Its autumn. We made it from Denmark all the way to the German midlands, undetected. Chris is brave this morning and went to town to see if he can find some bread.

I’m on a hill overlooking the town. The wind is very cold. Its not like the wind back home.

I wrote to my mom and dad that in Poland, I could not get you the necklace I wanted. We had to leave to early to try and make it back to the ferry to Denmark.

That made me very sad.

There are so many things I will rather tell you about in person. About how the first family who was supposed to take care of us in Germany almost could not. How the sister of the inn’s owner came late at night to fetch us.  How  I told her that it was such a beautiful night that her and I should be painting the town red.

She is old enough to be my mother and I think she did not understand why I wanted to paint a town. Especially since it was very cold and very late and we just got off a cart that brought us from northern Germany.

At the inn she told everybody we are English.  Even though this will make the Boers at home very angry, I think its right for the people here to think we are english.

Tomorrow we are meeting with the people who will show us how the Germans do it.   I am very much looking forward to it. Then we can show the people back home.

Angelique, I write to you about all kinds of things this morning. The things I have written you about previously . . .  please ignore them.

It is strange the things one thinks of when he does not sleep at night and when one is far from home and on a great quest.

I know you have a life of your own and we are good friends and I should think of the people in Poland and Denmark and at home.

No matter how sad it makes me, we are not at school any more, playing alies.

Now, all around me are tall trees and bright red berries and the ice cold wind. And the picture I have in my heart of how we can win the war at home with Polish, Danish, Spanish, English and maybe even German support.

I see Tristan jumping off a cliff, into the water, and my beautiful Lauren playing.

And these pictures of the war and of Tristan and La’tjie, playing and growing up should be what I see.

And the good friends I have who want my quest to be a success and the many families who depend on it.

And how I should be all I can be. Nothing less. And nothing more.

It now is very cold. I think its best if I sneak into town to try and get this letter to you.

Eben

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story of a dream

i remember the night.  at the table in the dining room.

we were all there.  we knew that there is no way out.  we needed a big break, but who will go?

one of those moments that you see from outside yourself.  you hear your own words.  see your mouth move.  feel your fist slams down on the wooden table.

the next thing you know, you feel the cold free state wind against your face.  rhythmic breathing of your horse as she speeds to durban harbour.

and liberation?

the journey is like a blur.  then you arrive. . . . in  Copenhagen.

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FAITH, INFERENCE AND REALITY

m_8cd0877bd00c4b8d92952dd4b7b8e874The most common experience of humans is probably the experience of consciousness.  We are self-aware, we are aware of others and we are able to think in abstract terms by thinking on behalf of a real or hypothetical “other”.  We construct thoughts that may or may not have any basis in reality.
 
A good example of this are geometric shapes.  For example, the triangle or the square – there are no examples in nature of a perfect triangle or a perfect square.  These concepts exist only in our mind.  In a hypothetical world.
 
This leads us to the question of reality.  How do we know what exists and what exists only in our mind?
 
What about the laws of nature?
 
Ariel Caticha and Carlo Cafaro from the Department of Physics at the University at Albany wrote a fascinating paper called “From Informal Geometry to Newtonian Dynamics” in which they examines the notion that physics are not laws of nature but rules of inference.
 
“The objective of this paper is to use well established principles of inference to derive Newtonian dynamics from relevant prior information codified into a statistical model.  The challenge, of course, is to accomplish this task without assuming what we want to derive.  One must not assume equations of motion or principles of least action, and in particular, one must not assume the concept of momentum and the associated phase space, and not even the notion of an absolute Newtonian time”.
 
The thesis that physics are not laws of nature but rules of inference struck me.
 
Is it possible for humans to reason without prior knowledge (real or assumed)?
 
My gut feel tells me that it is imposable!
 
So, when we reason, we base our reasoning on prior knowledge.  How fundamentally this is true of humans becomes evident from Caticha and Cafaro’s paper.  More fundamental than I ever thought!
 
But how do we know?
 
The proses is very simple.  We first believe. I believe that I will be in Cape Town later today climbing Table Mountain.  If my faith in what I am about to do is true, i.e. I actually go and climb Table Mountain, then I can look back and my faith will become knowledge.  True knowledge.  I did climb Table Mountain.
 
Since Sunday this week I have been suspecting that this is the mechanism for all human discovery.  We first believe.  Scientists may say that we present an hypothesis.  Then we observe.  We learn.  We test our theory.  Our faith.  If it proves to be true, it becomes knowledge and this knowledge becomes part of the matrix that we access when we reason.
 
Another very simple example:  A few weeks ago I decided to develop a new product.  Despite much opposition to my proposed product (many thought it was not doable), I believed that it was possible.  I would only know if my faith is true faith if I am able to make a success of the product.  Then my faith will turn into knowledge.
 
I had many other products in the past that I believed would work and now, years later I can look back and see how they failed.  In many instances my faith was proved false.  It did not translate into knowledge.  (Even though I learned many other things – my particular faith in the success of the specific products proved to be false-faith that could not be translated into the knowledge that “the products will work”).
 
The importance of this discovery lies in the fact that it exposes a fundamental aspect of human thought and as we understand human thought in general and human consciousness in particular, this leads to better design of systems around us.  Systems that we create because we are self aware and because we think in abstract terms and live in abstract worlds (the family or a nation).
 
My good co-explorer and myself have been frustrated for years now with the fact that our thinking of faith systems such as Christianity is done in negative terms.  We feel that we want to approach the matter of our existence in a positive light by answering the question “what is true life/ existence” as opposed to exploring the fact that Christianity represent a false system.  An example of false faith that leads to disinformation – no knowledge can come from Christianity since the faith proved to be false.
 
But it was my evaluation of Christianity that lead me to the knowledge that Christianity is based on presuppositions that are false which renders the entire system ultimately false.  This lead me to consider human though generally.  How much of our thinking are based on untested presuppositions?
 
This lead me to Caticha and Cafaro and their paper on inferences, which confirmed my “faith”/ suspicion that all of human reasoning are inferential in nature – even when we talk about “the laws of nature”!
 
As long as our evaluation of Christianity leads us to a deeper insight into the human mind and the rules we use to process data I think that it is and will remain a highly productive topic of discussion.
 
I would love to interview Mr’s Caticha and Cafaro and understand how their position influences their world-view!
 
We live in a world where very few things are truly in an absolute sense the way we perceive them!  There are some business people who build empires on this understanding!  Abraham and his descendants build at least two very influential (and FALSE) faith systems on this.  The United States will elect a new leader today based on it! 
 
The life we life is based on how we see things in our mind and faith is our hope and dreams that keep us moving forward on the march of progress.  Nothing more than that.  It is one spoke in the wheel of progress!
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IF SARAH PALIN LOSES, SHE’LL SHOOT THE ROBBEN ISLAND RABBITS

IF SARAH PALIN LOSES, SHE’LL SHOOT THE ROBBEN ISLAND RABBITS

The US election is over and the world waits in great anticipation for Mr. Obama to be the savior of all men, especially believers!

At the same time, the world has good reason to utter a collective sigh of relief for the fact that Sarah Palin did not come close to playing any significant role in US foreign policies.

I came across this delightful article in the South African Cape Times on the day of the results which I share with you with the authors permission.

Let me set the scene:

Viewed from Cape Town, South Africa

Robben Island, viewed from Cape Town, South Africa

Robben Island is a small Island just off the Cape Town coast that was home to the most notorious prison, established in 1961.  The most well know inmate was Nelson Mandela who spent 27 years of his life imprisoned on this island.  Shortly after Mandela’s release the prison was closed and turned into a Museum.

European Rabbis on Robben Island

European Rabbis on Robben Island

The island is also home to a population of around 10 000 European rabbits.  These rabbits are responsible for devastating the islands ecology and the museum management decided that most of the rabbits will be culled during November this year.


Tahrs on Table Mountain, Cape Town, South Africa

Tahrs on Table Mountain, Cape Town, South Africa

The second fact that you must know is that Cecil John Rhodes brought a number of Himalayan tahrs to Cape Town.  These tahrs escaped from the Cape Town zoo and flourished on the cliffs of Table Mountain in Cape Town.  For various reasons most of these animals were also culled, but a few elusive ones still roam the cliffs of Table Mountain.

Table Mountain, Cape own, South Africa

Table Mountain, Cape Town, South Africa

So, with this as a brief background, enjoy John Scott’s column.

BY JOHN SCOTT

IF SARAH PALIN LOSES, SHE’LL SHOOT THE ROBBEN ISLAND RABBITS

IT’S not yet official, but if John McCain loses the American presidential election, his running mate, Sarah Palin, has agreed to come to South Africa and shoot the Robben Island rabbits.

“Darn, I don’t think I would enjoy anything more,” she is reported to have said. “I’ve never been that far out of Alaska. It would make up for not getting to Washington.”

Her spokesperson said she hadn’t had much opportunity to shoot things during the election campaign, and felt that massacring thousands of rabbits would help to put American politics back into perspective.

“Sarah said having an itchy trigger finger is no use at all when they ask you questions about foreign relations with Russia — though living so close to that country, she knows better than most that the only good Ruskie is a dead one.”
The idea came to her advisers after a Quebec trickster claiming to be French president Nicolas Sarkozy asked her if she would like to go hunting baby seals with him. “That would be fun,” she responded in the call, which was broadcast on radio. “We could have a lot of fun together as we’re getting work done. We could kill two birds with one stone that way.”

Or a lot of baby seals with one club.

“But rabbits are more of a challenge,” explained the spokesperson. “They move around a lot and are much smaller targets than a moose. It will be a real test of the VP candidate’s marksmanship.”

He said the beauty of having Sarah shoot all the rabbits was that they had to be killed anyway, so she would be fostering international goodwill. She had hoped to meet Nelson Mandela on the island while waiting for her rifle to cool, and was disappointed to learn he had left several years ago.

Her spirits rose, however, when it was mentioned that the island also had a population of 150 fallow deer, two bontebok and about 20 springbok. “I ain’t sure what these bontebok and springbok are,” she confessed, “but doggone it, if they move I’ll shoot ‘em.”

It is alleged that CapeNature is looking around for other things that Palin might be invited to shoot, while she is at it. National Parks have been asked if they want her to seek out the last two remaining tahrs on Table Mountain and draw a bead on them.

There are also rabbits on Schaapen Island in the Langebaan Lagoon. For years they have happily hopped around among the duikers, but sooner or later this fraternisation must come to an end, and Sarah Palin, having had so much practice on Robben Island, may be viewed as the best Alaskan for the job.

Conservation authorities are aware that gunshots would frighten the birds.

“Perhaps Ms Palin wouldn’t mind butchering them in some more silent way,” one has suggested.
Her spokesperson says that won’t be a problem for someone who, even as a schoolgirl, helped her father tear a moose limb from limb.

“No second lady of the United States,” he said, “ever wrung a neck as well as she does.”

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life….what an amazing experience!

m_5bcf3c1938920869cdd94e8d632643f4in august i was ready to pack up everything in south africa and move to the americas to start a new adventure there. my family don’t insist that i live with them all the time and so, i have the unusual freedom of being 21 every year.

but the company that i worked for in johannesburg insisted that i give them at least another year in cape town to work on… well, whatever the hell i want to work on.

and so it happened that since August this year i have been working on a few food projects from cape town.

I developed two new food brands and a few product lines for every brand. the bottom end products for the mass african market are all import-based products. meat that i process here in cape town and will sell, but now, after the considerable effort that I expensed on bringing these products to life, I am unable to finally take them to market due to the fact that Brazil is unable (unwilling – ?) to supply me at all this year!

very, very frustrating!

the other brand is upmarket. these products are south african produced, but for various reasons supply is also a problem this year. and it seems the products were about a month to late to go to market. it is December and no retailer is in the mood to take on new lines.

very, very frustrating!

my client told me yesterday to go to the beach for the rest of the week :-) )

and then, out of the blue, the bountiful earth we live on and the rich relationships and channels to relationships we have started to feed my starving vanes with high-energy, oxygen enriched super blood!

out of the blue i met a few amazing poets on myspace. especially connie (Connie’s profile) and brett! (Brett’s profile)

iran_isfahan1 conny… an amazing published poet who did her phd research for 6 years in morocco. (Connie’s profile)

i read her poetry. i see her mind. i feel her emotions. my mind kept wondering back to her words, over and over and over again…repeating words and phrases from her poems.

her thoughts echoes with the deepest recesses of my soul!

as a child i dreamt about the middle-east and arab-lands and i was re-captivated! and she is the master kidnapper!

if connie is the sage, brett is the athlete!

i see connie reading her poetry in ancient palaces in istanbul, or in palaces in france.

vor11486_469x3131 but, brett (Brett’s profile) i imagine crossing the atlantic in a sail boat and reporting his experiences in poetry. connie is a sculpture of the english language with history and the beauty of the old and romantic; brett is the energy of a good national geographic documentary or the volvo ocean race. or a Joe Cocker or ACDC concert! his poems are crisp and powerful and engaging!

i love it!

when i was not reading great poetry, isabel matrins from recife in brazil were teaching me portuguese;

when i was not learning a new language i was trying to teach my son afrikaans so that he can pass the exam that he wrote yesterday!

if i wasnt doing that i was with julie in hospital where she had a very painful operation…

and if not that, i was planning with my friend, dawie (dawie’s profile) a new product we want to launch with the theme: “now that we are free from all religious and other crap; now that we have no absolute ax hanging over our heads – how then shall we live life to the full!?

as if that was not enough, i got an unexpected e-mail from another new friend of mine, AJ. a young man from south africa with some very definite thoughts on what it means to be alive! some great and amazing thoughts from a very talented young man!

the end of the week came and i am glad for every single moment i could live this past week!!

life….what an amazing experience!

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an african ghost story

africa

africa

 

very early in my life I learnt that there are things and there are underlying things.  underlying things are more fundamental than things.  things are (as in – they exist), they are the way they are (as in – form) and they work the way they work (as in – function) because of underlying things.

underlying things are sometimes just another layer of things and below these things you will find another layer of underlying things.

it is possible to drill down, layer after layer, until you reach the foundational realities upon which all of life is predicated.  the things that forms the foundation of everything!

this has been my life.  to search for the most fundamental thing.

as I look back at 2008, it has been the culmination of my life thus far.  the point where I achieved a conclusion to much of my search for the most fundamental thing which started from the age. . . oh, from as early as I can remember.

i chased the ghost of god, till I discovered that these three men that I admired most, the father, son and the holy ghost, took the last train for the coast. . . and on that day the church music died!

i chased the ghost of nationalism as a young afrikaans speaking south african, living in apartheid south africa.  but in the end the ghost of freedom and democracy killed my ghost and as nelson mandela completed his long walk to freedom, i saw the ghost of nationalism being locked up.

i briefly returned to the ghost of christianity, thinking that perhaps my particular branch of christianity was the problem and the real foundational truth is correctly delineated by conservative americal christianity.  but this ghost died as the bastions of inerrancy, inspiration and presuppositional apologetical methodologies came crushing down.

i wanted to serve a ghost! 

“dammit!!!! this is africa and here we worship!  give me something to worship!!”   - i cried!! 

so i turned to the ghost of reason and science.  and rationalism.  cold, dead rationalism!

i studied chemistry and mathematics and quantum mechanics and applied my new found reasonable tools to everything that i could find.  but inside i was dead and this god was even worst than the rest.  the church at least gave you coffee after the morning service, but this god did not care that i did not have coffee after the service. and so i became alone and in my deepest recesses of my being i yearned for coffee after the worship service!

and then i hit the bottom. . . and i realised that the bottom is what i have been searching for all my life.  to drill down as deep as we can go.

three ghosts appeared to me one night.

and i met trinity!  i did not recognise her by the white rabbit-tattoo on her shoulder.  but i recognised her.  she was the marix.  the system within which we all live and breath and have our being.

this system exist only in my mind. 

but the system was three systems running together as a whole that created my entire perception of reality.

one is the ghost of function and underlying principles.  the component parts that make up the whole.  this god called himself rene descartes!

the other ghost is the ghost of my interaction with myself and with everything that exist.  it is eben in the present tense.  it is eben seeing table mountain on a rainy day.  eben holding his little girl.  eben 3:00 am when the ghosts speak to me.  sun and rain and wind against my skin.  beauty and passion and sorrow and guilt and longing and my experience of the millions of powerful feedback loops that connects myself to everything that exist and that tells me – fuck man!  you are alive!!!!!

and i discovered a third ghost. as real as the other two. right at the bottom, called quality.  the ghost that causes simple living systems to evolve to more complex ones.  the ghost of faster, further, higher. 

it is the ghost that caused me to fall in love with the poetry of connie who simply do one thing with thought and language – she progresses! 

and warren buffet who progresses!

and eben who in his life desires to understand deeper and more fundamental and is never satisfied with the first answer!

and i realised that science and religion and communication and every other phenomena is build upon these three ghosts.

everything!

and a chapter in my life came to an end in 2008. 

i look at life and smile!

Posted in Faith, Hope, Hope and Love, life, love | 1 Comment

Perspective

Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa, is the mountain of my dreams.

It is one of the oldest mountains on earth. Six times older than the Himalayas and five times older than the Rockies.  It told me this itself!

I am no geologist but I am told that at around 800 million years ago, magma that was working its way to the surface of the earth hit some sedimentary deposits that stopped its march to the surface while still under water and granite was formed.

Water eroded the sediment that covered the granite. All this became part of a super continent of sorts. In fact, where I sit right now at the tip of what we today call Africa, was the middle of this super continent. Right centre of the whole dam thing!

But our chunk of granite was still at sea level, in the centre of the land-world-thingy magig and rivers started to dump more sediment on top of it. And so, soft sandstone layers formed on top of the granite.

Then the super continent started to break up and parts drifted away from Africa and South America broke off right at this chunk of granite, which is now stuck on the tip of Africa!

Huge forces started to play havoc with the earths crust! It was like rolling a piece of pizza doe! The pressure from the roller creates folds right in front of the roller, in the dough!

This, amazingly is what happened to the crust of the earth! Mountains were literally “folded” into existence!

This is easily observable where we live on the tip of Africa. One can see the folding right in front of ones eyes if you take no more than half an hours drive from Cape Town in ANY direction!

But our granite chunk was not about to be folded! It was way to strong and resisted. The energy had to go somewhere – so it went down and the granite chunk with its sandstone deposits sitting on top of it was lifted right out of the ground – forming a mountain more than 1000 meters above sea level!

Remember that the continent that drifter south and one drifted west from Africa and broke off right at this granite chunk.

Table Mountain was then right against the sea! And as the eternal, relentless waves crashed against the soft sandstone deposits covering our granite chunk, the face of the mountain was pulverized into a straight and impressive cliff face.

But I skipped over an important construction phase of my dream mountain. During the ice age, when the top of what later became Table Mountain was still level with the rest of the land, huge ice glaciers scraped over the soft sandstone – making the top flat.

And amazingly, deposits from these glaciers can still be seen at the summit of Table Mountain.

This is then how this amazing structure was created! One that is visited by more tourist every year than almost any other site on Africa!

Every week I climb this magnificent structure!

And every week I am amazed at the long time that it took to construct this mountain.

I am reminded that even this impressive structure is collapsing on itself as the storm winds and the persistent winter rain keeps on carving away at the mountain of my dreams!

I swear, at night when I sleep, the mountain talks to me!

Posted in life, love, south africa, table mountain | Leave a comment

THE EXPLOSIVE IDEA

The concept of the WORLD WIDE WEB is 20 years old this month.

The official CERN press release reads as follows:

March 2009: 20 years of the web Twenty years ago this month, something happened at CERN that would change the world forever: Tim Berners-Lee handed a document to his supervisor Mike Sendall entitled “Information Management : a Proposal”. “Vague, but exciting” is how Mike described it, and he gave Tim the nod to take his proposal forward. The following year, the World Wide Web was born.

MEET TIM BERNERS-LEE at CERN

It is probably fair to say that this is the single invention directly responsible for making more people millionaires than any other in the history of human kind!

Multi million Dollar industries exist because of it and every single industry around the world has been profoundly impacted by it.

My friendship with almost every single one of you are based directly upon Tim’s innovation.

This morning a friend of mine posted a superb poem on his MySpace site.  I in turn posted a link to his poem to my facebook site.

Within hours of my posting of the link a guy from India commented that joined my site out of the blue last week.

Here we have a South African in Cape Town, sharing a poem from a guy in America and it is read by amongst other a guy in India!

As I was thinking about this, I realized that the www is a concept that is more powerful than the atomic bomb.  The Bomb destroy vast numbers of people in the blink of and eye.  The www units people from around the world in the blink of an eye around poetry.

AMAZING!!!!

Posted in history, mythology | 4 Comments

Towards a better world – lessons from AFRICA about sustainability:

South African Farmer

- the ideology of “best practices”

The relationship between the developed West, the newly developed countries and the third world has always been strained. The strain is in large due to a clash of ideologies. The clash in ideologies is in turn due to the fact that each society finds itself on a different cultural and economic development trajectory.

There is a further complicating reality that there is no single developmental trajectory, but this is another matter altogether that will be considered at a later stage.

Let’s focus our attention firstly on the existence of different ideologies.

It is ideologies that carry “development” and before we understand “development”, we must first understand the carrier of developmental culture through ideologies.

The first point to remember is that the development of ideologies happens primarily internally. Each country can be seen as a small, largely closed system. It feeds back into its wider environment such as regional neighbors, their economies and cultures, and secondly, even further into the wider world economy and culture.

The reality is that countries develop ideologies internally in the first place.  There are profound influences from outside, but each country internalize these influences.  The fact is that when an American talks about democracy and an African talks about democracy, they very often talk about two completely different realities.  The concept of democracy has been re-defined in Africa in terms of itself.

So, even though there are profound influences from the world that feeds into any country or region,  each system, each country, is not totally open and a myriad of barriers cause ideological development to happen first and foremost internally, irrespective and completely apart from ideological developments in the wider world.

In this process, ideology is of the utmost importance. It is ideology that drives the actions of countries. Ideologies such as democracy, socialism, capitalism, as defined internally in each country despite the fact that ideologies like “democracy” looks completely different in China, India, the USA, Iraq and Afghanistan, just to mention a few examples.

Some people take these differences as a mere curiosity. No more than a dinner conversation topic. To be given no more than a partial consideration before we move on to more pressing and immediate matters.

But if anybody wants to influence development they should not only understand the importance of ideologies, but that there is no “universal” ideology. Ideologies are local and it is an exercise in futility to try and impose any local ideology onto other regions.

Before change can happen, a local ideology must be developed that will solve the problem, but before THAT can happen, the local problems must be thoroughly understood.

The company Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd is a company that seeks to re-examine and re-design supply systems from a local perspective. From producers, through the processing of the food, its distribution through the most effective channels to the markets and in the end the pick up of the products by consumers.

Woody’s seeks to assist farmers to produce food in a sustainable way, both financially and in terms of the impact of the farming activity on the environment. Then to distribute the food along channels that represent responsible earth-citizenship, and finally to deliver the products to the end-consumer at the lowest possible price.

In order to develop these new processes, Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd realizes that it must first of all assist in the development of new local ideologies that will effectively address local problems.

The biggest obstacle in this process of re-examining and developing new, local ideologies, is overcoming and neutralizing some of the incorrect and counter-productive ideologies that are being imposed upon any society by others – mostly developed countries.

The first critical consideration is the world wide concept of “international best practices”.

“Best practices” is something that company executives like to write into mission and vision statements.   But as  Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd interacts with local farmers and food processors across Africa, it had to confront the concept of “best practices”.

“Best Practices” is one of those ideological cornerstones that is defined by developing countries and then preached to developing and third world countries. It is a premise that is very hard to argue against since this concept carries with it the inherent claim that it represents the “better option”. And who will not choose a “better option”?

One example of such a “best practices” concept is that of HACCP, a food safety standard that is sweeping the food processing industry.

Wikipedia defines HACCP as follows: “Hazard Analysis and Critical Control Points (HACCP) is a systematic preventive approach to food safety and pharmaceutical safety that addresses physical, chemical, and biological hazards as a means of prevention rather than finished product inspection.

HACCP is used in the food industry to identify potential food safety hazards, so that key actions, known as Critical Control Points (CCP’s) can be taken to reduce or eliminate the risk of the hazards being realized. The system is used at all stages of food production and preparation processes including packaging, distribution, etc.”

Very few people will argue with the lofty principles of HACCP or its relevance around the world. But as Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd starts to realize, HACCP and similar “best practices” standards has its limits and its relevance is limited to the environments (countries) where they have been developed.

I don’t want to make this a discussion about the merits of HACCP, but a few examples of the shortcomings of HACCP will illustrate my point very well.

HACCP is a very expensive system to implement and maintain. The fact is that many food processing facilities around the world that are not HACCP compliant produce food that is perfectly safe for human consumption and have been for years, without the expensive HACCP system.

The result is that these non-HACCP, but safe, processing plants produce food at much lower cost to the consumers, yet the mindless application of HACCP and the misguided perception that HACCP represents the “best practice” in food processing, is forcing an increasing number of these plants to convert to the HACCP system. This leads to an increase in food cost to consumers as the processing cost increases.

It is easy to see how HACCP was developed from good intensions in a desire to increase general food-safety standards in a framework that will be self-regulatory. Like ISO.

Logically, one can see how this system came about in an over-regulated Western context where there are more lawyers per capita then there has ever been in the history of the world. In fact, there are not just more lawyers than ever before – there are more graduates generally. “Regulation” is an easy object for a graduate to spend energy on and it is easy to see how and why greater regulation comes out of wealthy societies.

But, after years of work in Africa, Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltdis seeing how the blind application of “best practices”, like HACCP, may have far-reaching detrimental consequences in other countries.

Even though Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltdhas not formally studied the impact of the application of a system like HACCP on the wider economy of developing and Third World countries, it is not aware of one single example where the application of HACCP has lead to lower food cost and a greater access to markets by small-scale farmers.

The fact is that it has numerous examples of exactly the opposite. Food processing plants that have produced food for local communities over many years without any food-safety incident are being forced to adopt HACCP as a system and the results is an increase in cost of production. If they refuse the conversion to HACCP, access to distribution channels is under threat.

Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltdis therefore calling for a radical re-think of the concept of “best practices”. What is seen as “best practices” in the US can in no way be seen as “best practices” in other countries. The concept of “best practices” must itself be re-defined in terms of a local context.

Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Lt is not suggesting that there should be different standards between the developed countries and the third world. Rather than suggesting different standards it is suggesting an objective evaluation of every industry in every different country on its own merits. In addition to this it is asking for a re-think of the entire prevailing almost blind belief in “best practices”.

If Western Countries want to assist developing countries or Third World countries, they must not send evangelists and preachers who will try and “convert” other countries to their “best practices”. What is needed are problem-solvers. People with the ability to create solutions, not in terms of what works in first world countries, but in terms of the local context.

Preaching – apart from being offensive, the content of these “sermons” is mostly absurd nonsense in terms of the different environments it is being preached in. If anybody is interested in real change and development, they must be prepared to re-think, re-evaluate and re-solve problems in terms of their local context first and foremost and then, from a local perspective, fit it into a regional and finally a global context.

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Eben van Tonder is the founder of  Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd and shares his thoughts about the development of new business thinking for the developing world.

Posted in Africa, Best Practice, Food, Food Safety, Free Trade, mythology | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Reasons I believed in the Christian God – a mechanical evaluation

May 2009 294

Christianity and the phenomena of religion interest me.

It seems like one of the most contradictory aspects of life on earth.  On the one hand it seems like a supremely influential components of every day life and on the other hand it contradict almost every other experience.

People sit in church and affirm beliefs they hold to without a single shred of evidence apart from very personal experiences that can legitimately be interpreted in many other ways apart from the god-hypotheses.  Still they affirm Christianity as “truth” based on a certain set of assumptions.

Then, they get in their cars and drive home and every single decision they make from the time they walk out the church doors are predicated upon a completely different set of assumptions.

Even more intriguing is the fact that the assumptions that allow them to call Christianity “truth” and the assumptions they use when they for example select a restaurant to go to after church are mutually exclusive.

This seeming paradox is of HUGE interest.

PART 1

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A few months ago I worked through The Religious Case Against Belief by James P. Carse.  Carse is a master at analyzing religion from a fresh, new perspective.  It is one of the most refreshing discussions on religion and belief available.

I mention Carse because he offers in my view one of the best descriptions of the characteristics of faith and religion and before anybody commit to any of the faiths of the world I suggest that they first read Carse.

His insights de-mystify much of the god-hypothesis and are a useful first step for anybody thinking about the “why” behind the god-hypothesis and religion.

Why do people believe in god?

I am in Cape Town and these questions dont want to let go of me.

The weather bureau warned that the first storm for the winter was on its way.  It would hit the Cape Peninsular by the week-end of 15 May 2009.

By Thursday the sky was ominously black.  All was quite.  The clouds started to take on some strange shapes.  Seagulls flew more nervously.

Friday night the rain started.

Tristan, my 11 year old son, had a rugby match the next morning.  When Julie tried to get us all ready to go to the match I protested that its going to rain and they would never make the kids play in this storm.

She tried to get hold of the coordinator from school.  No luck.

We made it to the rugby fields.  Not even the match convener showed up, thinking that no parent in his or her right mind would think that ANY match could be plaid.

But it was a beautifully stormy day in Cape Town and we decided to take a drive around the Peninsular.

As we wound our way down to the historical town of Simons Town on the M3 past the back of Table Mountain, I was thinking . . .

Religion and Christianity is nothing more than cultural expressions.  Superstitious beliefs.

Humans develop faster when we do it collectively.

Some humans always think about “better” systems.  Things that will make our society function better.  These people then packaged these “better systems” and sell it to the rest of the humans.  They package it as ideologies.

We experiment a bit with the ideologies and if it works we adopt it into our large cultural practices.  Some set out again to develop better social systems, usually parallel to the development of technology.  Again the new ideas are packaged into ideologies and experimented with.  And on and on the cycle goes. . .

Take any of our great social institutions like democracy and capitalism and even something like short-term insurance.

Also, consider some of our great social experiments like communism, fascism and slavery.

The systems that “worked” survived.

In a similar way people thought about unseen “powers”.  It is evident from history that the ideas of these “powers” were developed into the concept of different “gods” and later developed by some into the concept of one supreme “god”.

The reason for these developments had nothing to do with the question of the ultimate purpose in life (why are we here?).  For the earliest people, the concept of “powers” and later of gods and even later of one god had to do with every day survival.  About crops failing or yielding.  People getting better after a sick-bed or dying.  Bread and butter issues.

Less than 100 years ago the people in the small North Free State Farm where my grandfather was a farmer thought that God caused his crops to fail because he bought modern tractors and  did not plow his fields the way the good lord intended it to be plowed using plow and oxen.

The god-hypothesis was a cultural development.  Something that exist purely in human thought.

Nowhere in nature do we have an example of any animal responding to any god-concept.

It is people who look at natural events and explain it with the god-hypothesis.  It is not nature that bows itself before god and causes humans to come to no other conclusion except that there is a god.

So, the first important consideration in the “why” behind faith is that the concept is cultural.  Its development can be traced historically.  It is a system that started out as a way for us to “manage” and explain nnatural systems such as weather systems.

PART 2

We stopped just past Simons Town on the side of the road for breakfast.  Breadrolls and chips.  It drizzled slightly.

When we drove past Cape Point, it started to rain and the wind picked up. The big storm was definitely about to hit!

We drove on to Scarborough where we turned to the beach.

The "big picture"

the "big picture"

Cape Penninsular

Cape Penninsular

Soetwater beach

Soetwater (Sweet Water) Beach

Scarborough is definitely one of my most favorite places on earth! It is far from Cape Town. Undeveloped. Few people. Unspoiled.

The wind was ice cold. The sea was rough.

I could not resist and I walked into the sea.

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The water was warmer than I am used to at Sea Point where freezing cold sea currents converge.

May 2009 301

For a second I forgot about the business that I am getting off the ground with a friend of mine from the United States and the question about faith.

After splashing around in the water for a while, we drove a few kilometers past Misty Beach to Soetwater (Sweet Water) and I spotted a few surfers with wetsuits in the huge storm swells.

The temptation was too much! We stopped and I joined them. I looked towards Scarborough and the majestic cliffs of the Table Mountain range forming an amazing backdrop to the small little town and the amazing waves and the breathtaking sea.

With humungous waves breaking over me I was thinking that this is the most beautiful site on earth and I am the luckiest man alive!

As I swam in a very stormy sea, the thought hits me that the concept of “purpose” and “design” is a question that only makes sense to the human mind.

A much as the concept of god has absolutely basis in reality apart from our superstitions, so the question of our purpose on earth is something that is meaningless outside its cultural context.  Like the question of God, it is NOT something that comes to us from nature.

The church loves to bring up this question as a reason of the “why” of Christianity.  As if Christianity is the only rational answer to the “why” of life itself!

In answering the Christian claim that Christianity is the answer to the “why” of life I have always asked the counter question that there is no reason why Christianity should be the answer to the “why” of life and not any of the other religions of the world.

Even if one would concede that there may be a god, why should god be the Christian god?  No Christian can give a proper answer to this.  The Christian faith itself can not deal with it.

Their reply is always that they know this in their hearts.  That somehow the Holy Spirit revealed this to them and that they don’t have to give a rational answer to the question.  Everybody from every cult and faith throughout history has always claimed the same and the answer remains a nonsensical and self contradictory one.

It occurred to me that the question of the “why” of life is itself a cultural phenomenon.  Like Christianity and faith itself.

It means absolutely nothing to the sea.  The cliffs around me.  The trillions upon trillions of molecules combining and reacting with each other throughout the universe.

Even the word “purpose” and “design” have no meaning outside the human mind.  These are only models we use to describe a process (itself a model) that we perceive with our senses and that we can compute with our minds.

The fact that a system exists is not proof that the system was designed or has a purpose in the sense that we think about “intelligent purpose”.

The fact that we speak is no proof that speech was “intended” no more than the fact that a bird sits on a branch is evidence that the bird was intended or made for “sitting on the branch”.  The fact that we exist is not proof that we were intended to exist.

At the same time it occurred to me that if there are any significant discovery as to the “why” behind life and if this should ever become a relevant question to ask, this would probably be discovered by the people who are looking for answers and not the people who are satisfied that they have discovered the answer.  In other words, Christians who believe they already have the answer would probably NOT be the ones to discover this.

I wondered if scientists would for example discover one day that the universe is governed by a completely different set of “rules” that exist outside our universe, of which our universe and its laws is a mere by-product; and if science will discover that behind this “different set of rules” is a life form that exist as a result of realities that are so different that only people who transform and become one of these life forms can ever understand it – then science will have discovered the ultimate answer to life, death and everything.  The anwer to the “why” behind our existance.

But we must first understand that even the above statement is predicated upon a model of cause-and-effect and as useful as this model may be at the current point in time, it is only a model.

The fact that we have the model and the fact that the model is useful does not mean that the model is true in the sense that it has some kind of “independant existance”.

The first observation must still be that cause-and-effect is only a model.  It IS NOT TRUTH in any absolute sense.

Human thought and human culture does not determine reality. The fact that we ask a question does not mean that it is a valid question.

PART 3

May 2009 308

Tristan is standing on the beach watching me swim.  He signals to me that it’s about to start raining again.  When I look up the sky is blacker than it was a few minutes before.

I start running out of the water.  “T” covers himself with my jacket, but the rain comes down as spiky arrows that sting your skin.  It “really” starts to rain and “T” and I run!

When we get to the car its still raining.  “T” is drenched from the rain.  Julie and Lauren are waiting in the car.  I put on a T-Shirt and another jacket and we start driving back to Cape Town.

I try to get my mind off the cold . . .

I realize that the concept of faith has been one of the most irrelevant matters in the history of the world.

Take matters of marriage for example.  Thousands of years ago one man had many wives.  That morality changed over time – within one system of faith and one family of faiths.  People gravitated to monogamy and this became the morality.

Another example is the large wars that were fought over the last few hundred years.  The American Revolution, the First and Second World War.  Christianity had absolutely NO impact on any of the thousands upon thousands of people who commissioned these wars, despite the facts that they all professed the same faith.

Millions upon millions of churchgoing faithful went to war with each other!  Christianity and faith did not matter one bit.

The treatment of the Jews and slavery demonstrates to us that Christianity did not have any effect on these social ideologies in any shape or form.  Economics and superstition played a much more dominant role.  Christianity was not influential enough to stop the slaughtering of millions of people.

IN THE MIX of influences upon cultural developments it may have some bearing, but its major role has definitely changed from a means by which we try and manage crop failure and matters of health to the primary way that we as humans manage our superstitions.

It explains why people who go to church and call themselves Christian can be biologists for example.  Christian beliefs have been and are becoming more and more irrelevant.

Its winter.  Its stormy.  As we turn into the street where we live its starts raining big time!!!!!.  HEAVY rain!  We sprint into the home, leaving all our junk still in the car.  We will get it when the rain stops.

I am FREEZING cold and have mild hypothermia.  I open the taps to the bath, strip down and get in the hot water.  My skin burns read in the hot water, but my body registers the heat and welcomes it.

I soak in the warm water . . .  and as I do another thought hits me. . . .

I think about human thought.

It can not be that our human thought is disconnected from the environment.  I have long suspected that this may be one of the reasons for the usefulness of mathematics.  I am sure it is not the full story, but I suspect it plays a role.

It is safe to say that what we understand as “development” and “progression” and “ordering” are inadequate labels that we give to a process that we have only partial glimpses of with our human mind, our primitive mental models and our limited five senses.

There is little doubt with me that we will one day understand how we develop language, grammar and comprehension.  There is also little doubt in my mind that the developmental path of language, grammar and comprehension has its basis in the material world we find around us.

But even if the developmental path of language gives us a clue of its origins, it still does not mean that language or comprehension or abstract thought is limited to the world where it originated from.  Thought may be “from” somewhere and become “more than” where it originates from.

Living system is always more than its constituent parts or its origins.  It will be “like”, but it will at the same time probably always be “more than”.

This means that even the question of “intelligent design” is a very natural question to ask.  Even if there is no intelligent reason behind the development of human thought, it seems to be consistent with the process of thought to ask the question – if we purpose, is there not a probability that we have been purposed as well?

But this question comes from the matrix of human thought.  We ask this question because of three reasons:

-  we have the ability to purpose ourselves;

-  secondly, we are conscious of this process;

-  and thirdly, the question is something that is not inconsistent with the matrix of human thought.

There is absolutely no evidence that we ask the question because of anything we find in nature.  In the same way as we have no evidence that animals or rocks “worship” a god or responds to a god-force (as Christians claim without any basis for the claim), in exactly the same way we have no evidence of purpose besides the three factors that we have mentioned above.

Let’s assume something interesting to illustrate the point.  Let’s assume that our minds evolve over time and that we become capable of observing more about our world than we do with our five senses and that we develop a new matrix that will manage the interaction with this new perceived world (what else is our current thought than a process that manages our social interaction and our interaction with our world through our senses).

And let’s call this super-thought, based on super-perception.  And let’s assume that in this new matrix we work with a better model of reality than cause-and-effect.

There will be no god and there will be no “purpose” in that world and it will be completely “natural”.

This example illustrates how the matrix of thought governs and limits activity within that matrix.  We are slaves to our matrix of thought.

It demonstrates how we will never be able to function outside the matrix.  But, on the other hand, it also illustrates that it is possible to look at any system like Christianity and to go to the matrix and say without any shadow doubt that in terms of the matrix claimed by the system of Christianity and in terms of the matrix of human thought generally, the system of Christianity is not a possible description of life, death and everything.

Human thought itself is so new and so young – and all indications are that in a few hundred years from now we will no longer have the scourge of religion or faith with us.

I get out of the bath.  The wind is howling outside!  I drink some lemon juice and coffee.

The whole experience of the last few days leaves me invigorated.  The salt taste of the water in my mouth, the gigantic waves breaking over me, the freezing cold wind against my skin, the richness of the amazing questions we can contemplate, the warm water, the coffee.

I am amazed by life!

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SUCCESS

Pre-Reconstruction Rubble of Frauenkirche and Statue of Martin Luther in Dresden, Germany.  It was bombed by the Allied Forces in WWII.  I did not take the pic, but this is how I saw it when I visited Dresden in 1991

 

What is success in life?

Is it achieving unparalleled success with ones career?  Being an innovator?  Doing what few others will ever be able to do?

Erwin Johannes Eugen Rommel was born on 15 November 1891. During his life he developed as a military strategist of note. He was a son who made his family, community and country proud. This is the man who during WW II, due to exceptional skill in Africa, was nicknamed the “Desert Fox”.

 

He was one of the greatest German Generals who ever lived.

But, the problem is that whatever he achieved, he achieved during an unfortunate place and during and unfortunate time in history – Germany at war. . .

He was one of Hitler’s Generals – but unlike most of Hitler’s Generals, Rommel was by all accounts also a decent human being.

He was SO decent that he was involved in the plot to kill Hitler.

Hitler did not take very kind to this and plotted to plan German War-Hero.

He sent some Gestapo soldiers to Rommel’s house with orders to kill him and his family if they try to resist the chilling choice that Hitler was about to give Rommel.

Let’s give Rommel’s son¸ Manfred a chance to tell the story (taken from:  www.eyewitnesstohistory.com):

Manfred enters the house and we pick up the story as he recalls: “ . . .I arrived at Herrlingen at 7:00 a.m. My father was at breakfast. A cup was quickly brought for me and we breakfasted together, afterwards taking a stroll in the garden.

‘At twelve o’clock to-day two Generals are coming to discuss my future employment,’ my father started the conversation. ‘So today will decide what is planned for me; whether a People’s Court or a new command in the East.’

‘Would you accept such a command,’ I asked.

He took me by the arm, and replied: ‘My dear boy, our enemy in the East is so terrible that every other consideration has to give way before it. If he succeeds in overrunning Europe, even only temporarily, it will be the end of everything which has made life appear worth living. Of course I would go.’

Shortly before twelve o’clock, my father went to his room on the first floor and changed from the brown civilian jacket which he usually wore over riding-breeches, to his Africa tunic, which was his favorite uniform on account of its open collar.

At about twelve o’clock a dark-green car with a Berlin number stopped in front of our garden gate. The only men in the house apart from my father, were Captain Aldinger [ Rommel's aide] , a badly wounded war-veteran corporal and myself. Two generals – Burgdorf, a powerful florid man, and Maisel, small and slender – alighted from the car and entered the house. They were respectful and courteous and asked my father’s permission to speak to him alone. Aldinger and I left the room. ‘So they are not going to arrest him,’ I thought with relief, as I went upstairs to find myself a book.

A few minutes later I heard my father come upstairs and go into my mother’s room. Anxious to know what was afoot, I got up and followed him. He was standing in the middle of the room, his face pale. ‘Come outside with me,’ he said in a tight voice. We went into my room. ‘I have just had to tell your mother,’ he began slowly, ‘that I shall be dead in a quarter of an hour.’ He was calm as he continued: ‘To die by the hand of one’s own people is hard. But the house is surrounded and Hitler is charging me with high treason. ‘ “In view of my services in Africa,” ‘ he quoted sarcastically, ‘I am to have the chance of dying by poison. The two generals have brought it with them. It’s fatal in three seconds. If I accept, none of the usual steps will be taken against my family, that is against you. They will also leave my staff alone.’

‘Do you believe it?’ I interrupted. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I believe it. It is very much in their interest to see that the affair does not come out into the open. By the way, I have been charged to put you under a promise of the strictest silence. If a single word of this comes out, they will no longer feel themselves bound by the agreement.’

I tried again. ‘Can’t we defend ourselves…’ He cut me off short. ‘There’s no point,’ he said. ‘It’s better for one to die than for all of us to be killed in a shooting affray. Anyway, we’ve practically no ammunition.’ We briefly took leave of each other. ‘Call Aldinger, please,’ he said.

Aldinger had meanwhile been engaged in conversation by the General’s escort to keep him away from my father. At my call, he came running upstairs. He, too, was struck cold when he heard what was happening. My father now spoke more quickly. He again said how useless it was to attempt to defend ourselves. ‘It’s all been prepared to the last detail. I’m to be given a state funeral. I have asked that it should take place in Ulm. [a town near Rommel's home] In a quarter of an hour, you, Aldinger, will receive a telephone call from the Wagnerschule reserve hospital in Ulm to say that I’ve had a brain seizure on the way to a conference.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I must go, they’ve only given me ten minutes.’ He quickly took leave of us again. Then we went downstairs together.

We helped my father into his leather coat. Suddenly he pulled out his wallet. ‘There’s still 150 marks in there,’ he said. ‘Shall I take the money with me?’

‘That doesn’t matter now, Herr Field Marshal,’ said Aldinger.

My father put his wallet carefully back in his pocket. As he went into the hall, his little dachshund which he had been given as a puppy a few months before in France, jumped up at him with a whine of joy. ‘Shut the dog in the study, Manfred,’ he said, and waited in the hall with Aldinger while I removed the excited dog and pushed it through the study door. Then we walked out of the house together. The two generals were standing at the garden gate. We walked slowly down the path, the crunch of the gravel sounding unusually loud.

As we approached the generals they raised their right hands in salute. ‘Herr Field Marshal,’ Burgdorf said shortly and stood aside for my father to pass through the gate. A knot of villagers stood outside the drive…

The car stood ready. The S.S. driver swung the door open and stood to attention. My father pushed his Marshal’s baton under his left arm, and with his face calm, gave Aldinger and me his hand once more before getting in the car.

The two generals climbed quickly into their seats and the doors were slammed. My father did not turn again as the car drove quickly off up the hill and disappeared round a bend in the road. When it had gone Aldinger and I turned and walked silently back into the house…

Twenty minutes later the telephone rang. Aldinger lifted the receiver and my father’s death was duly reported.

It was not then entirely clear, what had happened to him after he left us. Later we learned that the car had halted a few hundred yards up the hill from our house in an open space at the edge of the wood. Gestapo men, who had appeared in force from Berlin that morning, were watching the area with instructions to shoot my father down and storm the house if he offered resistance. Maisel and the driver got out of the car, leaving my father and Burgdorf inside. When the driver was permitted to return ten minutes or so later, he saw my father sunk forward with his cap off and the marshal’s baton fallen from his hand.”

Yesterday was the first time I heard this account. And I realized that despite everything that Rommel may have achieved in his many war-exploits, that afternoon in the woods in Herrlingen may have been Rommels finest hour!

In October 1944, Erwin Johannes Eugen Rommel did something extraordinary.  The German General gave his life for something he believed in.  He did not sacrifice his life for any of the modern ideologies like democracy and “freedom”. But for the age old “ideology” of family!

He died a remarkable man!

Posted in history, Hope, Hope and Love, politics | Leave a comment

Story of an African family

All off a sudden I hate Cape Town! One of the most beautiful places on Earth, but it is winter. Extremely wet, extremely cold and I am extremely sick – constantly!

I know that I must get the hell out of here. But the business that Dawie and I started is precariously perched on the point between success and failure and it requires my 100% attention. I know I will have to be here at least until the end of August.

As I get interested in leaving, all of a sudden I find myself drawn to my origins. I am glad, in a sense – at least it is something that I can do while I lie in bed.

On my father’s side the family originated from a small town called Tonderen in the South of Denmark. Some of the people from Tonderen migrated to Holland. In 1650 a boy was born in Holland to one of these families. They called him Andries Cornelisz van Tonder. Andries became a miller, moved to the Cape of Good Hope and on 31 August 1700 he became a Cape citizen.

I know what life must have been like for Andries. Life in Cape Town is much like life in Europe, wet and cold. Every time it starts to rain I get unbelievable sinus headaches; my lungs fill up with shit and I don’t stop coughing until the weather clears.

The headaches persist night and day!

Church in Tonder, Denmark

By this time, I want to chop off my head!! But then I feel the distant throbbing pain of a wound that has still not healed completely in my right armpit.

Three weeks ago a surgeon cut at least three inches wide and deep into me to drain an abscess – and I decide to leave my head where it is. I stay in bed. I remember some religious reason for the people from Tonder to spread across Europe.

As I recall, they came to South Africa due to the persecution from the Catholic Church (they were protestants). I have always regretted the fact that my family comes from very strict protestant background.

I admire the Catholics for their spirit and ability to really enjoy life without an over sensitive sense of morality. But I am not in the mood for considering my religious heritage today. I don’t feel well and I don’t have wine! And before one considers faith, you must make sure you feel well and have LOTS of alcohol handy!!!!

A much more interesting family comes from my mother’s side. Her surname is Kok. It comes from Middle German/ Dutch meaning “chef”. It was high fashion at some point in Germany to call yourself “Chef” or, “Kok”, “de Kock”, “Kogh” or anything like that if you were a chef and the surname stuck.

In 1745 JOHANN HEINRICH CHRISTOPH KOCH arrived at the Cape of Good Hope on a ship from Holland, the Weltevreden, employed by the Dutch United East Indian Company (VOC), as a mercenary.

Dutch United East Indian Company Logo
Dutch United East Indian Company Logo

JHC Kok turns out to be one of my great-great-great-great grandfathers and he grew up in an area in Germany called Waldeck. As soon as I read about him I felt that I could like this guy.

I can easily imagine him as a regular guy. Much like the rest of my cousins and brothers. He would have fit right in.

The kids all got together on the Northern Free State Farm during the school holidays. We wrestled constantly; rode horses; swam in the farm dams; shot birds; set the veld on fire; hypnotized the chickens; fished in the streams and rivers; built forts in old gold-trenches. Jip, he would have been “one of us”.

But How did he end up in South Africa as a mercenary? For the answer we must return to Waldeck in Germany.

Waldeck was a semi-independent region and part of the Holy Roman Empire during this time. Much cross-pollination happened between the different aristocratic families in Europe (and I mean this in the most pornographic sense of the word – and I am sure this was the case with the local prince – mr. KAF – he knew people – especially the DUTCH!!!).

Karl August Friedrich (September 24, 1704 – August 29, 1763) was the ruling prince in the Waldeck and Pyrmont-area when JHC was living. The Waldeck’s had a proud history of military service in the Dutch Army and in 1740 Karl August Friedrch created the 1st and 2nd Battalion of mercenaries in Waldeck – only 5 years before JHC Kok arrived in Cape Town as a mercenary.

Karl’s mercenaries would serve at almost all the flash points that the Dutch had to deal with as the VOC (United East Indian Company) was trying desperately to try and keep control over their vast assets during the spice wars of this time.

Later, he would contribute large forces to American and South African campaigns.

Karl August Friedrich was so influential in Holland that he commanded the Dutch army during some key campaigns and in 1746 he became Field Marshal of the Holy Empire.

So, the 1700’s that saw JHC coming to the Cape of Good Hope was a time of change and he was probably on board the Weltevreden, as an employee of the VOC, hired from the good friend of the Dutch, Karl August Friedrich.

The VOC was the largest company of its day and probably the first truly multi-national. They fought wars, issued currencies and had vast territories under their control

VOC HO in  Amsterdam

VOC HO in Amsterdam

The company was created in 1602 in response to an outdated trading monopoly held by the Portuguese. The company’s sole goal was to manage the vast resources of spices from the Far East.

This time was probably one of the most successful times for the VOC that was finally liquidated in 1800. The General Motors of its day ceased to exist in the same way that Microsoft and Apple will probably one day cease to exist as the technologies that predicated their founding become obsolete.

It is interesting to me as I think about JHC’s coming to Cape Town and how so much of the cross currents that form our lives are mega-movements that have little to do with our personal aspirations, goals or acts of God.

I think of my brothers and cousins. We are all descendants of people whose lives were directly shaped by the times they lived in. We are the result of them doing the best they could in the time they lived.

As I think of my brothers and cousins, I realize that each one of us has been directly and profoundly affected by the environment we live in. Generations to come will be able to look back at our lives and link the choices we make today and the places we end up at, directly to the large scale movement of politics and economics of our time. And our greatest success, as a family and even wider, as the human race, is probably the fact that we manage to go on. No matter the challenge.

Posted in Family History, kok, van tonder, waldeck | 13 Comments

what were the Van Tonder’s thinking??



The Cape of Good Hope

I am wondering about the development of modern human history and the things that shaped our world to be the way it is.

This is my general experience of life:

I fight my way through the swamp called life with great commitment. I look up momentarily and see the bright blue sky!  Hope and belief stirs – there IS beauty and fulfillment in this life!

The thought sits for only a moment before I realize that my leg is stuck in drift sand in the dam swamp! To stay alive I must keep
moving. It’s life.

My mind races. I try to decipher the hidden code that will swing open the swamp’s (prison) doors and all of a sudden the swamp will be gone and I will stand in full sunlight on my favorite beach during a glorious afternoon – a stunning woman next to me in a sexy bikini.

Oh, it’s all a bit melodramatic, but it reads well.

My thoughts on modern human development are precipitated by my looking into the history of my ancestors and how we ended up in South Africa.

The Van Tonder’s originate waaaaaaay back from a small town in Denmark, called Tonder.



City of Tonder in Denmark

The story, as far as I have it, is that due to religious reasons, many of the town’s people migrated to Holland where they adopted the surname “Van Tonder”, meaning, “from Tonder”.  They were NOT Catholics!

During the late 16th and early 17th century, the town Tonder became
German and the territory part of the Holy Roman Empire.

The Holy Roman Empire was a federation-of-sorts of territories, city’s and small independent states in Central Europe that existed from around 962 to 1806 when Napoleon decided that enough is enough!!!!!
Banner of the Holy Roman Empire

The Empire was neither HOLY, nor Roman, but had an association with the Roman Catholic Church. It was more German and Central European.

The relationship with the Roman Catholic Church became extremely strained – especially when the Reformation sprang up in the heart of the Empire under the leadership of Luther, Calvin et al. The Reformation is generally regarded to have begun in 1517 and ended around 1648.

The reformation lead to greater conflict with the Catholic Church and a push to reduce Rome’s influence in the Empire. During and just
following this time, thousands of people fled the Empire and the UK in
search of a new life in the new worlds of the time.

Notably, they came to the United States of America, but also to places
like South Africa around 1671, with its strong Dutch influence.  This is when the Van Tonders left Holland for South Africa and for greater personal freedom.

That gives a super-boring historical background!

FAR more important than just the dates, places and surnames are the thoughts of the people of these times. What were the
issues that they discussed as they sailed from Europe to South Africa?

Several cross currents converged at this critical point in Central
Europe.

These cross-currents were all aligned around one profound thought – that of re-organization. Well. . . actually – NO, not just re-organization! Progression of thought! Profound progression!

The development of a living system is closely linked to the efficiency of the feedback mechanisms in the system that feed results about the systems efficiency back to the system itself which allows the system to develop in-line with its environment.

One mega trend of the time was the passing of a major economic system in favor of a more effective one.

For many years, basic economy was arranged around powerful landlords. Not just economic, but also legal power was vested in these lords.

The system was ultra-inadequate as a means of managing scarce resources such as labor and raw materials, but it was a stable system and there was little incentive for the rich landlords to give up their land and abdicate their positions of power.

The Roman Catholic Church was organized along very similar lines. Conceptually, power and privilege was in the hands of the church and its leadership as powerful landowners. Priests many times chose to study law, rather than theology which points to the large influence they had as property administrator and rulers.

Lords did not want to relinquish the land they owned for many years and that the old and outdated economic system was predicated on.
So, god intervened with the Black Death and between 1348 and 1350 he
killed around 75 million people (some estimate).



Black Death

Just kidding. We all know it was not god who killed them! It was Satan!! J

With millions of people dead, it paved the way for a complete re-organization for the Central European society along the lines of free enterprise and a more productive utilization of resources.

Another valuable mega-trend in this time was the tradition of democracy. German speaking tribes have been electing
rulers along democratic lines since time immemorial. The trend was away from the group and towards the individual.

Another mega-movement was the development of the Roman-Dutch legal system that forms the basis of the legal systems around the world. Rulers in the Empire were subject to this legal system as much as the subjects. A development that later emerged  again in constitutional democracies such as the United States.

These were some of the major reasons for the Holy Roman Empire’s
friction with the Roman Catholic Church with their old and increasingly outdated model of government in the person of the Pope and management through the Roman Catholic’s land-ownership.

Protestants started to re-interpret the Bible from an individualistic perspective. Luther and others were sponsored by land-owners – anything that can “legitimize” the ruler’s disdain for the Roman Church in the Empire.

The Reformation became the carriers of the doctrine of “individualistic
power”. They dethroned the Pope and set up the paper-pope in its place. (I borrow the concept from a friend). The Pastor would become the new “Pope” and the authority would be in written words as interpreted by the local teacher.

They did not do away with the Pope-concept completely yet. They merely re-defined the pope, but it was an important development nevertheless.

Physical pictures were replaced by mental pictures. Mental pictures – as long as they don’t actually paint it, it would be OK.

Payments to the Roman Church were conveniently replaced with payments to the local church and taxes to the local rulers.

This was Europe at the time when the Van Tonder family packed up their belongings, probably sold it and re-located to the Cape of Good Hope at the Southern tip of Africa.

These were the discussions that happened around the dinner tables and in the town squares in the days.

Isn’t it interesting that the general development of human thought continues along the same general trajectory today!

Almost three hundred years after the first Van Tonder came to Cape Town, we continue to re-align social structures to the individual.

These are some of the rays of sunshine that starts to break through the clouds after 35 years in the swamp. And the girls with the
sexy bikini’s – well, some day there are more than other days. But hell, it still beats the swamp!


Posted in Family History, south africa, van tonder | Leave a comment

theory of mind

reading in babylon – sean reddan

reading in babylon – sean

we all have a theory of the mind. it is a theory because we have no way of seeing into the mind of someone else. we can only look into our own consciousness.

theory of mind is how we perceive the relationship between belief and observation in others. we not only perceive others, but we perceive that they perceive. their perception creates a system of beliefs.

false belief-test:

take two dolls. carla and julie. play this scene to a child.

carla and julie is in the same room. cala holds a marble. she puts the marble in a box. julie sees it. now Julie leaves the room. carla removes the marble and places it in a drawer. julie does not see this. she is outside the room.

brings julie back into the room and ask the child: “where will Julie look for the marble”.

most children will say that julie will look in the box. even though the child knows that this is a false belief – the child will correctly predict the false belief of julie.

the child knows that belief is predicated upon observation. and that others perceive independent from his/her own “seeing”.

from a very early age we develop a theory of mind. most do not fully develop this until later in life. some never develop this fully (and then again – what is “fully”).

when I was 25, I was on a mission. oh god, I was on a mission. i believed everything as if my own mind represented fact. at 35 i more fully developed a theory of mind. the realization that there are many missions and everybody is on his and her own mission. my mission is just one of many missions. my mission is no more valid or invalid that the mission of the next guy or girl. but there is such a thing like belief and false belief. these are not arbitrary (not purely subjective)

theory of mind – my theory about the minds of others based on their observation. i can predict what others will believe.

belief is what drives action. so, we predict the actions of others. even if we are not god – we can predict.

this is something amazing!

its like reading in babylon.

thanks sean.

dedicated to my son: tristan, for making me see the theory of mind.

Posted in Faith, life | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

symmetry

symmetry

At the heart of good writing is the concept of symmetry.  Connie Stadler announced the release of a new book called paper cuts.

It reminded me of the major achievements in our lives.  At the amazing moments and how inspirational it is do something well!

In 1895 Alfred Nobel established a prize that came to exemplify the height of human achievement in Physics, Chemistry, Physiology or Medicine, Literature, and Peace.

The 2008 Nobel Prize for Physics related to symmetry and the breaks in symmetry. In celebration of Connie’s work I share the introduction to the lectures with you to give you a sense of the moment.  The grandeur.

“The Nobel Lecture of Yoichiro Nambu was presented by Giovanni Jona-Lasinio, La Sapienza, University of Rome, Italy, 8 December 2008, at Aula Magna, Stockholm University. He was introduced by Professor Joseph Nordgren, Chairman of the Nobel Committee for Physics”.

Professor Joseph Nordgren’s introduction:

http://nobelprize.org/mediaplayer/index.php?id=1059

Excellence has a symmetry of its own!

Posted in beauty, Friendship, poetry, symmetry | 2 Comments

cry, the beloved country

In honour of:

-  Pat Beckmann and the Beckmann family who’s lives have been changed forever this week as a result of crime in South Africa;

-  Nick Roets who lost his life and the Roets family who’s lives have been changed forever this week as a result of crime in South Africa;

- Piet van den Berg who lost his life and the Roets family who’s lives have been changed forever this week as a result of crime in South Africa

A front page article in the Pretoria News of July 16, 2009 read:

Tuks woman feared paralysed after attack

A Pretoria University sports projects co-ordinator is feared paralysed after she was shot in the chest while trying save her husband’s life during a botched house robbery.

Pat Beckmann, 60, was asleep in the family’s Constantia Park home when she and her husband, Colin, 63, were attacked during the early hours of yesterday (WED) morning.

The attack, the fourth in as many days, appears to be part of continuous bloody siege on city homeowners and appears unstoppable with criminals murdering and maiming Pretoria residents at will.

On Monday Pretoria businessman, Nick Roets, 56, was shot dead in his Raslouw smallholding less than 48 hours after Cullinan mielie farmer Piet van den Berg, 64, was gunned down on his plot.

Van den Berg was shot dead on Saturday by gunmen who then tried to burn his wife, Madeleine, 59, to death when they locked her in a cupboard and then set the house alight.

Beckmann was shot yesterday (WED) as she ran through her house in an attempt to save her husband who was struggling with two gunmen in their garden.

He was attacked by three men as he walked through his garden and back into his house after wheeling out a dustbin for rubbish collection.

Unbeknown to Beckmann one of her husband’s attackers, who spotted her turning on a bedroom light, was waiting in the passage for her and shot her as she ran past him.

The bullet, fired from almost pointblank range, tore through her right hand and breast puncturing her lung before it lodged itself against her spine.

The trio fled empty handed moments after they shot Beckmann.

An emotional Colin Beckmann, speaking from outside Pretoria East Hospital’s intensive care unit where his wife is in a serious condition, said the attack was over within minutes.

“As I was walking through the garden I saw the men running at me and heard them screaming at me to standstill.”

As instinct kicked in, Beckmann, fearing for his sleeping wife’s safety, immediately tackled and wrestled two of them to the ground.

As he wrestled with two of the men the third pointed a gun Beckmann’s head and tried to shoot him, but missed when he (Beckmann) managed to push one of the gunman’s accomplices into him deflecting the gun as it was fired.

Hearing the commotion outside their bedroom, Pat Beckmann, jumped up and grabbed a pepper spray gun and ran down the passage – straight into the man who had just tried to kill her husband.

Beckmann said when he heard the shot and saw the men fleeing he knew something terrible had happened.

“When I did not see any blood I thought she was alright,
but I began to panic when I saw Pat could not breathe or move.”

Beckmann, fighting back tears, said the doctors believed that his wife would be paralysed.

“The bullet apparently hit her spine which is now damaged,” he said.

Beckmann, recalling the moment he was confronted by the gunmen, said: “When they told me to standstill I refused. I was not going to let them get to my wife.

“I tried really hard to stop them. I was fighting them like crazy. I managed to tackle two of them, but I could not get to the third,” he said, staring blankly at his hands.

Pretoria East Hospital spokeswoman, Ronel Leyds, said Beckmann was undergoing a series of tests to determine the extent of her injuries.

“She will undergo an operation later this week,” she said.

Garsfontein police station spokeswoman Sergeant Lynnette Erasmus said no arrests had been made and that the suspects had escaped without taking anything.

She said a case of attempted murder and attempted house robbery was being investigated.

Anyone with information on the suspects whereabouts or identities can contact Crime Stop on 0860010111.

 

 

Article by Graeme Hosken.  He is a crime reporter with the Pretoria News and his e-mail address is: graeme.hosken@inl.co.za

Pat is slowly recovering in the ICU unit of the Pretoria East Hospital.

She will never walk again. Her dreams about her retirement years have been shattered.

Nick Roets and Piet van den Berg have been killed.

When will the madness end?

Pat and Julie

Pat and Hackpick

Pat, Colin, Tris and La

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one owner – one bullet

Colin and Pat, at Sun City – Dec 2008.

In 1994 a prominent South African politician Peter Mokaba reportedly made an old slogan popular again when he called for : “one settler - one bullet”

Tonight, in a Pretoria Suburb we first hand experience “one consumer – one bullet”; “one owner of anything – one bullet.”

Three nights ago the Beckman family was attached in their home and Pat is left paralyzed, recovering in hospital.

Last night the family guard dog was poisoned at around 1:00 am in a clear attempt by the gang of perpetrators to return to the scene of the crime and finish the job that they started.

I did not bring my Laptop along from Cape Town when I drove up with the kids to be with their grandparents – because of the crime in Johannesburg.

I am writing this post from an internet café close to where Colin and Pat live.

The day was spend in a frantic arranging of better security matters, meetings with the police and various community policing forums.

Everybody agrees that the perpetrators are so aggressive that unless they are caught, they will probably wait for the 24 hours police patrols to be canceled and they will strike again.

Colin fought back. He saw their faces and he can link them to a serious crime (shooting pat).

Its 6:26 p.m. in Pretoria, South Africa. Its getting dark and I must get home.

Posted in Family, society, south africa | Leave a comment

life and death

Tristan, December 2008

Tristan – December 2008 – pure poetry

Scene 1

A month ago I got horribly sick.  Went to the doctor.  Same day –  saw a specialist.  7:00 that same evening –  operated on.

Infection was poisoning my body.  I just wanted it to stop.  No thought about my life; my kids; my wife; my business;  friends – I just wanted it to stop.

I asked myself if I am prepared to die to make it stop.

Strange.

– YES!

Scene 2

A week ago my mother-in-law was shot during a robbery at their Pretoria home.  Paralyzed for life.

Julie flew up from Cape Town to Pretoria.  I went by car with the kids.

While the adults panicked – the kids joked and played.

I asked myself how much this will affect them.

Strange.

– NOT MUCH!

Scene 3

I thought about this while I climbed Lions Head yesterday.  One of the hills next to Table Mountain, Cape Town.

When we die, we won’t experience death.  To die –  consciousness ends.  Loosing consciousness is not bad.  It happens to us for at least some time every night while we sleep.

I asked myself who life belongs to then.

Strange.

Life is the domain of the living – why do we worry so much about death?

Death belongs to the old and sick people.  Children bounce back from the worst expenriences.  The older we are, the more we linger.  Until we are so consumed with sorrow that we welcome death.

Scene 4

Got home after a difficult day at the office.  Screaming children wait for me at home.  A friend mails me about the attack on Pat.  My wife drives me nuts as wives do after 10 years of marriage!

I asked myself if I will go mad or welcome death when it all becomes to much.

Strange.

I opened an e-book by Connie Stadler,  Paper Cuts.

And I read poetry.

Here is what I read:

Plato’s Cave

In your shadow world
You might take me as a prisoner
For I do not believe in the duality of
perceptual reality
Or the ‘thing’ of/in itself.

Protoplasmic molecular conjunctions
Ephemeral constitutives
Conceptual, sentient contortions.

You challenge my
Incomprehension of Form
of Idea.

But all you do is verify
You never loved.

I never want to stop reading/loving the poetry of life!

Posted in Faith, Family, Hope and Love, life, love, poetry, society, south africa | Leave a comment

legends are made in africa

.
.
to every man, woman and child

affected by crime

in a land, still finding itself -

so much is destroyed with each senseless act




The myspace profile site of Lucky Dube starts as follows:

The South African reggae musician, Lucky  Dube, has been shot dead in front of his children in Johannesburg  during an attempted car hijacking. He had been dropping his teenage son and daughter off in the suburb of  Rosettenville on Thursday evening. Police say they were already out of the car when three shots were fired through a car window killing their father. Alongside Bob Marley, he was thought of as one of the great reggae artists – singing about social problems. He was also one of the apartheid regime’s most outspoken critics.”

Last year, on my way to work I heard the following remarkable story:

A South African lady Maria Kint was attending a UN conference in a remote part of Bakino Faso earlier that year.  In the mornings she would get up and watch the sun rise over the desert.

One particular morning she walked to the entrance of the area where they were housed. Very far in the distance she could see dust over the desert.  It did not take her long to notice that the dust was someone approaching her.  An old man.

He walked up to her without any hesitation.  Bluntly he told her that he was looking for Kint, Maria Kint.

She was startled!

“Well, the universe must be looking favorably upon you.  You found her!” she replied equally bluntly.  Completely startled.

He proceeded to pull out of his pocket the sleeve of a CD cover.  It was a CD cover of Lucky Dube.

He handed it to her.

“Here

“I live in a community some distance into the desert”

“We heard that someone from South Africa would be here for a conference by the name of Maria Kint”.

“My village asked me to come speak with you.  We heard that Lucky passed away.  When you return, will you meet with Lucky’s family and convey our sincerest condolences?”

“We don’t have electricity in our village, but we have a CD payer and a battery which we connect up.  That’s how we listen to his music and at night. . . . .
. . . . . . we sing his songs when we dance around the fires


Such beauty and humanity in such a brutal land.

Nkosi skelel iAfrica (GOD BLESS AFRICA)

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the unbearable likeness of being

a week ago, pat was attacked at home.
shot through the chest
a robbery

shot. . . for no reason
shot, through the chest and longue
(a 9mm causes a lot of damage)

(was it a week, or did life just pass me by?)

paralised . . for life

I saw her in hospital today
she is so frail and weak
(when i walked in – she was asleep)

i held her hand – she opened her eyes. looked at me.
(so frail)
(why a 9mm?)
(fucking asshole,
fucking no-good,
fucking useless jesus
. . . why???? – fuck the excuses!!!!, fucking god)

i rambled on about stuff. . .
stroked her hair . . .
held her hand . . . ….
kissed her on her forehead goodbye. . . ….
went outside. . .

and wept bitterly

Posted in society, south africa | Leave a comment

rehabilitation

Pat Beckmann.  Rehabilitation. July 2009

from the beauty of the land she loves, a rendition befitting her. . .

&fmt=18

Posted in Africa, Family History, Hope, Hope and Love, society | Tagged | Leave a comment

number theory

2:00 p.m.

I pick a friend up –  Leah.  She is visiting from the US. Studdying.  I want to take her to visit a radio station.  She mentions in passing a class on number theory she did in school.

“Number theory”, I think to myself.  How odd.  I have been thinking about that all afternoon.  Or does it now become even?!


5:00 p.m.

Its raining in Cape Town.  Table Mountain is spectacular when it rains and Tristan wants to go.  I need NO invitation.



5:30 p.m.

At Table Mountain.  We start the hike.  I ask Tris about rocks and flowers.  Why do we call it rocks and flowers?

Energy.

Molecules.

Memory.


What you call it is irrelevant.  Call a flower shit and “shit”, “flower”.  Then your mom will tell you not to use the word “flower” in good company.

Memory of energy states.  Direction. Velocity. Decay from one state to another.

A seagull in flight.

What is that?  A feedback loop between our brain and a clump of molecules, energy, memory travelling through space.


6:00 p.m.

We take a route – have never been here before.  Spectacular.

The cliffs of Table Mountain were carved by the sea that slammed against the continent at this very place long ago.

Tris loves the thought.  He wants to become the cliff!




6:30 p.m.

Tris wants to stand in the water.

Whatever you can do, I can try as well.  It may kill me – by I will try!

We wonder about life. Rocks.

Plants.  Under a different matrix-set – rocks, flowers, life would look different.  We would love it – and we will call that “natural”.


6:55 p.m.

Getting dark.  A sign says – 55 minutes to the Cable Station.

We run!



memory.

the key.


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memory


bus station

M    E    M    O    R    Y

M  E  M  O  R  Y

M E M O R Y

MEMORY



COLLECTIVE

Billions are spend on marketing.

The management of “memory”.

We see an image.  The mind searches for recognition.  Recall.

“Brand” is a loaded image.  Around the image is a personality.

e b e n

became – “Eben”.  “Eben” has a personality.

When people read “Eben”, they see in “Eben” the complete personality of “Eben”.  The total memory of “Eben”.

So we create consumer brands.  We build the “brand personality”. Instant recall.  The positioning of the brand in the mental framework of the masses.

Brand is the management of memory.

The management of memory is what makes people millions.

.

PERSONAL

Memory bits.  Its own personality.

When we see a dog.

d o g

becomes “dog”.

Recall.

The entire “dog” personality.  Our experiance of “dog”.

The correct management of “memory” can make us happier people.

s e x

becomes “sex”.  But what is the personality associated with the memory recall?

We are able to change brand-personality for personal memories as much as we are able to do this with Coca-Cola or Velcro.

This is not easy, but it is possible.

.

GENERATIONAL

Billions of data bits in libraries and books.  Computer hard drives.

Memory.  Creates culture.

Life is the management of memory.

Personally and collectively.

Brands and intellect.

life = the management of memory

I will manage my memories and live!


Deut 30:19  ”Today I invoke heaven and earth as a witness against you that I have set life and death, blessing and curse before you.  Therefore choose life so that you and your descendants may live!”

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legends


This morning I have been thinking about the life and times of the legendary Syd Barrett.

Strange what you think about when its cold and gray outside.  . .

Syd Barrett (6 January 1946 – 7 July 2006), born Roger Keith Barrett, was a founding member of the band “Pink Floyd” and one of the most legendary rock stars of all times.
Wikipedia says that he was active as a rock musician for about seven years, recording two albums with Pink Floyd and two solo albums before going into self-imposed seclusion lasting more than thirty years. His post-rock band life was as an artist and a keen gardener, ending with his death in 2006.

During his withdrawal from public life there were numerous works about him, most notably his former band Pink Floyd’s 1975 album Wish You Were Here.

David Bowie is reported to have said in an interview that he had Syd Barrett in mind after he got sick with a mental illness when he (Bowie) wrote this song about a fictional astronaut.

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legends – 2

George Santayana (1863 to 1952)

His work:


Premonition

by George Santayana

The muffled syllables that Nature speaks
Fill us with deeper longing for her word;
She hides a meaning that the spirit seeks,
She makes a sweeter music than is heard.

A hidden light illumines all our seeing,
An unknown love enchants our solitude.
We feel and know that from the depths of being
Exhales an infinite, a perfect good.

Though the heart wear the garment of its sorrow
And be not happy like a naked star,
Yet from the thought of peace some peace we borrow,
Some rapture from the rapture felt afar.

Our heart strings are too coarse for Nature’s fingers
Deftly to quicken as she pulses on,
And the harsh tremor that among them lingers
Will into sweeter silence die anon.

We catch the broken prelude and suggestion
Of things unuttered, needing to be sung;
We know the burden of them, and their question
Lies heavy on the heart, nor finds a tongue.

Till haply, lightning through the storm of ages,
Our sullen secret flash from sky to sky,
Glowing in some diviner poet’s pages
And swelling into rapture from this sigh.

from poemhunter.com

His memory:

George Satayana was raised in the United Sates and graduated from Harvard University in 1886.

He was a poet and a philosopher.

His philosophical works include:

-  The Sense of Beauty (1896)

-  The Life of Reason, (1905–6),

-  Scepticism and Animal Faith (1923)

-  The Realms of Being  (1927 – 40)

The Life of Reason is arguably the first extended treatment of pragmatism ever penned.

Satayana is famously remembered for his quote:  ”Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy writes about him:

He was a naturalist before naturalism grew popular; he appreciated multiple perfections before multiculturalism became an issue; he thought of philosophy as literature before it became a theme in American and European scholarly circles; and he managed to naturalize Platonism, update Aristotle, fight off idealisms, and provide a striking and sensitive account of the spiritual life without being a religious believer.”

Santayana is a legend and along with Billy Joel and Ray Charles invited to our dinner party!


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African Farmers – migrating from subsistence to small-scale commercial

AFRICAN CATTLE FARMER

AFRICAN CATTLE FARMER

One of the challenges in Africa is to turn subsistence farmer into a viable commercial farmer.

Farming in livestock will be used as an example, but the same basic principles can be applied to grain or any other farming operation.

The experience of one company, LOCAL PODUCERS TRUST will be used, but the principles and challenges are so pervasive in Africa that the solution serves as a viable model for sustainable development in Africa and upgrading the farmer from subsistence to small-scale commercial.

Creating small scale commercial farmers results in:

  • a dramatic increase of income for the farmer;
  • African Farmers changing farming operations from environmentally destructive to environmentally acceptable practices; and
  • African Farmers increasing their productivity and thereby lowering food production cost in a region of the world where food production is under constant pressure;

Generally subsistence farmers have problems of access to markets, unproductive farming techniques, scale restrictions (i.e. a lack of economy of scale) and a lack of capital to funds cash flow and growth.

Overcoming these problems seems like a daunting task.

DE KOMPER ENTERPRISES is a Minneapolis based IT, Brand Development and Supply Management Company, working in Africa through a South African company, DE KOMPER TRUST.

Part of the brand value that DEKOMPER TRUST associated with all its retail brands is the fact that even though brands are nationally and regionally managed, produce sold under the brands are LOCALLY produced under a stringent set of “best practice-norms” most appropriate for each market and LOCALLY sold.

This allowed DE KOMPER TRUST to offer access to large formal markets to subsistence farmers and for consumers to purchase food products that have been produced LOCALLY.

DE KOMPER’S first approach was to try and organize a number of subsistence farmers into “production units” to produce food at consistently high quality and quantity. It saw its role in terms of production, primarily as that of “coordinator of production” according to a set of minimum standards and “coordinate supply” from subsistence farmers.

It thought that by offering market access to subsistence farmers, it could dictate production standards to farmers and that farmers would support the venture based on the opportunity to grow its output considerably by its access to large, lucrative LOCAL markets.

The vehicle, set up to achieve this is the LOCAL PRODUCERS TRUST or LPT, which was set up to manage supply quality and quantity.

LPT is responsible to organize local subsistence farmers to supply local commercial processing operations that would in turn process the livestock and sell it to the formal retail industry under DE KOMPER TRUST brands.

By creating a separate entity in LPT to focus on the food production, DE KOMPER TRUST would be freed up to focus on marketing the brands and for building the brand value under the umbrella of “LOCALLY produced food, produced according to “best practices”, sold LOCALLY”.

LPT is tasked to deal with food production problems and had its work cut out for it!

The problem that LPT ran into was the fact that subsistence farmers is not primarily “subsistence” due to their lack of farming expertise (even though this is a problem), but the biggest challenge of the subsistence farmer is its lack of cash flow and the fact that the farmer lives from-hand-to-mouth.

The subsistence farmer is under constant pressure to sell or use their produce prematurely to provide cash for food for them to survive day-by-day.

LPT signed contracts with subsistence farmers to supply a certain quality and quantity of animals at a certain date that would be sold to local food processing plants. Before the animals reach the desired weight (at a certain fat to mussel ratio) the subsistence farmer would need some cash for itself and would sell its animals prematurely to their traditional customers at reduced income levels to itself or would simply slaughter some of the animals for private consumption.

There was under contract a certain minimum number of animals that LPT had to supply to local food processors in order to make LPT viable as a new production channel.

(The problem relates to a requirement to at least fill trucks with animal carcasses and that the number of carcasses had to be enough to fill up production capacity at processing plants for at least a certain number of production shifts. Failure to do so made the local subsistence farmers products simply to expensive for the formal food industry.)

The problem was so pervasive that LPT was unable to supply any stock to local food processors.

LPT realized that the fundamental problem with the subsistence farmer in Africa is not in the first place a problem of farming expertise, or even a lack of economy of scale advantages (although these are real and daunting challenges in and off themselves), but a problem of capital.

Capital (as in money in the bank) would stop the subsistence farmer from selling its livestock prematurely. If they are able to hang on to their livestock until the right time, they will be able to supply contracts according to large, formal market-requirements and they will be able to get a better price for their animals due to the fact that when they sell their livestock prematurely, they generally worsen their position by not just failing to supply according to contract-requirements on quality and quantity, but also by discounting their animals.

LPT’s role evolved into managing the cash flow requirements of local subsistence farmers in a way that would provide security for investors and cash to subsistence farmers when they need it.

These cash flow requirements are distinctly different from commercial farmers and the legal and infrastructural frameworks had to be created to manage this in a 3rd world context.

These frameworks were created by an integration of the principles of capitalism and social responsibility.

Capitalism:
Investors are given a fixed annual return on investment at a rate that reflects the inherent risk involved in the investment.

Management of the investment is done by LPT who operates under legal supervision from formal structures in the South African judicial system as well as local government agencies.

LPT and DE KOMPER TRUST jointly negotiate and manage supply contracts with lucrative formal local markets.

LPT not just manages the contracts, but also physically manages the logistics and day to day execution of these contracts. This allows LPT to provide investors with a detailed income statement on a weekly basis of the commercial trading activities.

Social responsibility:
Subsistence farmers contribute livestock according to contracts to LPT. This allows for a dramatic increase in revenue to the farmer.

Each active supplier is also appointed as a beneficiary of the trust (LPT). As such they are formally “members of the trust” and in addition to income from their sale of livestock to the trust, they also receive a profit share, thereby further increasing their income position.

Their profit share is offset against cooperative ventures with suppliers of farming inputs such as veterinarian services, lease on land and equipment, etc.

LPT assists the subsistence farmer in their relationship with local government and Non-Governmental Agencies who are essential partners in any social context in Africa.

The net result is that subsistence farmers are changed into small-scale commercial famers by providing cash flow in accordance with the needs of someone who lives “from-hand-to-mouth” and by providing a safe investment opportunity for investors who seek solid investment opportunities and not just investors who want to make a social-investment.

This model is currently being implemented in one region in South Africa. If successful, it can provide a workable model for development across Africa.

August 2009
Eben van Tonder
Email: eben@dekomper.com

Trustee – Local Producers Trust (South Africa)
Trustee – DE KOMPER TRUST (South Africa)
Partner – DE KOMPER ENTERPRISES, LLC (USA)

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legends – E. V. Rieu

Dr. E. V. Rieu

Dr. E. V. Rieu

On September 1, 1939, Germany invaded Poland – an event that sparked the deadliest war in human history.

Between 1939 and 1945, over seventy million people died.

This was a state of “total war” where entire economies of the largest countries in the world were dedicated to the war effort.

These were extraordinary times and in it lived some amazing people.

When Hitler invaded Poland Dr. E. V. Rieu was 52.

Emile Victor Rieu was born on 10 February 1887 in London and  died on 11 May 1972 in London.  He was a celebrated translator from Latin and Greek, and editor of Penguin Classics from 1944-1964. His son, D. C. H. Rieu has revised his work.

In the 2002 preface to the translation of the Odyssey, which his son revised with Dr Peter Jones, his son writes the following account of his father:

My father E. V. Rieu’s translation of the Odyssey was published in 1946, as the first of the Penguin Classics series which he founded with Sir Allen Lane. His vision was to make available to the ordinary reader, in good modern English, the great classics of every language. This vision, shadowy at first, came to him in the early days of the Second World War, when he used to sit in the drawing-room after supper with the Odyssey on his lap, translating aloud to his wife and daughters, while the bombs fell on London. When he retired as general editor of the series he had searched out the scholars and men of letters he wanted as translators and seen through to publication about 160 books.”

Dr. Rieu also translated the Iliad, the Voyage of Argo by Apollonius of Rhodes, The Four Gospels and Virgil’s Pastoral Poems.

Patrick Kavanagh evoked the translations’ crisp and readable character in a poem “On Looking into E. V. Rieu’s Homer”:

“In stubble fields the ghosts of corn are
The important spirits the imagination heeds.
Nothing dies; there are no empty
Spaces in the cleanest-reaped fields.”

The picture of E. V. Rieu reading/ translating to his family while the bombs fell on London stays with me.

Dr. E. V. Rieu – an extraordinary man!

 

PS: Dr. Rieu’s work was the conduit that allowed me access to fossil records of thought from the fourth century BC.  From these I now understand much better who I am, where I come from and why I think the way I think.  I wrote a blog to myself on these insights called SHORTHAND NOTES TO MYSELF

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legends – gisele bundchen



Picture from:  http://www.gisele-bundchen.info/galleries-bw.html

Arguably the biggest model alive today is the Brazilian born supermodel Gisele Caroline Bündchen (born July 20, 1980).

The IMDB website writes the following about her:

It was in 1994 when Gisele Bundchen was discovered at age 14 in a Brazilian fashion mall, and now she is ”the” most famous face in the business.

Since then, Gisele has graced the covers of countless magazines as any other model in the history, including Rolling Stone, Time, Forbes, Newsweek and all the fashion top magazines such as Vogue, W, Cosmopolitan, Elle, Harper’s Bazaar, i-D, The Face, and many others.

Gisele also has multi-million dollars deals with some of the world’s biggest companies. Her contract with Victoria’s Secret is the biggest in the fashion industry, and she also has deals with Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Bulgari, Dolce & Gabbana, Valentino, Joop!, Otto, Lanvin, Guerlain, Nivea, DSquared, St. John, Colcci, Vivo, Vogue Eyewear and Grendene. Her own line of shoes, called “Ipanema Gisele Bundchen”, have sold more than 100 million pairs since 2001.

On August 26, 2008, the New York Daily News, in a list, named Bündchen the fourth-most-powerful person in the fashion world.

On May 12, 2009, The Independent, called her the biggest star in fashion history.

 

She is a supermodel, a superstar and has achieved what millions of girls all over the world only dream about.

Gisele – you are a LEGEND!

 

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i have a dream

.

.

.

.

I have a dream that my kids will grow up, free from the stigma associated with sex and comfortable with their sexuality.

We grew up in a world that was governed by scary stories about god, hell, demons and angels.  Where superstition ruled!

My dream is for my kids to grow up in a different world.  Where they will never think that  that it is a “sin” if  they have sexual intercourse before marriage or outside marriage.  In fact, that they will see marriage for what it is – a cultural phenomenon that some people choose to manage and pair up emotional, physical and legal aspects of a relationship.

I have a dream that my kids will grow up with no stigma associated with sex, not just related to having sex outside a marriage or a long-term relationship and masturbation, but related to same sex intercourse as well.

I simply fail to see the “unnaturalness” of same-sex relationships.  It seem to me that the argument can easily be settled by the fact that there are people attracted to people from the same sex which makes that very natural.

The God-hypothesis is so preposterous as it relates to sexuality that I am not even going to deal with it here.  I will deal with this in a different forum at another time.

The more basic question, before one asks the question if someone is homosexual or heterosexual is whether someone is male or female.

This is a question that I would not have given more than an amused fleeting moments of attention in the past, but after following the Semenya debate over the last few weeks, it seems to me that it is not that easy.  It is not just a matter of sex organs physiologically.

The question with the South African middle distance runner, Caster Semenya for those who are not following the story is whether she has to much male characteristics as well, so as to give her an unfair advantage in competing with other females.  Contrary to what I expected, there is NO easy answer to this question.

I refer all interested in an introduction to the debate to a good article by Ross Tucker. http://running.competitor.com/features/what-is-caster-semenya_4836

If it is this complex in determining if a female athlete has not to much physical “male” characteristics so as to give her an unfair advantage, how complex is this matter not emotionally and psychologically when it comes to being male or female.

Instead of a cut and dry position of being either male or female, it seems as if there are a lot of people who are in-between – physiologically and psychologically.

It occurred to me that we may be making the same mistake when it comes to heterosexuality or homosexuality.  That these may be two extreme cases and that many people may not be on any of the extreme position, but somewhere in the middle.

Extreme labels concerns me almost as much as extreme positions.

Take a situation where a person is not fully homosexual or fully heterosexual.  He or she has no clear preference either way.

Imagine the courage it takes a man or woman to come out and proclaim to the world that he or she is homosexual or lesbian.

Imagine then how much more difficult it must be to tell the world, after he or she “came out” as a homosexual or a lesbian, to tell the world (friends and family) that he or she is attracted to people from the opposite sex as well.

I can just imagine the possibility for more confusion and conflict.

From this perspective, as long as sexuality is a “be-all and end-all” in our society, even the labels of homosexual or heterosexual may be damaging.  Making people choose between extreme-case-scenarios is not all that helpful.

Why is it not enough to say that we are sexual beings and leave it there?  Why do we need these extreme labels?

Male, female, homosexual, heterosexual is however not where it ends.  It is not the only “extreme case” positions or views we take on sex.

A husband, wife, boyfriend or girlfriend’s commitment to a relationship is many times measured solely by whether he has sexual intercourse with another man or woman or not.

No matter how many hours he or she works to contribute to the needs and luxuries of the family – many times our society will disregard all of this and make his or her sexual commitment the only measure of his or her faithfulness.

It seems like  madness.  Like the case of being 100% male or 100% female, heterosexual or homosexual, measuring someone’s commitment to people can not be done solely on the basis of his or her willingness to have or not to have sexual intercourse with someone else.  It is simply not that easy.

I have a dream that my kids will grow up in a society where sexuality and commitment will be things that they think through and where they will have the freedom to make choices and have LOTS of fun.

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sites and sounds – robin alexander

Robin Alexander

Robin Alexander

Sights and sounds from our past – Robin Alexander

If you lived in South Africa in the 80′s you would have listened to Bruce Springsteen and the voice of Robin Alexander.

From a site  http://www.opsmedic.co.za/radio.htm

“Robin Alexander had the voice that could keep you listening to the broadcast until the start of the day service broadcasts. Stayed up late as we go on pass today until Sunday. Needed to finish polishing boots, etc. and get ready for Pass Parade … If we are not neat enough our Pass could be cancelled. The last of us head off to bed … must be up early this morning. Radio Orion – Opening with Robin Alexander, 12.00AM Thursday 1 May 1986″

Click on the link below and hear the voice of the man himself:

Robin Alexander

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a great heart to stand me by

Cecil John Roads

Cecil John Rhods

Who were the Bill Gates, Larry Page and Sergey Brin’s (Google founders) of yesterday.  Who shaped the world we inherited from our parents.

Much of the landscape of Africa was shaped by one man – Cecil John Rhodes.

Wikipedia tells us that “Cecil John Rhodes DCL (5 July 1853 – 26 March 1902) was an English-born businessman, mining magnate, and politician in South Africa.

He was the founder of the diamond company De Beers, which today markets 40% of the world’s rough diamonds and at one time marketed 90%. He was an ardent believer in colonialism and imperialism, and was the founder of the state of Rhodesia, which was named after him. Rhodesia, later Northern and Southern Rhodesia, eventually became Zambia and Zimbabwe respectively. South Africa’s Rhodes University is named after him, and he is also known for the Rhodes Scholarship which is funded by his estate.”  Bill Clinton was a Rhodes scholarship recipient.

I have been in the little cottage in Simons Town where he died on 26 March 1902.  I sat in the horse buggy that he used to ride into Cape Town every day.

The more one learns about him, the less you like him, but on the other hand . . . the more you can see his hand in the institutions, history, politics, struggles and richness in present day Africa.

His dying words were reportedly “so much to do, so little done“.  As I have the story, his publicist were with him when he died.  Rhods apparently said, “well, so long friends” and died.

The publicist thought that was very uninspiring and when he walked out to address the waiting crowd and journalists gathered outside, he gave them the official “so much to do, so little done” line.

Definitely a larger-than-life figure.  A man who helped shape the world we live in today. A great heart to stand me by!

A few friends from the US, Julie, Lauren and myself took a drive  to Somons Town this morning and visited the Rhodes Cottage where he passed away:

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the day before yesterday

by Sean Reddan

by Sean Reddan (www.myspace.com/seanreddansound )

On Friday I contacted a friend whom I vaguely remember – I was 13.

She responded to my Facebook message.  She remembered my birthday – 13 April 1969.

I look at a pic on her site – 27 years ago – some friends and her.  She gives me their birthdays as well.

So, she remembers things. . . .

When I was 8, I fell in love with debating competitions.  Rehearsed my speeches  in front of a mirror.  A teacher from school wrote me the most beautiful speeches. . . Hannetjie Hatting.

Those speeches are lost. . .  I looked for it many times.  No luck.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Back to cyberspace and HTML codes and bits and www and Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook. . .

I receive a message . . .

Look at it.

Re-look!

Fuck!!

She send me a quote from one of those speeches.

Verbatim.

“Remember?” . . .  the characters come through. . .  FUCK!

It was 27 years ago!

Then she quotes another paragraph. . .   another speech. . .

27 years ago!  For God’s sake. . .  we were 13!!!!!

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

The greeks turned the primitive idea of “god” into a volcanic though ~ the idea of the absolute.  Plato et al became the prophet of the absolute.  He wrote and it became gospel.  People believes the absolute exists.

Rene Descartes et al put scientific meat on the skeleton.  Anything can be defined in terms of anything else.  We can pull it apart and put it back together again.  Anything.

We experience our world through our senses.  Our minds run on sugar??

No!!

Hahahaha!

Runs on the “absolute-model software” of Plato and Descartes!

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

We talk the whole day. . .

She had cancer . . .  have cancer . . .  how do we know. . . do we ever NOT have cancer?

She is  intuitive. . . .

We connect . . .

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I am uncomfortable with the Platonic “absolute” model of the world. NO!  Im Past it!

Well – not just me . .  hundreds of thousands of people know that it is just a stupid model.  Nothing absolute about our world or our lives . . .

THE PAST

We analyze it.

THE FUTURE

We try and manipulate it through understanding the long range nature of the models we engage in.  Vector-aspect of our reality.  A vector has direction and velocity.  Understand the vector of any part of a system and we can be HALLELUUUUJAAAAA!!!!  We CAN be GOD!!!!  WE can predict the future!!!!!!!!

But neither of these represent our lives. . .  itself a vector.  A moving target!

We ARE the present!  Our CURRENT experience!  RIGHT now.  The keyboard under my fingers.  The radio playing in the background.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

She speaks about her life.

She falls and gets up.

Abuse.

Gets up.

Stares death in the face.

Gets up.

Why?  Im not sure.  I try to distinguishes between signal and noise.

She lives for the NOW.

On Friday I said – :  WOW.  The few minutes of transmission – wow!  (if you are lost – look up wow-signal)

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

A few weeks ago I did not know her.  We were 13 years old for gods sake!

Weeks ago she was discussing a major event with the people involved ~ the events did not happen, but she saw the vector.  The arrow.  Then  it happened.

The event happened to me.  People around me.  Close to me.  I have not seen her for 26 years but she was there!

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I have been sick for months.  I try and work out every day, but have not done so for months.  I feel sick.  Yesterday I went on a 5km walk with Tristan and a friend.  They want me to buy them an FHM magazine.

We look for one ~ not in stock.

I promised them that as soon as it comes out I will buy it for them.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

You know the feeling when you realize that life is SO much more than anything we thought it is.

W    O    W

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random favorates

oudtshoorn, south africa ~ oct 2009

tree

think that I shall never see
a poem as lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks to God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

joyce kilmer. 1886–1918

~~  A sergeant in the 165th U.S. Infantry Regiment, Kilmer was killed at the Second Battle of Marne in 1918 at the age of 31  ~~

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view of self

Tristan - Table mountain - 2009

Tristan - Table mountain - 2009

the man

the man of the hour
. . . hes got the power

runs and have fun
. . . in the sun

the best of the best
. . . . unlike the rest

takes risks and bake chips

after all

… his friends name is paul

naughty is he and very sporty

© Tristan van Tonder (11 years old)

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learing how to bat

Tristan at a cricket match, 2009

Tristan at a cricket match, 2009

The following is a quote from Groote Schuur Newsletter regarding a cricket match this week:

Groote Schuur batted first and we scored 51 runs. Slogging was unfortunately evident and the boys lift their heads, close their eyes and hope for the best. Another tip you can teach your boys (and girl!) is to control the ball: Many runs are made by simply using the speed of the ball and guiding it behind the wicket. Tristan Van Tonder was our best batsman.

and

Man of the match: Tristan Van Tonder for sensible batting and discipline.

I was thinking that there is much similarities between cricket and life.  Keep it up my boy and always remember to have fun while your doing it!

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just before 12

Ortiz

Ortiz

just before 12 p.m.

i’m looking at some poems written by ordinary people about extraordinary events.

Stumbled upon this one:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stages of Grief

Denial
Things nightmares are made of
Now a haunting reality….
Never thought this would happen to me

Anger
Toward a heartless person
for taking a life in cold blood
Too young and loved to die

Bargaining
If I could, I would, WHY this?
God please take it back!
I promise I’d do anything!

Depression
Part of your life for so long
Gone in an instant
No time for goodbyes

Acceptance
It happened and life must go on
A void is left that can not be filled
Time will make it easier

Smile, just a facade
To hide the stages of grief
Memories are no consolation
Tomorrow is never promised

~~In memory of Bryant Eddie Ortiz the father of 2 of my beautiful children who was murdered on September 21st 2009. ~~

the note at the bottom strikes me.  Google the name :  Bryant Eddie Ortiz


Police say an argument at Ray’s Memory Lane on Pearl Avenue may have led to the fatal shooting of Ortiz. (Photo by Bruce Bishop, The Chronicle-Telegram.)

Police say an argument at Ray’s Memory Lane on Pearl Avenue may have led to the fatal shooting of Ortiz. (Photo by Bruce Bishop, The Chronicle-Telegram.)

REAL people.  Real lives.  Real poetry!

For some reason i think of his kids.  and his wife.  and his brother. and his mother. and his death.

©  The background from a website: http://weol.northcoastnow.com/2009/09/22/slain-lorain-man-remembered-for-sense-of-humor-love-of-baseball/

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arriving in bombay

Bombay dis morning.

A remember da city well!  da peopl’s.   Da smell.  De relentless traffic!

Kabiers driver dropped me at de hotel.  kabier ~ a friend of DiDi.  A designer from cape Town.

A sit by da pool.  Amazing . . .  dis hotel was de scene of barbaric terrorist attacks not too long ago.  How many people died here?  a forget.  a dont want to kno!

Taj Mahal Hotel

Taj Mahal Hotel

Ma mind is sober.  Like two days after a heavy drinking session!  Dis place is funny.  Not as in “haha”, but as in “Oh-my-god”!  More alive with death dan Rome or Jerusalem.  More haunting dan Saint Peters-burg or Bulgaria.  So, a think about ma life and the “other peops” a shere dis life with!

da bridge for de queen

da bridge for de queen

Ma Gabriela!

Her smell.   Da silk touch of her skin.  Da soft voice asking me when we wake up:  “tell me a story”.

(Da same voice dat told me – fuck off!)

In India ~ all seem so reasonable.  God knows – she should have done dat a long time ago!

Can a say dat ma minds fly’s????  As a eat ma $15 hamburger and beer.  Over da vast Indian plains.  Da gigantic monuments.  Da billions of humans.  Shit – da scramble for survival.

A told yo about ma bro in Cape Town and da poetry shit he got me to read?  Da other one hi wanted me to know is dis one . . . he said dat it will show me where to go when a loose ma way!!

An Old Man on the River Bank

by George Seferis

To Nani Panayíotopoulo

And yet we should consider how we go forward.
To feel is not enough, nor to think, nor to move
nor to put your body in danger in front of an old loophole
when scalding oil and molten lead furrow the walls.
.
And yet we should consider towards what we go forward,
not as our pain would have it, and our hungry children
and the chasm between us and the companions calling from the opposite shore;
nor as the bluish light whispers it in an improvised hospital,
the pharmaceutic glimmer on the pillow of the youth operated on at noon;
but it should be in some other way, I would say like
the long river that emerges from the great lakes enclosed deep in Africa,
that was once a god and then became a road and a benefactor, a judge and a delta;
that is never the same, as the ancient wise men taught,
and yet always remains the same body, the same bed, and the same Sign,
the same orientation.
.
I want nothing more than to speak simply, to be granted that grace.
Because we’ve loaded even our song with so much music that it’s slowly sinking
and we’ve decorated our art so much that its features have been eaten away by gold
and it’s time to say our few words because tomorrow our soul sets sail.
.
If pain is human we are not human beings merely to suffer pain;
that’s why I think so much these days about the great river,
this meaning that moves forward among herbs and greenery
and beasts that graze and drink, men who sow and harvest,
great tombs even and small habitations of the dead.
This current that goes its way and that is not so different from the blood of men,
from the eyes of men when they look straight ahead without fear in their hearts,
without the daily tremor for trivialities or even for important things;
when they look straight ahead like the traveller who is used to gauging his way
by the stars,
not like us, the other day, gazing at the enclosed garden of a sleepy Arab house,
behind the lattices the cool garden changing shape, growing larger and smaller,
we too changing, as we gazed, the shape of our desire and our hearts,
at noon’s precipitation, we the patient dough of a world that throws us out and
kneads us,
caught in the embroidered nets of a life that was as it should be and then
became dust and sank into the sands
leaving behind it only that vague dizzying sway of a tall palm tree.
.
Cairo, 20 June ’42

Ma life is as it should be ~

. . . . . . . . with all da confusion and struggle!

(In 1963, Seferis was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature)

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woody’s spirituality

WOODY’s SPIRITUALITY
Taj Mahal

Taj Mahal

.
Woody had a profound experience.  He lived in the woods in Brazil, close to Recife for 12 months with a tribe.  I asked him many times what he did in the forest.
.
All he said was that it was profound.
.
One day, when I nagged him again to tell me about Brazil, he gave me a note with the following written on it:
.
  1. I believe I can change my belief system
  2. I trust myself appropriately
  3. I rate myself worth 100%
  4. I reduce my fear to zero
  5. I trust people appropriately
  6. I allow myself the breath of life
  7. I increase my levels of focus to 95%
  8. I increase my balance to 95%
  9. I replace fear with trust
  10. In all situations, I STOP, LOOK AND LISTEN
  11. I replace careless rebellion with responsible rebellion
  12. All accept that there is something like synchrony in life and accidents are not my responsibility
I asked him what it is and he told me that one night, back in Brazil, an angel gave it to him.  That he will never reach his destiny till he learns these lessons.
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Then he got on a plane to India.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
more on my spirituality, see http://wp.me/PmCnZ-ih
and more on the Indian adventure, see The Dragon and the Seagull
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war

poppy

My family and I went out for supper that night.  In Cape Town.  I was in the mood for stories and after we ordered I told my kids how WWI started.

In 1914 there were two power blocks in Europe.  There was the Central Powers of Germany and Austria-Hungary and on the other side were the Allied Powers of Britain, France, Russia and Italy.

There was no love lost between the two camps and on June 28, 1914 a Serbian assassin killed the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife in Sarajevo.

Austria blamed Serbia for the assassination which was motivated by fierce nationalistic fever in Bosnia.

Austria made demands to Serbia which they gave in to, except one.  On July 28, 1914 Austria declared war against Serbia.

Russia declared war against Austria.  On August 1, Germany in turn declared war against Russia.  France mobilised against Germany in support of its allies and on August 3, Germany declared war against France.

Germany invaded the neutral nation of Belgium before it set its sights on France.  This event lead to the British declaring war against Germany on August 4.

The lines were drawn and World War I had begun.

On the web-site eyewitnesstohistory.com I came across this amazing account.  I read it to my kids.

“Richard Harding Davis was an American newspaper reporter and witnessed the German army’s march through the city [of Brussels in Belgium]. We join his account as he sits at a boulevard cafe waiting for the German arrival:

‘The change came at ten in the morning. It was as though a wand had waved and from a fete-day on the Continent we had been wafted to London on a rainy Sunday. The boulevards fell suddenly empty. There was not a house that was not closely shuttered. Along the route by which we now knew the Germans were advancing, it was as though the plague stalked. That no one should fire from a window, that to the conquerors no one should offer insult,

Burgomaster Max sent out as special constables men he trusted. Their badge of authority was a walking-stick and a piece of paper fluttering from a buttonhole. These, the police, and the servants and caretakers of the houses that lined the boulevards alone were visible.

At eleven o’clock, unobserved but by this official audience, down the Boulevard Waterloo came the advance-guard of the German army. It consisted of three men, a captain and two privates on bicycles. Their rifles were slung across their shoulders, they rode unwarily, with as little concern as the members of a touring-club out for a holiday.

Behind them so close upon each other that to cross from one sidewalk to the other was not possible, came the Uhlans [cavalry], infantry, and the guns. For two hours I watched them, and then, bored with the monotony of it, returned to the hotel. After an hour, from beneath my window, I still could hear them; another hour and another went by. They still were passing.

Boredom gave way to wonder. The thing fascinated you, against your will, dragged you back to the sidewalk and held you there open-eyed. No longer was it regiments of men marching, but something uncanny, inhuman, a force of nature like a landslide, a tidal wave, or lava sweeping down a mountain. It was not of this earth, but mysterious, ghostlike. It carried all the mystery and menace of a fog rolling toward you across the sea.

The German army moved into Brussels as smoothly and as compactly as an Empire State express. There were no halts, no open places, no stragglers. For the grayautomobiles and the gray motorcycles bearing messengers one side of the street always was kept clear; and so compact was the column, so rigid the vigilance of the file-closers, that at the rate of forty miles an hour a car could race the length of the column and need not stop – for never did a single horse or man once swerve from its course.

All through the night, like a tumult of a river when it races between the cliffs of a canyon, in my sleep I could hear the steady roar of the passing army. And when early in the morning I went to the window the chain of steel was still unbroken. It was like the torrent that swept down the Connemaugh Valley and destroyed Johnstown.

This was a machine, endless, tireless, with the delicate organization of a watch and the brute power of a steam roller. And for three days and three nights through Brussels it roared and rumbled, a cataract of molten lead. The infantry marched singing, with their iron-shod boots beating out the time.

They sang Fatherland, My Fatherland. Between each line of song they took three steps. At times 2000 men were singing together in absolute rhythm and beat. It was like blows from giant pile-drivers. When the melody gave way the silence was broken only by the stamp of iron-shod boots, and then again the song rose. When the singing ceased the bands played marches. They were followed by the rumble of the howitzers, the creaking of wheels and of chains clanking against the cobblestones, and the sharp, bell-like voices of the bugles.

More Uhlans followed, the hoofs of their magnificent horses ringing like thousands of steel hammers breaking stones in a road; and after them the giant siege-guns rumbling, growling, the mitrailleuses [machine guns] with drag-chains ringing, the field-pieces with creaking axles, complaining brakes, the grinding of the steel-rimmed wheels against the stones echoing and re-echoing from the house front. When at night for an instant the machine halted, the silence awoke you, as at sea you wake when the screw stops.

For three days and three nights the column of gray, with hundreds of thousands of bayonets and hundreds of thousands of lances, with gray transport wagons, grayammunition carts, gray ambulances, gray cannon, like a river of steel, cut Brussels in two.’”

References: Richard Harding Davis’ account appears in: Downey, Fairfax, Richard Harding Davis: His Day (1933); Keegan, John, The First World War (1999).’  (All quoted from Eyewitness to History)

Three evenings ago I was sitting in a Cape Town restaurant with my family and I read this to them.  My wife remarked that the account is biblical in proportions.

“That’s my point”, I told her.  ”It is biblical in proportion and the stories of World War I and World War II moves one.”

As I said, I was in the mood for story telling.  We just got our food and as everybody started with their meals, I started to tell another great war story.

The story about Major John McCrae, also from the Great War.

Major John McCrae was a veteran doctor who served in the Anglo Boer war in South Africa.  In 1915, during WWI he was stationed in Ypres, Belgium.

Here the 1st Field Artillery Brigade was engaged in a terrible 17 day long battle.  Casualties were sky high.  One death in particular shook McCrae.  Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa was killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915.

He was buried close to McCrae’s dressing station and McCrae had to perform the funeral ceremony in the absence of a chaplain.

McCrae was sitting in an ambulance the next day only a short distance from where his friend was buried.

McCrae took his note book and described the scene and his feelings in what became the most famous war poem of all times:

He wrote:

(**  Flanders was a region overlapping parts of Belgium, France and Holland)

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

Through the years poets wrote several replies to McCrae’s call.  The most beautiful to me is: “We shall keep the faith” by Moina Michael who was responsible for making the poppy the symbol of remembrance.

On November 9, 1918, two days before the Armistice for a meeting with the war-secretaries of the YMCA (Young Men’s Christian Organisation) she bought 25 poppies to use for the upcoming remembrance.

Here is her poem:

We shall keep the faith

Oh! You who sleep in Flanders’ Fields
Sleep sweet – to rise anew;
We caught the torch you threw,
And holding high we kept
The faith with those who died.

We cherish, too, the Poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led.
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.
But lends a lustre to the red
On the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders’ fields.

And now the torch and Poppy red
Wear in honour of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught:
We’ve learned the lesson that ye taught
In Flanders’ fields.

I am glad that I could share these stories with my kids. As I read the last stanzas of Moina Michael’s reply, I get a lump in my throat.  It is very emotional!

But, I compose myself and I get stuck into my steak. . .  and my kids think their father is  bit strange .
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eben van tonder – extreme writing

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for gabriela

love (1)

 

Closed off from love
I didn’t need the pain
Once or twice was enough
And it was all in vain
Time starts to pass
Before you know it you’re frozen

Ooooh…

But something happened
For the very first time with you
My heart melted into the ground
Found something true
And everyone’s looking ’round
Thinking I’m going crazy

Chorus:
But I don’t care what they say
I’m in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don’t know the truth
My heart’s crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open

Oooh, oooh…

Trying hard not to hear
But they talk so loud
Their piercing sounds fill my ears
Try to fill me with doubt
Yet I know that their goal
Is to keep me from falling

Hey, yeah!

But nothing’s greater
Than the rush that comes with your embrace
And in this world of loneliness
I see your face
Yet everyone around me
Thinks that I’m going crazy
Maybe, maybe

Chorus:
But I don’t care what they say
I’m in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don’t know the truth
My heart’s crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open

And it’s draining all of me
Oh they find it hard to believe
I’ll be wearing these scars
For everyone to see

I don’t care what they say
I’m in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don’t know the truth
My heart’s crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open and I
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love

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pain

PAIN

 

Pain and suffering is a scourge. I HATE it.
I see it in the lives of people that I love more than life itself.
I wanna trade my health for their affliction.
I wanna break into heaven to kick God in the nuts!
I wanna fuck the universe up!
. . . . . . I HATE it!

MIND-THOUGHT

Mind-thought – it is all so fucking pointless!
. . . . . . there is no fucking point!

EMOTION-THOUGHT

Deep love and empathy.
The stronger the connection – the more I also suffer.
PAIN becomes my pain!
. . . . . . mind-thought offers NO solution – PARADOX!

THE DIVINE

in the depth of human suffering
when there are no words to explain the pain
at the edge of endurance
at the point of insanity

she does not curse, she does not swear, she does not “fall apart”
sometimes shes bold
sometimes she hold onto a tread

dignity is her crown;
graciousness her step;

she wash her face;
she cloths herself;

. . . . . . she welcomes every new moment of life (despite the pain)

. . . . . . her life is the fingerprint of the divine

PAIN

There is a pain so severe that it cast the bearer into trench warfare against a beast;

Every moment is a battle;

And the beast, threatens to tear limb from limb;

And my loved one?

in the trench
damp and cold
lonely

Oh god, let me jump into that trench
help fight such a horrible beast

Let me help carry dignity, composure, courage and faith.

Let me stand as a comrade against the foe and not as an agent from darkness who weakens the resolve; distracts in the battle; tempt the bearer with compromise.

now, let me learn the meaning of love
being composed as she is
let me encourage her and love her
and help her not to fall apart

let me also become the fingerprint of the divine!

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The Dragon and the Seagull

The Dragon and the Seagull

A True Story


CHAPTER 01 – awakenings

CHAPTER 02 – rebirth

CHAPTER 03 – it is done

CHAPTER 04 – the god who is dead

CHAPTER 05 – reflection

CHAPTER 06 – the ghosts

CHAPTER 07 – the christians

CHAPTER 08 – purpose

CHAPTER 09 – real purpose

CHAPTER 10 – my ship

CHAPTER 11 – the engineer

CHAPTER 12 – vision of the past

CHAPTER 13 – jesus christ

CHAPTER 14 – truth

CHAPTER 15 – the tale of wisdom

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PREFACE

When I look in the mirror I see myself. I am real. I see ghosts around me. None of them are real. My entire life has been a search for meaning. Purpose.

40 years culminated last week when I decided that I would either find meaning or die!

A sea gull and an old dragon lead me through the jungle, to the water of meaning. I know why we are here. I know what is the purpose of our lives!

I dedicate this story to the seagull and the dragon.

You gave me meaning!

eben van tonder

cape town
south africa
January 2010

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lessons from africa – product spaces

There is reality and there is our perception of reality.  As humans we interact with the “real world” through our perceptions.  These belongs to a mental landscape that we live and breath and have our being in.

Product development is the interface between the “reality” as it exists apart from human observation and the mental “spaces”.  In the food services environment, it answers the question:  “how do we get the food that walks on the land or grows in the field into the mouth of the consumer”?

One can simply plug the crop or the animals into an existing mental space such as McDonald’s.  The cow walks on the field and the corn grows in the field.  We can plug the cow and the corn into the MacDonald Mental Space and the bread and beef patty will get to the consumer.

Or, one can develop a new mental or a product space for people to interact with.

threed

Every single marketing activity and business activity are geared to one end, namely to create a mental or a brand or a product space (all of which refer here to the same phenomena).

This mental space is vast and extensive in nature.  A few characteristics of these spaces are:

1.  It has an image:  An image of itself and image that it projects.  I.e. what people see from the outside and how people experience it.  It is the thing that it does for people.  Why people like it.

2.  It has its own mechanical processes:  It will have a set of processes (defined or undefined) that “makes it happen”.  How does the cow and the corn turn into flower and beef and how does this land on the plate of a consumer within a way and in a time that the consumer likes?

3.  It is independent:  It governs itself and is responsible for its own survival.

4.  It is a group of people and has many different processes:  It is a complex network of people and processes.

5.  It has a specific reason for being:  It exists to accomplish very specific outcomes.

Once this space has been created, it now facilitates the mental interaction between people and physical phenomena that we find around us.

personality

This development, namely that separate mental “spaces” must be created and endowed with character, personality, physical appearance and production and processing ability is the single greatest outcome of the human ability to think in the 3rd person.

When a new brand/ company/ service is created, the only limit we have is our imagination and the physical resources that we find around us.  But even with limited physical resources, the WAY in which these elements are combined are in human terms infinite and we should always be able to improve on these phenomenal spaces vastly.

Any new company or any change in an existing company must first and foremost create or change a mental space!

This is the exact same process for every individual person.  Personality in the final analysis can NOT be changed by our physical environment.  It is shaped by us creating a personal mental space about who we are and how the world must see us.  By the same token, it can ONLY be changed by changing our personal mental space where our personality reside.  The complete picture of ourselves begins by the creation of our own mental space.

When one creates a new business space, there must be a very close, almost complete 1:1 correlation between one’s own personal space and that of the business space.  Certain personality defects are inadvertently transmitted to the business or product space that is being created and even though it may be harmless on a personal level, some of these “weaknesses” may prove devastating to the business if it becomes part of the product or business space.

Conversely, personal strengths will be transmitted to the business or product space that is being created.

Sitting at the Southern Tip of the great African continent allows us to ask fundamental questions of the nature of what we are creating when we create a new brand/ business/ service/ interaction-module – whatever you want to call it – MENTAL SPACE!

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Chapter 13 – jesus christ

bombay

i recognise bombay.  the smell.  humidity.  endless streams of people.  the low rumbling of the city.  millions of hooters being blown by millions of cars – all the time.

i feel strangely at home.  this is bombay of my dreams and bombay that i love.

My princess sits me down against a wall.  the entrance to an old movie cinema.  she’s gonna meet Indian secret service agents – we have been asked to meet the prime minister of India.

on the island of god, after a tiger attacked me and ripped out my eyes – tore off my one hand; when christian nations sent troops to kill me.  after I assassinated god the father in his throne room;  the indian government sent military doctors and equipment to help.  saved my life.

now i can thank them for amazing kindness.

princess squeezes my hand gently – lets go.  all the smells of india and i can still smell her.  the body cream she puts on every morning.  dont want her to go.  dont go.

she has become my entire life.  Not because she guides me through life and helps me steer my ship.  Have fallen absolutely and completely in love with her.

she touches my face and kisses me.  when her lips touches mine – that feeling you get just before you fall asleep and you dream you are falling.  falling into nothingness.  That same sensation.  not falling into nothingness. . .  falling for her and falling for her amazing beauty.

Stroke her soft hair with the hand that was not ripped off.  soft. new.

we knew each other 1200 years ago when we lived in the south of Spain.  Always knew we were together before ~ even while she was still a seagull ~  transformed into a princess ~  lived many lives on earth together.  Still, I am in awe of her powers.  Not like a doctor-patient.  Like a companion who deeply respect the abilities of the other partner.
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More than anything, I am in love with her person.  her amazing intellect.  caring character. sense of humour.  the way she sleeps.  how she makes love.  her connectedness to everything.  her total being.
.
then she is gone.  i ‘blend in”.  In a city of a million beggars, its easy to be just another blind beggar against a wall.

my body aches.  last week at sea was a fight for life or death.  a unit of christian marines boarded the ship.  wanted to kill us before we reach Indian waters.

i shot two of them in our cabin.  was on the floor when another came through the door.  princess standing over me.  source downloaded images into my mind.  raised the gun in my hand.

the most bizare thing happened.

I saw the door opening, opening, opening, opening.

princess whispered.  her voice ~ like a song a knew long ago.  soft.  rhythmic.  gentle.

bulles

“look up”, she said.

above ~ i saw the sky.  dark rainclouds hanging over the ship.  pink and blue bubbles drifted down from heaven.  enormous.  floating.

she whispered in a song.

“pull them over you, eben.”

“pink, that you can know you are loved and precious.  confidence in your own worth.”

“blue, for protection from evil, negative energy.”

“reach up and take them!  do it now!”

Like in a dream I reached up.  They came floating towards me.  and they covered me.

pink and blue.

pink ~ i knew I am who I am and I loved it. . .

blue ~ the most bizarre thing happened.

i saw the door opening.  the gun.  then the soldier stopped.  hesitated.  hesitated.  spoke:   “FUCK this!  FUCK this!  NO FUCK this.  What a fucking time to think.  I’m NOT gonna kill you because we disagree.”

he stepped back.  His gun dropped to the floor.

“FUCK this!  The old man told me so much shit when I was a child.  Im actually glad you killed the mother fucker.  Making me feel all dirty when I was a child and I started to notice girls.  Hell, we were even told we could not play Rugby on a Sunday because that was somehow sin!  Telling me Im gonna go to hell if I dont enslave myself to his will and sell my mind.  No! Fuck this!  I’m glad he’s dead!”

“i believe in another god and that aint the one you killed!  you killed the right mother fucker!”

the soldiers brought us to land.  became our guardians.

All of a sudden I am exhausted.  I lean back against the wall with my head.  Millions of people walking past in front of me.

bombay2

Someone sits down next to me.  Suddenly source downloads images.  I see him.  In rags.  a wild beard. old hands.  old face.

i see the sky above us and bubbles floating down.  i want them to be BLUE.  I feel uncomfortable.  they are PINK.

Instinctively I pull one over me.  i feel confident and i love myself.  who i am.  what i became.  what i do.

the man reaches towards me.   princess appears.  just there.   just in time to see ~ he reached out towards me.  an old hand.  from an old man sitting next to me on the dirty steps of an old cinema in bombay.  touch my leg softly.  tentatively.  like a father with a son.

an old voice speaks.  softly.  whispering.

“I am thankful we finally meet, eben.”

“you were such a devoted child”. “I remember every cold morning you sat next to the heater, reading your bible.  I remember every prayer you made.”

“and i am so sorry for the hardship I caused in your life and that of so many people”

at the wrong time two Indian soldiers appear next to the princess.

the old man ~ startled.  thinks they came for him.

an old man hurries to his feet.  bends over and whispers in my ear.

“go and see the man who saved your life.  then meet me in cochin.  the first church I built in India is there.  meet me in the church”

“I am jesus christ”.

“we have lots to discuss”

then he disappears into the crowds.

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chapter 14 – truth (the seagull and the dragon)

I sit on the hard church pew. Waiting for Jesus to show up.

Thanked the Indian prime minister for saving my life.  An act of kindness for someone he die not know.

On the ship my princess, the dragon, the engineer, myself and a scientist from the planet Next-door-to-Everything created a new world ~ Wood’s World. The five creators are called “The Harmony”.

In the beginning of Woody’s World there was no chaos. Only light.  And silence.  And Harmony.

The spirit of the Harmony was floating over the pulses of light in the silence and The Harmony said: ” Let there be music and there was. And the Harmony saw that it was good. And there was silence and there was music.  The first day.

So Woody’s Wold was created on board my ship by The Harmony.  In 6 literal days.

The prime minister invited me to establish trade relations between Woody’s World and India since there is much music in India and they also loved silence.

He introduced me to a wise man from Cochin who makes the most beautiful music Who has a ship with a super crew. Has been sailing the seven seas for many years.

I go to Cochin with the sailor. In Cochin I find the old church.

Sitting on a hard church pew in Cochin, waiting for Jesus. I fell asleep and dream of swimming with whales, running at misty beaches in Cape Town and my princess – dancing in a solar flare.

I dont hear him approaching. He touches my shoulder. Source downloads. I see his 2000 year old face.

I look up. Blue or pink bubbles? But I dont see any. All I see, sitting next to me ~ a Wolf.  The Wolf licks my one remaining hand.

One hand to stroke the wolf. Touch the old mans hand. Motions him to sit down next to me.

Jesus sits down.

His eyes ~ full of sorrow and hardship. His voice ~ old and tired. Unsure.

“An old man does not tell lies” he says.

“Lies?” I ask him. “Who lied”?

“The three of us met in a different dimension, a long time ago. We build the christian-god-world the same way the Harmony build Woody’s World. It was such a great story. The crucifixion – so dramatic. And I would die. That was always the Fathers idea.”

The wolf gets restless. Nervously looking around. Sniffing.

“The Holy Spirit was working at a local night club providing ‘atmosphere’ before he joined us. The Father was an Accountant and I was a weather presenter at a local television station – the most unlikely team. They both liked my sister and we hung out at the same bar after work.”

“Thats where the christian-world was conceptualized and created. In a bar.”

He laughs and then starts coughing.

“Eben” he said with intent.

“I thought you were going to play by the rules we made up. How could you NOT do what the whole world expected you to do? You were supposed to be a preacher and help me preserve my kingdom.”

“I was furious with you at first. After you killed the Father. The Holy Ghost was strangely on your side. Told me and the 24 elders that he saw this coming for more than 300 years now. That the truth will be told. That the lie can not be protected forever. That even 2000 years of Christianity must come to an end.”

“I resisted! I hated you. That’s why I did the Television interviews and my nations tried to kill you.”

The wolf starts growling.

I gesture to Jesus to be silent. Great fear grips me. Source downloads and I see six men standing in a circle around us. Dressed in long robes. These are the Protectors of the Church realm. Protecting the Jesus lie.

I freeze. The Wolfs runs to the door. Someone is coming.

The six men, the Defenders turn around and face away from us. From under their robes they draw six long, broad bladed swords.

Holding the swords up ~ ready to defend.

Jesus grips my leg.

“Eben”, he whispers. “My time is up. I realize that. This is the end for me. What has a beginning must have an end. Nothing exits forever. Not even an ‘eternal’ god. Its how it is”

At that moment my princess comes running through the door. The sight takes my breath away. Her hair bouncing as she runs. Her slender body flying through the air.

Next to her ~ the wolf ~ long strides as he runs and on her other side ~ the DRAGON!

Her crystal clear voice, ringing out as she runs:

“Eben, you are light. Tell them that you are light. That light surrounds you and that they must run before you”. “Tell them who you are, Eben”.

Source downloads. No. Not downloads. Source fills me. My entire being. I feel Source in every cell of my body. Every neural impulse. All of me connects with Source.

I stand up and when I do I see light that fills the church. The light is shining from my soul. I speak and say: “I am light and light surrounds me and I am connected to Source. Now, flee before me!”.

Light blinds Jesus and the men standing around us. Try and protect their eyes. “NO Eben!” Jesus screams. “The light in you is blinding us. Don’t let your inner beauty shine. Don’t ever think the power is IN you! Your princess must not be heard!”

Princess reaches us. Grabs Jesus’ hand. “NO!” she shouts. “NO MORE!” “Its ENOUGH!”

As Jesus and the protectors fall to the ground. Squirming in terror before a force, unimaginably more powerful than they!

THE POWER OF SELF! TRUTH! BEAUTY!
.
.
The dragon and the seagull by eben van tonder

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Chapter 15 – the tale of wisdom

Sun is high and hot. Ground ~ dry and hard. I am wide awake. Adrenaline pumping.

Strange images float through my mind. Strange sounds ~ a vision

We were in another land. In my vision. Like before. The perfect woman who runs with wolves and dragons and subdues gods.

I am the Gutian king Eber. I rule and will rule over all of southern Mesopotamian. It is the land that the dragon and the bear gave me at my birth.

Below me in the valley ~ the city of Agada.

My generals told me that I can destroy the city, but there are wolves near by. They know the prophecy about Ishtar and the sacred wolves that leads me on my quest.

“Why not first offer to Ishtar and see if blood must be spilled here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the birth of the great Akkadian Empire around 2300 BC, in the city of Agada, lived the high priestess of Ishtar. Ishtar is translated as “the brilliant goddess” and the high priestess is called “the brilliance of the goddess”.

Nobody knows when she came there, but rumor has it that that she was 13 or14. She came on the back of a fearse dragon. The dragon was sent to her tribe to kill everyone who did not seek harmony and truth and who harmed children.

When the vicious dragon arrived at the gate to the city, she freed herself from the cage where she was held hostage. Opened the city gates for the dragon. But she did not allow him in. Bowed down to him and begged for the lives of her tribesmen who abused her all her life and who kept her locked up in a cage.

The dragon, moved to tears by her kindness, caught a tear from her eyes and turned it into a pearl. Three pearls to become a goddess herself. . . for all the suffering she has seen and experienced and the good that is in her heart. He would spare her tribe, but she ~ become the mother of all the earth ~ her destiny. The sign ~ three pearls made from her tears.

Put her on his back and brought her to Agada where he build a temple for her outside the city and where he protected her till the fullness of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eber was a boy who spoke to gods at the age of 7. God protected him from great evil by giving him visions of the future and the past and a great wolf to protect him.

He grew and became the Gutian king. But his wolves hunted to the south of Mesopotamia and his soul was bound by their movement. He asked the gods once to send a warrior to unite the people of the south and the gods told him: “You go”.

So it came about that he camped outside Agada where he saw visions of a woman who would turn the hearts of the fathers back to the children and will proclaim good tidings to the innocent and liberation to the captives. To restore values and harmony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eber arrived at the dragon-temple. Alone.

The wolves and the dragon sensed ~ attacked. Eber was defenseless. When they attacked he threw his spear from him ~ being sick of the spilling of blood.

The wolves tore his hands to shreds. Eber tried to protect his throat. The dragon ~ about to deal the death blow ~ then ~ “Brilliance” called out! “NO MORE BLOODSHED!” “NO MORE DEATH”!

Eber looked up and saw the priestess who saved his life and the dragon and the wolves by her side. it was her! The woman of his visions. Not a woman ~ a princess!

In that moment soul connected. The universe changed. Union. Creation.

Fell in love with her.

He called out to her: “My dear, dear Brilliance. You must know how you consume my entire life. It is not out of debt. Neither a sense of obligation for saving my life. It is purely for whom you are! I fell in love with your beauty and your harmony. The song in your heart. Your magnificent soul that soars through the heavens. I know you through countless visions!”

Eber asked the prophetess to allow him to sacrifice.

But, contrary to custom. . . .not for the the sacking of the city ~ he asked the goddess for the love of the priestess.

He made choice. In that moment, his entire life changed. He would never go back to his old life again.

The goddess granted him the request, and after he sacrificed she changed the priestess’s name to “Wisdom”.

Wisdom told Eber: “I am so sorry that my wolves tore flesh from your hands. With your permission, I would like to try a process with this?”

Eber: “Eternal Wisdom and Beauty, yo always have my permission. As I sat up to drink some water, I heard your words and thought: ‘so many amazing ladies served me as their the king. They are nothing to me. In an instant you became my world. When I saw you ~ the very first vision”

Eber walked to her at the altar and held her hands. Bloody hands holding perfection: “Only one i care for. Only one who owns my heart!! Only one! And here she is ~ the girl of my visions. Life and beauty!”

Wisdom spoke words of the future; not her own, but she remember them well from a life to come:

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,

Only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness;

So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,

Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence”.

Eber ~ with tears running down his scarred face: “Thanks for letting my soul speak, princess of my dreams!! I, the king try and speak for my soul most of the time, but its also not fair on him. I have to give him a chance to speak for himself some times. And my soul told you how he adores you forever. you are the reason for his existence”

“But, now my kings mind is in “fight” mode again. Adrenaline is pumping. Clear on my objectives for the day. Wide awake! Sees everything. Eber is in charge. Choices to be made!”

Wisdom: “Thank you for trusting me enough to have your soul speak”.

“I have a sense that you need to be a little patient with your body still. If it needs more rest, you are obliged to allow it. Don’t act now. First rest and heal”

Eber stayed at the temple for days until, one morning he woke her in her chamber with these words:

“And Good morning beautiful Wisdom!”

“Yes. . . I agreed to rest till Wednesday. Three weeks from our meeting. And the time is past and my healing complete. and your beauty makes me act!!! Thank you!!!!!

Eber gave the sword of kingship to his most trusted general and told him to take the city, but no man, woman, child or animal can be killed. And to unite the southern tribes and to prosper for the people.

Eber and Wisdom were given a passage to Spain.

So profound was the union between Eber and “Wisdom” that it changed history. The Wisdom of Knowledge was cronicled by Eber’s students, reportedly around 250 years after his death.

This work became the basis for the gnostic concept of Wisdom. This concept is again the basis for the legend in Pistis Sophia. Scholars put the creation of the five remaining texts of the Pistis Sophia around the 5th century AD.

Years later Wikipedia wrote about her:

The female divinity of gnosticism is Wisdom , a being with many aspects and names. She is sometimes identified with the Holy Spirit itself but, according to her various capacities, is also the Universal Mother, the Mother of the Living or Resplendent Mother, the Power on High, She-of-the-left-hand (as opposed to Christ , understood as her husband and he of the Right Hand), as the Luxurious One, the Womb, the Virgin, the Wife of the Male, the Revealer of Perfect Mysteries, the Holy Dove of the Spirit, the Heavenly Mother, the Wandering One, or Elena (that is, Selene, the Moon). She was envisaged as the Psyche of the world and the female aspect of Logos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

there is no such thing as reincarnation, but soul-quanta can not be destroyed and re-enters reality time and time again with memory from past realities. it is speculated by some that the reunion of the spirit of Wisdom and Eber happened a few thousand years after the date fixed by arbitration for the birth of the man Jesus Christ. A Weather Reporter who would join up with two friends to form a myth to protect the earth till the time was fulfilled for Wisdom to appear again and shine.

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Chapter 16 – dragons’ island


I have been here before. This same touch. Smell. Emotion. Just before the soldiers struck.

No soldiers tonight. Just the last lingering moments of the commentary by an unknown narrator about the legend of Wisdom in the land or Agada and Spain.

I force myself to stay awake. Never want to leave this space. Here. Now. Never.

Princess is fast asleep. Pull her closer. Kiss her soft back. Stroke my fingers through her short, soft hair. She moves closer to me.

Breathing. . . rhythm. She dreams. . . makes soft gentle sounds. The warmth of her body. . . caresses my skin. Bliss.

Soft skin. Slow breathing. Gentle sounds. Warm body. Rocking motion of the ship.

Our space.

Eternal experience. Symphony of grandeur. Objectively, independently existing. Forever. Dancing on shock waves of constellations ~ smashing into each other. Stars being born. Destroyed. Symphony of grandeur. Harmony of light. Worlds being formed. Connections fused by the magic of synchrony.

Silk skin. Flawless rays of light . . self propagating quanta. . . gliding effortlessly, eternally in her perfect body. No motion lost.

My lips touch her skin. Light changes direction. Glides. Gravitational pull of my lips on her skin bends light of her being towards my lips. Wave lengths. Frequency. Colour. Explode on my lips.

Translate into patterns. Connects with millions of neuron-transmitters. Activates. Synergises. Forms. What has never been. Swirling. Endless seas of ecstasy. Touched the soul. Releases chemicals. Heightens awareness. Shortens breath.

She turns around. Unexpectedly. Kisses my lips.

Soul releases. Spirit and particles become undone. All particles of my being falls. I feel each one of them.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Then ~ reconstitutes. Reconnects. My being boots up. She knows. . .

Smiles. Turns around. Deep sleep.

My soul connects. Seas without end. Deep. Turquoise. Dragons splashing in the surf.

Gliding through the deep. Playing with sea monsters.

When I wake she is sitting by the cabin window, looking out over the bay. Excitement in her voice.

“Come, we are here.”

“Dragon’s Island.”


sea-dragon

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Chapter 17 – I am disabled


One moment bliss. The next moment despair. Who wired this fucked up eben?

She left the ship a few days ago. A dragon came for her. I’m alone.

I wanted to go along. Got up. Could not find my fucking pants. SOURCE showed her sitting by the window. Beauty. Peace. Love. Warmth. All of a sudden

I cant get my goddam cloths on the floor.

adult eben went to bed. child eben woke up.

child snapped.

“GO!”

“FUCK, I’m a goddam blind disaster”

“Living a fucked up life!”

“beauty around me. Fucking pity i can’t SEE the fucking beauty!!!” A fucking blind, cripple fucking disaster!”

“talking to fucking animals”

“a seagull-princess that is and is not”

“haven’t seen my kids in months” “miss my little girl” “my worrier son”

“should never have tried design another fucking ship ~ at 24.” “FUCK dreams!!!” “should have been on a ship that was working ~ any ship”.

“Would not have been this fast or great. At least its a ship and I would have been around the world by now.”

WHAT YOU DID NOT HAVE WAS TIME TO FUCK AROUND WITH YOUR FUCKING OWN PLANS

“should have become a day-trader for a bank. earned lotsa cash. build a big house. flat screen TV’s. Holiday overseas. Hiked across Brazil. Swam in the Arctic. Hunted in Alaska. Climbed the great mountains.”

“here I am – a blind fucking nut case!”

heard her leave. talking to the dragon. “told you he was not ready”

should not have heard that. I yell “FUCK”. Knocks a glass off the table. Shatters. . . shatters. . . shatters . . .

FEEL SICK. VOMIT ON THE FLOOR.

remembered:
when i was 12 we had to choose a woodwork project. I chose to make a TV cabinet. Way beyond the ability of a 12 year old. Bought wood. For a year . . . told friends about my cabinet. Never got past sanding and cutting wood. Got an “A” for effort. Never completed it.

remembered:
sitting at harbor. On a pallet’s. talking about A FUCKING DREAM SHIP! Why do we think we can think when we are TWENTY-FUCKING-FOUR?
Came to the harbor when I was in the army when the harbor was constructed. Me and friends. Looked at it. Stood in the place where the pallet was.

Had no money, no girl, no ship. . . just dreams.

Tried to build a ship. My first attempt. Was 29. Lost the ship. Smashed it against the goddam rocks of ignorance.

No money . . . came to the harbor for someone to give me some money to start again. Same spot.

Learned my friend had a brain tumor. Came to the harbor. Sat on the same pallet. Cried like a goddam baby.

People from America asked me to launch a boat for them. In africa. Launched it ~ here. At the harbor. Stood on this fucking pallet watching the ship sail.

Feel like Im still on that pallet. No money. No girl. No dream! 15 years later!

Child eben.

Im looking at him. On the floor. Between vomit and broken glass.

Source fills the room. White light, pulsating pink, red and blue. Manifests as a woman of light standing next to me. Looking at child. Concern.

Im perplexed. She ~ silent.

Suddenly Child looks up. “Smiles” “GOT YA!!!”

Gets up from the floor. “Had bad sea food last night” “wanted to vomit all morning”.

He gets up and rubs my head. . . .

“sail someone else’s ship?” – he laughs

“and the TV cabinet when we were 12 ~ easiest “A” we ever got. Woodwork my ares. You got it for telling a good story and having a stupid teacher!!”

“talking to animals – you love your seagull-princess. Would have hated it if she was ‘normal’. THAT is exactly who you are – you love it when things are NOT normal! The exceptional. The totally unique. And she IS a one-of-a-kind! The whole team is.”

“Eben, you are a nut-case surrounded by many! But they are all exceptional!”

He strokes with his one hand through the image of SOURCE. Gently. Playfully.

“well, SOURCE old buddy. . . . I even had you fooled there for a second, did I not?”

Child closes the cabin door behind him. . . . . “a day trader for a bank. . . fuck. . . just imagine the disaster that would have been. Just imagine!!”

Im stunned. Looks at SOURCE. SOURCE looks at me. Asks: “Wanna join princess on dragon’s island? Have a quick way to get you there!”

Door opens unexpectedly. Child.

“Lemme clean up the vomit”. Go to your island ~ im watching the Arsenal game with the engineer in the lounge.”

“One more thing ~ dear SOURCE, before you go, could you help me with this eyes thing. I am still blind you know and I really wanna see the game”

. . . you will never walk alone. . .

* a tribute to the exceptional people in my life*

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Chapter 18 – pink bubbles


in the cabin with source. “Ready?” she asks.

“Lets go”

Light connects with matter. Matter bridges. Light.

Soul floats. Across the side of my ship. Over the deep turquoise sea. Towards the island and my princess.

I see dragons. Everywhere. Playing. I see the castle. The courtyard. The old white tree in the middle of a perfect circle of moon rock. Overgrown with creepers. Lush.

I see princess holding out a stick with marshmallows on the end. A dragon comes forward. Gently blows fire. She laughs and eats the melted, warm, soft marshmallow.

Pink bubbles around me.

I float.

Then I see her next to me. I look down. A young dragon fries another marshmallow from her stick. She ~ beautiful. Magnificent. Forever young.

She floats next to me. White and pure. Indomitable. Immaculate. Complete. Flawless. In tact. Loved. Connected. A soul purified. Complete. Floating on pink bubbles.

She looks at me. Still. Smiles. Silent. Content.

I reach out and tough her face. Soft. Bright. Bliss.

Her eyes. . . deep . . .

I look.

My gaze ~ pulled into hers. Souls connect. Union. Inseparable. Eternal. Not like the moon rock. Not like the white tree. Deep and eternal.

I float away from the island. Away from my princess. Away from the dragons. Away from my friends. Pink bubbles takes me away.

I see princess eating and playing with the dragons. My soul rests. My being exhales.

Deep and long. Content. Perfect union.

Like an alloy that is formed in great heat can never be separated. Union forged souls in the fire of being. Never to be undone. Creation. Eternal. Transcendent. Resplendent beauty.

And my soul soars. over deep oceans. blue. surf smashing against continents. wind driving great waters. Over majestic, magnificent, towering mountains.

through stages of being. to the source of all light and life and beauty. To the beginning and end of all things. To “is”.

to perfection. on pink bubbles.

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Chapter 19 – deliverance

My soul dances with the stars. Rides on dust from colliding galaxies. Skips through meteor belts criss-crossing constellations. My great Valhalla.

Constellations forms. Invisible order. Relationships. Ever changing. Ever evolving.

In the middle of nothingness a child sits. Legs crossed. Playing with a single beam of light amidst an ocean of darkness.

Shock-waves of constellation entanglements ~ deadly dances of fate, pulsating overhead.

I drift to him.

Looks at me. Eyes ~ big, blue. Radiant. Alert. Inquisitive.

“Are you SOURCE”, I ask.

“Here”, he says, holding out the sunbeam.

Hands tremble. Take it. He laughs.

Light touches my hand. Flesh. Illuminates.

I see.

12 energies sitting in a circle. Two men. 10 woman ~ three middle aged and 6 ~ young.

On a token of authority behind them ~ the white wizard.

In the center of the circle ~ universes upon universes; constellations upon constellations.

The white wizard questions someone in the seat of healing. Worlds are formed in the center of the circle by the 12 energies at the prompting of the white wizard; formed, then ordered and then released “to be”.

The wizard looks at me. Asks me to sit in the seat of healing.

“What do you see”, the white wizard asks and points to the centre of the circle, where worlds are formed, changed,  released.

I see an American Nightingale. I hear her sing to her beloved. About the love of the purple sky, the sea of tranquility, the circles of connectedness, bliss, being and “is”.

They look into each others eyes. Caress. Sings. Words ~ soft and moist.

Lips kiss. Hearts dances. Souls touch.

About symmetrical companionship. Sing with May Swenson:

Symmetrical Companion
It must be
there walks somewhere in the world
another
another namely like me

Not twin
but opposite
as my two hands are opposite

Where are you
my symmetrical companion?

Do you inhabit
the featureless fog
of the future?
Are you sprinting
from the shadows of the past
to overtake me?
Or are you camouflaged
in the colored present?
Do I graze you every day
as yet immune to your touch
unaware of your scent
inert under your glance?

Come to me
Whisper your name
I will know you instantly
by a passport
decipherable to ourselves alone

We shall walk uniformed
in our secret
We shall be a single reversable cloak
lined with light within
furred with dark without

Nothing shall be forbidden us
All bars shall fall before us
Even the past shall be lit behind us
and seen to have led
like two predestined corridors
to the vestibule of our meeting

We shall be two daring acrobats
above the staring faces
framed in wheels of light
visible to millions
yet revealed only to each other
in the tiny circular mirrors
of our pupils

We shall climb together
up the frail ladders
balancing on slender
but steel-strong thongs of faith
When you leap
my hands will be surely there
at he arc’s limit
We shall synchronize
each step of the dance upon the wire
We shall not fall
as long as our gaze is not severed

Where are you
my symmetrical companion?

Until I find you
my mouth is locked
my heart is numb
my mind unlit
my limbs unjoined

I am a marionette
doubled yp in a dark trunk
a dancer frozen
in catatonic sleep
a statue locked
in the stone

a Lazarus wrapped
in the swadling strips
not of death
but of unborn life

a melody bound
in the strings of the viol
a torrent imprisoned
in ice
a flame
in the coal
a jewel hidden
in a block of lava

Come release me
Without you I do not yet exist

They release each other. They are the symmetrical companions.

Then the song ends. They are strong. He says: “Go for a long walk, my love. Dont be back soon. go down to the stream of hope, in the garden of beauty”.

Lips meet. Embrace. Releases. But NOT their souls. Sadness. Immense sadness! These stay fused forever!

She ~ gets up. runs outside.

At a stream of hope, in the garden of beauty, she sits down.

She hums to herself. A soft, gentle murmur. Only the trees around her can hear ~ barely. But they can and they carry the soft murmur. Hand it to the sky. Who hands it to the clouds and the winds. Who gently drifts it over sees of grey and turquoise. Over great lands and lakes and majestic mountain ranges.

Every animal stops and look up. Every plant unfolds itself and listens. The sadness in the song. The pathos of the moment. The inconsolable words of John Donne. The VALEDICTION of a FORBIDDING MOURNING.

AS virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
“Now his breath goes,” and some say, “No.”

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move ;
‘Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th’ earth brings harms and fears ;
Men reckon what it did, and meant ;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers’ love
—Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, ’cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix’d foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th’ other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th’ other foot, obliquely run ;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

She hums this song over, and over, and over again. Till there are no more tears in all the earth to cry, by anyone or anything alive.

Elephants pane for their lost calf’s; young girls for virgin love; men for spilled chances; everyone reminded of their loss by the soft murmuring of the American Nightingale who mourns.

Then she gets up. Her feet runs back to her beloved. The fusion of her soul. The birth of their new being. Companionship unending. Love volcanic. and she throws herself on the bed, next to her dead beloved who took much to much morphine for the cancerous pain in him.

And symmetrical companions lay side by side on that bed. The ones skin grey and the other symmetrical.

the white wizard moves to comfort the broken hearted and let dead fathers speak to sons. . . words that should have been spoken but were not. Moments before the end.

As the American Nightingale’s soul was fused to that of her beloved and remained fused after death, the son, for the first time feels fusion of his soul with his father who lives and breaths and have his being though the son.

And the son knows ~ every experience, every tear, every story, every friend ~ he is the result of a life well lived! Not just his own, but that of his father and his fathers father and his fathers father’s father. just like the nightingales beloved lives forever in her. and sings through her. every song, every night a silent tribute to him and their eternal love.

The white wizard sets up constellations and galaxies are born. Of eternal love and hope and choices that are ones own and respect for those choices. Words unspoken. lives unlived. Dreams, not yet begun.

Swirling universes upon universes and constellations upon constellations and in my hand a single sunbeam of sunlight which I hand back to the child.

and I am transported back to my ship. to my princess. the fusion of my soul. my life. eternal companion. my hope and dreams and fate ~ friends and crew.

and a life to be fulfilled.

and as I embrace my princess and kiss her deep and long and passionately, and my mind swirls and stutters from the greatness of the visions it had, I look up and on the railing of the ship there sits, with her clear voice and eternal song, an American Nightingale. and tears stream from my eyes.

The American Nightingale sings a song for me. Haunting. Beautiful. Like the song in her own Gethsemane, she sings of Gethsemane Conceit. About my liminal being ~ the choice to be or not to be. The choice I had to make today:

Feather fault lined
Caesura,

liminal being, to be
or not

Ebon-tethered
Enjambment, I
cry

Scalding
Spondees

Trope
Trope
Trope

Aortal
Aborted
Assonance

Facile

Viral

Apostrophe

Deliver me

and as I hear the beautiful song I know that the struggle has been long and hard; search ~ unending; life ~ un-lived;

here, today, as I feel the warm breath of my beloved princess against my neck; smell her; feel her soft hair; her eternal soul; bonding, bonding, bonding ~ i see the majestic moon and dragons playing in the seas around us ~ i know:

deliverance ~ uncertain.

certainty are friends; companions; comrades; lands unconquered; battles unfought; stories yet untold and the dragon who now sleeps with me, every night.

and the love of my soul; the fusion of my heart; the passion of my being; reason for my sanity ~ my song; the answer to my struggles ~ a beautiful princess!

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Chapter 20 – the riders

note to the reader: listen to  J.S. Bach – Air on the G String, Sarah Chang while reading.

.

worlds without end ~ peoples, emerging from an eternal sleep. this is the great land of africa.

The ship is anchored in the atlantic, west of south africa.

Woody’s World was created. a mind-model. a platform to teach “self”. self-propagating, living system that grows and adapts according to the environment it is inserted in and show people the path to self and true freedom.

Woody’s Morality. Modelled after the lessons that the seagull taught:

“People dont need no saviour. each woman, man and child can feed their hunger, access their eye sight, hear, feel, be, grow hands, run, soar and love. true power and salvation is from within.”

Morality married model and Woody’s World got its own soul.

Integration was done by the same team who constructed the new world. Harmony.

the engineer who runs the ship. the seagull-princess who guides us and gives soul. the architect who works remotely from the great North American continent. The American Nightingale who has abilities without end. my dragon and I. This is the group called “Harmony”.

The creators.

Africa ~ the first place of integration.

I’m just South of Capricorn. On the continent. Inspecting the African land. Organizing the ground-movement. Local support. Meeting with farmers and a tribe from up north who will take us into the heart of Africa.

The engineer ~ on the ship – manning the command and control room. Ensuring the system properly integrates with local conditions.

The architect ~ North America ~ creating engagement platforms. Talking to the hearts of the inhabitants of earth.

The American Nightingale ~ in Denver. Building international support. Writing the battle song. A beautiful symphony of sound.

My seagull-princess ~ in the “Land of the Franks” ~ replenishing. Suspended. Integrating. Caring. Anticipating the future.

my dragon ~ next to me. keeping the christians and self doubt at bay.

I wake up ~ middle of the night. I see and hear them! Four horseman ~ dispatched to stop us. Upsetting old orders of control and domination. dictators, geed and darkness!

Horses gallop ~ determination. Hooves beating down on hard african soil. Eyes wild. Nostrils flare. Sweat running down strong masculine necks.

Four riders in four black, heavy saddles. Four wide bladed swords. Four bows to stop the future. Four Names: Incompetence, Compromise, Un-productivity and Pride.

I can hear the riders coming. I realize ~ this can be my last fight. on the african continent is only me and my dragon – and the riders are coming. My companions are not here. Never anticipated an attack.

Great anger fills me. Frustration. Angst. Passion takes hold of me. Fear ~ but not paralyzing ~ fear that puts steel in ones muscles. Grab my armour. Runs out of the tent pitched next to Capricorn.

“DRAGON!,” I roar.

“TO BATTLE!”

“RIDERS ARE COMING FOR US!”.

As he gets to his feet I swing myself onto his back.

My dragon roars! All the earth stands still and listens. Fire spews from his mouth. My soul and his ~ fused. Every muscle, every roar, every tail movement ~ mine as much as it is his.

Images explode in my mind. My princess. My ship. Harmony. Woody’s World. Years of planning and now THE RIDERS. Who the fuck dispensed them? Jesus Christ is dead by now. God the father ~ assassinated by my own hand. Holy Ghost locked up in a cage on an island!

“WHO the fuck!”

Mind feeds into Soul. Soul into Dragon. We race towards the Horseman who speed across the desert land of central south africa.

I am ready to die. I feel my sword on my side. As if in slow motion I see Engineer in front of the control’s. His passion and commitment.

I see the Architect. Nights without sleep. So much almost-finished convinsings.

Feel their passion. I taste their commitment. I connect with their souls.

Feel the American Nightingale talking to editors and writers. In the middle of her keynote address in Denver. I sense her and she looks up. In the middle of her speech.

She sees me on the dragon ~ sword in my hand ~ sees the four horseman coming to meet me.

All my companions do.

SOURCE comforts the mind. I wonder if this happens before death. last moments. drug for the horrific. Air on the String Orchestral Suite No.3 by J. S. Bach.

First faint and then louder. Haw many nights did I listen to it when I was working and building the World of my dreams.

I seek connection with Princess-Seagull. In the Land of the Franks. Nothing. The great Pyrenees blocks me.

The base scales of Bach captures my soul as we do low flying over magnificent african nights.

The pure graceful beauty of this air ~ the beauty of slowly descending major scale baseline. Heavenly. Seemingly the only moving object while the other instruments hovers and glides like a kite above it. A base effect that now mimics the motion of my soul as I speed towards WAR!

We meet in the Fredefort Dome, where a commit flattened the earth millions of years ago and created a vast flatland surrounded by hills in the North Free State of South Africa.

The riders ~ in flatland already. I hear the horses thunder.

I draw my sword. My companions in the Harmony looks up ~ knowing that the end may come swiftly. They stand up.

I ~ no words for them.

just deep gratitude that they believed. For my ship. For being part of the adventure of a lifetime. Souls fused. Learning about life and love.

I lift my sword ~ a salute to them.

Engineer turns computer off as he gets up; Architect drops camera in his hand. Falls to the marble floor ~ shatters into a million pieces.

Nightingale looks ~ not at me. With the soft movements of the piano tones, sprinkled in between Sarah Chang’s violin strings, my eyes follow the Nightingales gaze to the East.

from the great Pyrenees, across Spain I can hear her voice. It floats on the notes of Bach; across valleys of deep sorrow, filled with hope and vision. Its my princess and she sings. She counsels in the moment of destruction.

Before the missiles hit and my life is destroyed forever. Before Harmony ceases to exist and each go their own way to a lonely and uninspiring existence.

She speaks and I integrate.

I remove my shoes. Stand in the green grass. I breath the breath of life. I call on my dragon and Michael for help. My counsel for guidance and intervention. I acknowledge to Gaia, the mother of all living earth, that the Riders are Powerful.

I was riding to engage them: Incompetence, Compromise, Un-productivity and Pride.

My princess directs my soul. I refuse them. I refuse their coming into my life.

Tell them that I respect them. lift my sword in a salute. Then ~ turn and . . . . walk away.

cast my sword into the river.

“I will not fight them. I will not receive their challenge. They are not mine.”

I sit down on the soft, green grass next to the willow tree.

I cross my legs.

Throw my head back.

I continue to breath.

Sarah Chang invades my mind. gives birth to Bach who now echoes through my soul. Connects with harmony.

The Nightingale looks at me from the podium. Silent. Smiles knowingly. She has always known.

the engineer and the Architect sits down. Relieved. Dazed.

and I dance with my princess, high above the Pyrenees on the soothing melody of the master, performed by Sarah Chang.

never will there be war again in this great land. never will blood be spilled for an idea.

i dance above the mountains of hope. and the conductor smiles at the violinist as she plays her smoothing magical songs and connects with the spirit of the divine.

————————– ————————– ———

the dragon and the seagull : http://wp.me/PmCnZ-6f

woody’s world: http://www.woodysbrands.co m (please, join our fan-page)

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chapter 21: the tribe from the north

She touches my hand. Heart stops. Being reboots. Starts up again.

I assure her of eternal love. Talk about witches-charms and weddings. Morsels of hope for tomorrow.

She tells me great tales of endurance and courage in the face of adversity.

A child who was left in the snow by a careless parent and who walked home – for ten years!

A girl who was raised with wolves and was only rescued after she left her teenage years behind.

A man who could overcome asthma by using only the power of his mind.

A world that was born by the decree of five creators.

A beautiful woman who was given a deadly sign inside of her that she is overcoming every day more and more.

Tales almost to good to be true. but they are factual. every single one of them. and they created gold – more than is beneath the soil of the great african land. gold in the spirit of one woman!

Her beautiful voice is still telling the tales when ~ the cry of a child behind me.

I turned to see the child.

“Come home to your children, Tata Eben”, the child says with tears in his eyes.

My soul is bound to his words. I look at my princess. . . the love of my life. . . the poem and song of my spirit. She tells me to go.

“I will find you in africa my love” – she whispers.

Our souls meet in a kiss. passion. then gone. like two people at the bottom of an escalator who glance at each other for a second and go their separate ways. hoping that temporal will become eternal. hoping. hoping. then gone. for now.

I no longer dance across the Pyrenees. I am back in my africa with his million golden daybreaks. and next to me – my dragon.

My dragon gets up. Fast. Growls. Not at me! Someone is coming!

I ground myself. Breaths.

Through the bush. . .

the engineer!

Determined! Bright! Focussed!

We talk for hours. Under an african tree. About Woody’s World. About integration of systems. Development. Creation. Life.

Dragon growls again. we jump to our feet. I ground myself. gets on the back of and eagle and surveys the landscape. See a tribe approaching.

They came from the north.

They appear as if out of the morning mist. From nowhere. Manifested by the gods of this great land. by the spirits of the ancestors whom we worship here.

The leader walks up to the engineer and I. He tells a frightening tale of desolation.

About animals dying of thirst. Of rainclouds that never rains. Of children who cry for food every night.

Source downloads into my being. Spirit opens up. Understanding appears like a horse galloping at full speed. Like a gentle breeze that blows from the sea.

Moments connect. Mind links with Nightingale, Architect, Engineer, my dragon.

Woody’s World becomes the integration point of hope. The platform of deliverance. The nightingale wants to write about this. About the words of my princess – for months now. About new values for a new world. To connect a tribe from the north and their great wealth to needy children and opportunities – unimaginable.

My princess ~ more connects than just values. Values leads to action. Hungry children and men with asthma ~ both have the power to overcome and the power is within them.

It all connects!

Gaia brought us to this point. Here in africa. at this junction. at the center of the once great continent of Pangaea. Where Africa rose op. South America, Australia, Madagascar – drifted off.

Here, at the southernmost tip of africa a story is being told. Integration between values and action. Power that has been given to every woman, man and child.

Enemies discover true power ~ not in dictators, but in integration. In accessing the power inside.

Here a new story is being written. Never far from chaos. Pregnant with hope. Drenched with faith and certainty!

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the harmony

GENESIS


“the harmony”, also called “the creators”, is the name given to the group of people, who are responsible for creating Woody’s World in the real life account in “the dragon and the seagull“.

The week-by-week account is written by eben van tonder and is his personal account of the adventure of him and oscar klynveld as they are creating a new persona called Woody.

This project saw the creation of a persona called Woody Bolt.  He is endowed with human personality and characteristics such as values, goals, hopes, dreams, a personal history and interaction platforms with the real world (i.e. he has an actual function in time and space).

WOODY’S BRANDS

Woody comes into the natural world primarily through his brands (for example Woody’s Bacon).  He enters human consciousness through various communication media, but primarily through his web presence.

Woody is much more than just a brand.  Woody is the conduit that the team uses to interact with the world on issues of personal and corporate development, – empowerment, sustainability and values-centred living.

All food brands are traded through Woody’s Brands (Pty) Ltd.  eben van tonder and oscar klynveld are responsible for setting up and managing this company.

WOODY’S VALUES

The Woody’s brand is about being the best you can be.  It is an aspirational brand at the core – it is about working hard to make your dreams come true, and equally indulging beyond cautious moderation in the gifts of friends and food.  It is about people interconnecting, and finding common purpose to make collective and individual dreams come true.

THE HARMONY

Oscar Klynveld

Oscar Klynveld started his career in retail almost 10 years ago in Transwest Distributors, in Potchefstroom, South Africa.  He has been the Managing Director (CEO) of this company for the last 5 years with a distinguished career in sales, merchandising, warehousing and distribution for some of Africas largest corporates in an area where it is notoriously difficult to do distribution in due large distances and the relative small size of the populations of the different towns.

In this environment, Oscar thrived and build Transwest into a company who services all market segments, not just as a distributor, but also as one of the leading wholesalers in the region.

Oscar was appointed to the Board of Directors of Woody’s Brands (Pty) Ltd. at the beginning of 2010 and has subsequently also been appointed as the Managing Director (CEO) of this company.

Oscar brings tremendous drive to the project and the ability to think in terms of watertight systems.

He lives in Potchefstroom, South Africa.

eben van tonder

Eben has a distinguished career in sales, marketing, brand management and product development. Early in his career he worked extensively in all aspects of the retail supply chain. Working on both the strategic and tactical angles, he has an astonishing track record of exceeding sales and marketing goals – often doubling and tripling sales goals in aggressive timelines.

Eben is a director at Woody’s Brands (Pty) Ltd, and a trustee in deKomper Trust.  Eben has extensive experience in conceptualizing and implementing of brand strategies and channel management.

Eben currently lives in Johannesburg, South Africa

The most influential person who impacted ebens thinking is Sophia Krone.

Sophia Krone

Sophia is a uniquely gifted business consulting and performance management coach.

Her extensive areas of consulting expertise includes:   Strategic consulting,  interventions, business consulting, performance management, balanced scorecard initiatives, change management, project management, executive training, self awareness workshops and team building.

Her focus areas as a coach includes executive coaching, team coaching, emotional intelligence, life coaching and strategic coaching.

As the owner of R’evolution Coaching and Consulting she is one of the most effective and highly sought after consultants in the world.  Her clients include some of the largest corporations and multi-nationals.  She implements her strategies from the board room to the branch level.  From Tokyo and Johannesburg, right across Africa to the smallest branch in the remotest location.

Sophia currently lives in Fourwyas, Johannesburg.

This is Woody’s world and we are the creators!

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Chapter 22: triumph

Sit down with Engineer under the baobab tree.  African sunset. Beauty unimaginable.  My Africa.  Land of my dreams.

Future ~ hopeful!

Present ~ EXCITING!

Companions ~ magical!

Life ~ perfect!

baobab

Africa ~ land of beauty . . . .  like my princess!

PRINCESS!!!!!!  Where is my princess?

Suddenly I know something is wrong!  PANIC!  FEAR!  Not fear as in “flight or fight”.  Fear as in “fear for the worst”.  Desperation grips!  Tears!  Soul shouts: “FUCK”.

I ground myself.  Source transports over sea and land.  Clouds races past.  faster and faster.  Higher and higher till i slip between dimensions.  Into a lost world.

lost valley.  A lost tower.  Inside the tower a lost princess.  Huddled on the ground from cancerous pain.  Suffering unimaginable!  Despair beyond language.  Sitting between vomit.  (Chemo therapy is not all its cracked out to be.  between 1 and 3 in the morning when you pray for death.)

Lost_valley

My heart stops.  Sinks down to sheol.  I try and reach out to her.  Cant touch her.  As if I’m not there.

I shout.  No ~ SCREAM!  Tears!  Floods.

Her beautiful body contorts as small cells cluster together in a perfect body.  Pulls every bit of energy.  For the energy ~ they pay with pain!  Excruciating!  Intense!  Inhuman!  Unimaginable!

In desperation I look around.  I scream.  Then cry.  “Can anyone please help her!”

Source downloads but I refuse.

“FUCK Source!”  I scream.  “FUCK download!”  “HELP her!”

My own spirit starts to expire.  Loosing grip on life as I forget purpose and life and companions. Dreams flee from me.  I see pain with no end.

Wings flap in air.  Soft feet on stone pebbles.  Nightingale sings soft and low.  Of fusion of souls and hope and eternality.  I see the engineer on our ship.  Architect without answers.  My dragon being severed from my heart!  Silence.

Then she stands up.  While pain contorts face.  Body convulses.  Feet in chemo vomit!

She is alone.  I vow to die with her. any moment now.  pain is sucking the life out of every fibre of her being.

princess1

But she does not expire.  alone she smiles.  alone she strokes a human face.  alone she picks a flower from a heavenly field.  alone she turns her face into the glow of the morning sun. and she starts to shine.  like source.

I sit up.  FUCK, it IS SOURCE!  Glowing from deep inside of her.  She lifts her hands to the heaven.  I hear her call.  that heavenly voice.

and from the four corners of the great unknown they come.  manifestations of a being.

soft feet on stone ~  a spider.  Spinning and combining.  Skillful and tactical.

spider

From the shadow he appears.  her chief dragon.  protector of her solitude.  picture of her heart.  strong and decisive!

dragon1

From the high clear blue sky a seagull dives down.  Wisdom and knowledge.  Guidance and gratitude.

seagull42

I hear the screech of the eternal crow.  sitting inside the chamber on a beam.  Courageous and knowing.

crow

SETH the leopard.  Growling.  Her tail ~ impatient.  Irritated.  Dangerous.

Leopard5

Her face remains turned to the sun.  She smiles.  She calls on her counsel.  She hums an ancient Indian chant from a forgotten monastery deep in the mountains of a great land.

She focuses.  She lay down on the floor.  Chants the song of wisdom.  Her voice ~ the voice of seagull.  Eyes ~ the eyes of crow.  Heart ~ dragon and her soul ~ the indomitable SETH!

Power emanates from deep in her being!  Wisdom rises up.  Counsel appears from her soul.

She chooses to live.  Choice ~ her own!  Fight ~ her path!  Power not from outside.  Courage from within!

She takes holds of pain. Gives it its rightful place.  Not hers.

I am mesmerized by truth.  No Jesus Christ.  No Superman.  No princess.  Just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to accept her as she is . . .. and love her.  As a human who redeems herself.  Multi-dimensional.  Like every human being on earth.

All of a sudden she looks at me.  Straight in my eyes.  Walks to me.  Strokes my face.

“eben, you can’t be me”  “eben, you cant carry my burden or win my fight”.  “learn that your path is your own”.  “own your destiny.”  “Fight your daemons.”  “Grow into the person you can be”.  “never compromise”.  “Same counsel has been given to you”  “find them”  “manifest your future”.

I am speechless.

she walks to the middle of the room.  from the bed she picks up a sword.  she turns and look at me.  just for a moment.  I see the eyes of SETH.

she turns away from me.  Then plunges the dagger deep into her soft, beautiful flesh.  It tears.  It bleeds.  It shatters molecules of destruction.  it banishes pain from her being!”

her beautiful body falls to the stone floor in heavenly sleep.

I rush forward, but SETH is standing over her.  PROTECTS!

Spider on her chest – watching every move.  Seagull  speaks chants of healing.  Crow brings diamonds of hope and eternal love.  Dragon is the heart that keeps on beating.  Her beautiful, inimitable heart that hold love for all the world.

and she breaths.  soft and gentle. rhythmic.

Indian chants collects heavenly messengers and casts spells of healing and hope.

my soul freefalls.  my mind ~ blown by the greatness of the miracle that I witness.  the power is inside of us.  my god, this is what she told me every day ~ the power is inside of us. and tears roll down my face.  of gratitude for knowing her as just a girl.

triumphant.

and her soul dances over the pyrenees of a bright future!

dance 3

**  written in honour of the bravest person i know, on the eve of her greatest triumph

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chapter 23 – my counsel

we are not in a different dimension. we are in a nebula region of the galaxy. where new world are formed and fused. transported there by source and gaia – desiring to prepare and form for the creation of worlds by the harmony.

space bubbles swirl around us.

(Image: Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA/NASA))

(Image: NASA, ESA, HEIC, and The Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA))

dust, hydrogen gas, helium gas and plasma. swirling and creating. combining. experimenting. becoming. for millions of years. vast distances in light years.

princess wakes. whispers. I move closer. SETH ~ impatient.

“eben, for you to create, you must be strong. opposition on earth stand eager to destroy your plans. release more riders against you.”

She sits up, on cold floor. trickle of blood runs down her one leg. onto the floor. makes a puddle. reminds me this is no game. real!

i think, “fuck!” and focus.

“you cant fight them alone, eben. you HAVE to go and see the white wizard again.”

“and meditate and invite counsel. surround you with power and strength. protect your ship and companions every single day. amend your morning meditation.”

“and breath. . . for fucks sake. . . breath!”

everything starts to spin. spin. spin. spin. into a diffuse nebulae ~ with no well-defined boundaries.

then it happens.

golden gibbons

a gibbon swings to me. through the trees of eternal space-time. swooping from star to start. fastest monkey on earth ~ swinging from tree to tree. No ball joint in wrist. speed ~ astounding.

the golden gibbon comes to me. asks me if I choose him. “you chose me” ~ I answer. “When I was 24. Walking through the offices at Harvard Chemicals. You came to me. You enslaved me. You are not just my golden Gibbon – you are my being!”

The speed. Agility. Height in the tree tops.

The Golden Gibbon takes its place. hanging on galaxy’s.

i welcome him. i give him a place in my life.

wolf

it becomes cold. i cant stay warm. i freeze. through the snow of gases, i hear him coming. my wolf! he howls and calls the pack.

i let him lick my hand. spirits fuses. “when the riders are released, death and failure lurks – we will come”. “when you look left, we will look right”. “you look ahead, we will look back”

the pack arrives. forms a shield around me. i heat up and live.

i welcome him. i give him a place in my life.

python

creation attracts me. curious. i walk towards a sun that is forming. almost step on him.

my python.

guided me since November 2008. came to me while i was on my mountain. “too much running around, eben” he hissed. “to much wasted energy”. learn from me. become me. let me counsel you.”

“i lay and wait for my prey. I trust the natural cycles of gaia. I dont fight it. the prey comes to me. i just position myself at the right place. then i am patient.”

he hides under a planet. optimal potentiality.

i welcome him. i give him a place in my life.

stallion

then i hear it. i look up. across the vastness of space. across galaxies and space he comes. hooves beating like drums. staccato-sounds swirling across super novas! my stallion!

powerful and wise. drugged with a spirit of war. nostrils flare. power in every stride. fit. majestic.

i swing onto his back. legs burn from his sweat!

i hold on. i welcome him. i give him a place in my life.

dragon

my dragon is still by my side. i see him now. running next to me. keeping up with my stallion. dragon has been with me for months now. never left my side except when i sent him on an errant to France. he sleeps by my bedside.

came to me from princess. from the pack of dragons who runs with her.

protects. intimidates. fierce. courageous. my dragon is my heart.

as he runs I reach down from the stallion. stroke his back. welcome him. i give him a place in my life.

i feel strong. complete.

i hear my princess whisper across the great emptiness of space. she is fighting with her own healing, but still dispenses truth. “i send you a seagull and a crow, eben.” “give them space as well, you need them. and look inside. you may manifest one more than the other, but they are all you and they are all needed. without them you cant be you and you cant steer your ship.”

“they are from inside of you”

‘this is your counsel”.

I welcome crow and seagull. I integrates. I re-write my morning meditation.

I arm myself with truth and respect.

gaia

for the first time she speaks. I hear the voice of everything.

“harmony, give birth. another world. platform of integration. potential. beauty. art. poetry. music. humanity meets divinity. one that will bring balance to woodys world. independent”.

i turn my face inwards. towards the nebula. i scoop up some helium, hydrogen and plasma. start creating.

gaia have a fit! “STOP” she shouts!

I stop. Dismounts. “Eben” she says. Calmly. “some of my children learn lessons. Sometimes I have to spell it out.”

she invites me and I sit down. I breath in the breath of life. Breath!

“what is wrong with the picture, eben” ~ she asks. “the answer is inside of you”.

I clear my mind. Across the vastness of space it comes to me. in my mind I see it. Not galloping. Floating on the music of Bach. Visions of reality I am creating. like a soft breeze from the ocean. clouds floating on arctic winds.

I see gaia walking next to the world I am creating. she stops, looks ~ sits down next to it. Loves it!

“come, eben”. she invites. “sit. relax. there is great pleasure in creating. to much haste. to little appreciation of the detail”.

“sit next to me and tell me what you see”.

I sit next to her. grounded. my soul at rest. I look.

“describe it ~ how its going to happen. detail, eben” “manifest your future”. “believe it. own it. become it. then live it”.

“and you thought a business plan is a mechanical instrument”. “a business plan is art!”

“when you are alone at home at night, manifest the world you desire. Your outcomes. Describe it. Write it down so that your mind can focus. write the contract with the future. the agreement with myself about the future you desire. Then lid a candle and release its energy to be. So that my being can absorb it and I can create it”.

“at night, I want you to dream and manifest your business plans” * “live them before they happen” * “become them” * “own them”

a deep peace cloaks my soul.

“and eben . . . . , stop speaking to the intellect of people. speak to their souls. you have seen the power in this, now do it. stop working on linear logic. cause and effect. its one phenomena of many. I am not bound by cause and effect.”

“you are standing on the edge of reason. In this very book you have written these words.

you have said you are writing ‘On the edge of chaos. on the southernmost tip of africa’.

“I invite you to jump. Your faith now has a foundation in reason. But reason alone will not lead you further. At some point you have to jump. Your time has come. Own what is yours. Stop denying it on every level. The choice is yours”.

visions swirling through my mind. and tears welling up in my eyes as silence of healing across the vastness of space from my princess reach my ears. this great moment ~ I hear her voice. I see her beautiful face as she fights pain unimaginable from the dagger that pierced her beautiful body!

I releases. I fall. tough years of searching. millions of words and logical connections. Great sages of human history. My soul falls past them.

and stallion gallops through great regions of fertile potentialities; I sit on his back. firmly. before my hands move I speak. I create outcomes. Fire releases energy from my mind. gaia absorbs – as it has always been.

steel enters my arms. lift and hands scoop content; nightingale sings and seagull dives down from infinite space to create through me. through harmony!

my mind conceptualizes. my words manifest. my hands create.

and my soul sours!

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chapter 24: reality

woodys world has been created in a rusty old room on a ship by the harmony.

the old storeroom was changed into a nebula where galaxies are born, according to the visions that eben saw when he was in far-far outer space – in a space bubble.

but it is forged, not only from the visions that eben saw, but also from a tiny peace of heart-bone; a peace of his soul that broke off when eben’s dad died years ago.

some say its a fraction from his brain that came loose and was coughed up from brain damage he sustained in the accident.

still, others say its an evil spirit who broke it off when he believed in jesus.

. . . . . . who knows.

wherever it comes from, it is like the carbon basis of our universe, the basis for the woody’s universe.  The fact that every woman, child and man have within them the ability to overcome anything and be whatever they can dream of.

the picture above was taken by someone on his cell phone to show what it looked like inside the creation-room.

when harmony was done, they dispersed. eben, the princess-seagull, his dragon and the engineer remained on the ship.

the architect and the nightingale returned to the americas on a trade wind.

the woody’s galaxy was released on the great land of africa.

Upon release of a galaxy in a new land its heart does not start beating automatically. quantum strings emanates from the galaxy ~ searching human souls to connect with. When found – it creates a loop to the human soul ~ both feeding on it and feeding to it.

it becomes the primary source of energy for the new world and the galaxy’s heart starts pumping creative blood through the entire world.

the more hearts and minds connected to the galaxy, the stronger it grows till it starts changing the face of the land.

the galaxy takes on the “spirit” of the land it makes its home.

the spirit of africa is mesmerizing!  In the great land of africa ~ legends are born. woman become goddesses and save nations. ordinary men become hero’s. hope is fulfilled. dreams realized. desire satisfied.  and all from the spirit that is in every woman, man and child.

eben, his dragon and the seagull-princess go ashore.

eben releases woodys world. it hovers above the face of the land. seek hearts and souls. finds none. falls. connects with just enough to lift it back to the clear african sky.

woody became flesh and dwells among us. breaths, lives, loves ~ feels sunset glow.

eben’s counsel becomes woody’s counsel. golden gibbon, wolf, python, stallion, dragon, seagull, and crow.

eben begins to tell his own story. he transcends. . . .

harmony I

I stand on an african ant hill. sword in hand. i see everything. the new world growing stronger. reaching from central africa to the southernmost tip of this magnificent land.

Lions start to surround me. My counsel protects. dragon is on guard. I take buckets-full of life-giving air from bountiful gaia. Ground myself. Connect to the lions.

im sitting. they surround me. I get up, walk to the male and kiss him in the supreme sign of confidence and mastery.  NO fear!

as i kiss the beast, source enlightens. billions upon billions of cosmic realities channel to mind. life copies forms ~ transport blueprints ~ downloads.

mind soars. hangs suspended in mid air between earth and satellites flying overhead.

i see the entire world before me.

i look down. see. our world. i see the harmony. their souls.

harmony II

tribe from the north talking about integration with woody’s. quantum strings bind their hearts. they see the future if we can integrate more fully. not only to feed from woody’s, but to BECOME woody!

the engineer calculating the fit. non-emotionally he plans. measures. calculates. thinks.

harmony III

seagull-princess doing the impossible. climbing a rock face.

her wounds not yet healed. plunged a dagger deep in her body to cut out cancerous tumours. then drank chemo-cocktail of poison to kill last remaining cancer cells. Cocktail takes her to the edge of Hades. Almost kills her – to definitely kill cancer sells.

pain unending. unimaginable. she climbs rock face. looks to the sunset. breaths the air. sees woody’s world and directs. orders. advises. counsels. dispenses magical spells.

and the rock face and the princess becomes a beautiful picture of endurance ~ seldom seen on our plant.

her mind is strong. super connected with source who come to her and warns her about riders. dispatched against woody’s world.

i see the riders coming. from north. east. south. west. hear hooves of their war-horses thunder on dry ground.

harmony IV

in the great city of North America I see architect introducing woody’s to the world. he persuades women, men and children to open their hearts for woody.

many accepts woody and receive confidence that they need no hero.  no golden boy on a white stallion.  no superman.  all power and possibilities are inside of everyone on earth.  the gospel according to woody.

woody does not enslave. . .  his message liberates.

not a dictator who ask people to obey his laws. . . .  just one man connecting and asking people to connect and integrate as dictated by every unique situation.

harmony V

nightingale writes woodys soul into song.  then sings it in the most beautiful way. setting up examples of hope. she points to woody.  to the seagull-princess.  to herself.  she gives courage to those on the verge of giving up.  she sooths the troubled soul.  imparts sense of purpose and value into the minds of humanity.

princess-seagull dispenses magical spells and change structure.  nightingale captures hearts.

shares her own soul! creates.

woody  loves. dreams. hopes. works hard. believes the only way to reach dreams is brutal, hard work.

confident in himself. believes he can perform miracles. gets up every day with a burning desire to make each day count! works till late if he feels he has not done the impossible yet! Insist on making every day unique.

this is woody!

Continents call to me. India, North and South America. Wants Woody to come to their lands.

the tribe from the north will become woody here and take woody to central and north africa. will travel with us when we take him to the americas and india.

south america reciprocates the desire and offers her own wealth to woody.

i have been trying to integrate south african farmers into woodys – almost impossible. complexities from some, but I commit – complexities are NOT my problem. I refuse the complexities. each person is responsible for his/ her own journey. the complexities dont belong to me. the engineer can integrate it, but this MUST be done according to woody’s. NOT according to the farmer.

i draw a line.

strings from woodys reach to cape town and find thousands of hearts and minds to integrate with. but there are complexities as well.

complexities in Cape Town. complexities in Johannesburg.

structure – not fully integrated. but i breaths deeply. we will overcome EVERY challenge! woodys world WILL live and become what it was designed for.

pause

all of a sudden i feel drained. i see to much. my mind is blown. i cant think. mind spinning like a seven single.  a laser disc.

my soul sinks down. it all becomes to much. mind wants to explode. hear the words as seagull-princess speaks from the rock face. she directs me to let go.

i let go and my soul freefalls. through a beautiful african sunset. past birds and insect. tree dwellers.

a sangoma from Benoni in Johannesburg throws sand and ash in the air and collects my soul. puts me down on soft sand. reads from bones. tells me i must rest. sun does not shine in the middle of the night.

I yield to the spirits of my ancestors who lives on this great land. i embrace the counsel. i unite with my body and ignores life for a while. find a place where i can be me. and not be challenged.

for just a second i ignore the call from india, north and south america. the farmer who feels aggrieved. the complexities of integrating further with tribe from the north. the coming riders.

lay down on soft green grass. connect with gaia. listen to my soul. read my morning meditation.

and i fall asleep! deep and long. happy that I am alive! had a chance to live! deeply thankful!

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chapter 25 – i am who i am

dark ~ i can reach out and touch it. colour ~ black. sound – silence.

i breath deeply. (hahaha. . . she always tells me to breath!)

man approaches. from nowhere. his silhouette ~ darker than black. I see him. nameless, formless form called “SIGHT”.

stands in front of me. looks straight into my eyes. cant see, but i feel it burn my retinas.

from the infinite darkness i hear a single note drifting towards me. pitched. penetrates my being. then becomes a conduit for others. first, soft and rhythmic. then louder. more texture. structure. structure turns aggressive. becomes a riot!

all the time his eyes dont not leave mine.

he gazes. . . deep and deeper . . . i see ! more and more . . . into his being. . . into his soul . . .

i see people fighting a war for their world. taking a stand. expressing confidence in a system. NO. . . more – embracing something new. in lands that were once divided. brought together by source.

but change without struggle is unlikely. so, they commit. their commitment is absolute. containing the hopes and dreams of a better world.

my mind grapples with images. between the riot in my mind i hear faint sounds that i recognize. the nightingale asking for structure. reason. but my mind is not still yet. a riot! as my soul explores new world. connects with old. struggles past. wars won.

in SIGHTS soul i see images that haunts me. . . .

SOLDIER

man sitting on a cannon trailer. war boots on. pencil in hand. notebook he writes.

he looks up ~ a lark hovering in blue belgium sky. . . or is it france? sings.

to his left ~ a grave. white cross marks the place.

soft wind blows. caresses. plays with red poppies.

sorrow. great sadness.

longing to see his friend ~ now dead. killed in the bombing of yesterday.

he hears his friend say: “eeeebenowitch” – he used to call me. his great heart that could hold the whole world. he hear his voice. he remember the first day they met. every moment they spend together. every war story paul ever told.

tears.

he writes. . .

“In Flanders Fields” . . . . more tears but he presses on. . . “the poppies blow”

. . . . .

“Between the crosses row on row” . . . ,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below

now the words flow.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.”

vision replaces vision. is this real or is it a slide-share presentation?

CHILD

through the binoculars he sees her perfect body. rounds breasts. perky nipples. flat tummy. tight skin.

registers ~ every movement. she takes long to put stockings on. elegantly. ritual.

looses his breath. mesmerized. tattoos.

door opens.

body responds. drops binoculars. closes window blinds.

turns around. . . . too fast. calm down!

adult voice asks what he is looking at. summons him to the living room. some police captain wants to talk about some stuff that happened in New York. Some billboards. better come and explain yourself.

adult leaves. goes downstairs.

before he follows. . . open blinds quickly! SHIT! To late. Shes gone! SHIT, I MISSED HER!!

Bob Marley in my mind. . .

MOTHER

looks half her age.

graceful.

stylish.

breathtaking.

contract with her own heart. can not give up.and when she gives up. . . its a choice. when contracts are terminated. . . its her decision.

at night she no longer watches television. she gets home. takes a salt bath. she meditates. learned the value of spending time with herself. her own soul. the beauty of being your own best friend. complete sync. harmony.

. . . . . . . fuck – where did i hear that word before. “harmony”. vision in the soul of SIGHT dominates. captures my mind. can not release. can not, or will not? will not!

she looks at crumpled piece of paper. brigade commander from washington DC brought it to her. he happened to be on leave.

wanted to deliver news in person. she looks at paper. thinks: contract not terminated. fuck sakes, contract NOT terminated.

fights back tears. “FUCKING contract NOT terminated” her soul screams! no. not screams. sings. soft and low.

on the paper is the last stanza :: which she did not read ::

“Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.”

in that moment new contracts are formed. old contracts re-negotiated. with herself. her own universe changes shape. improves. achieves greater potentiality!

AFRICA

i ~ gasp for air. saw into the soul of SIGHT.

realize music has stopped. silence.

i m looking at an african dawn. bewildered by the vision in my mind. SIGHT is self!

WTF!!!!!!!!!!

i sit down. strength left my legs.

i am my own best friend. i am my own contract. i. . . . am? who am I?

where do I fit?

but i know. the questions no longer by a cripple boy yelling it from a cliff on the island of god! i know. mind rests. soul rests. “i know” i whisper.

and from the rest i find in self – i can create! a world with no end. a new humanity. a new matrix of thought. a new constellation! a new universe!

soul translates :: “An deiner Seite”

i sit down with self and murmurs the song in the silence of eternity.

I’m looking back
To a wonderful time
You were the anchor
And the cradle of my existence
You fought
And shared every moment with me
I am proud
To be still with you now

You came to me
Before the very first sound
When the hourglass seemed inexhaustable
You have lived
You fought with me through every storm
You never demanded anything
You just gave and bestowed

You showed me
What is really important
You conjured a smile on my face
With your silent gaze
Without any word
But full of love and life
You gave me so much of yourself

i get up. start running. faster and faster. electric impulses pulsates through every mussel.

towards the great cliff.

my gaze is forward. my stride with certainty. before me the cliff. far below me the valley of time. on the other side the new world. woodys world.

sparks under stride. bom, bom, bom, bom and step. . . .

i jump! i soar!

i laugh! in ecstasy a scream for the entire universe to hear :: I AM WHO I AM! I AM!

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chapter 26 – love

LOVE :: ACTUALITY
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landed on top of table mountain. mountain of dreams. fantasy. reality. hope. tomorrow.

remember every day i have climbed. every weekend. sunshine. gale force. fucked my knees up, but gave me perspective. prepared me. anticipation.

climbed to valley of solitude. dolomite caves. sat down. legs folded. closed eyes.

impulses rides neural connections in my mind. body. is it bach? no, its heaven. its real.

finding self. battling horseman. . . . princess-seagull negotiating in the north. arab world. strong tribal leaders. strong contracts. strong people. not easy to buy freedom.

she is not with me. it drives me NUTS!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!

around her one wrist ~ integrity.

around other ~ loyalty.

foot band ~ love.

heart – her’s

but. . . she IS with me. souls fused!

close my eyes. talk to her. speak: soul to soul.

eben:

horseman was coming. on dragons back to meet them. sword by my side. certain of death. was fucking cold. inside my soul was “rest”. the “rest” was you. complete harmony. complete love. complete union.

having vision of self. before i jumped to table mountain. as i saw visions of macree at dressing station in Flandre. during WWII. soul was at complete peace. we were one!

I embraced you when the african sun came up over the vast continent. held you tight in my arms. stroked your soft beautiful hair.

you looked at me. eyes met. world disappeared. table mountain. sun on my skin. only you. and your beautiful eyes.

saw into your soul. saw your indomitable spirit. sense of humor. softness. oh. . . you are so gentle. so soft. so perfect.

heart stopped. love became a word that means nothing. union unimaginable. and all else – spectators to our love. indescribable. holy!

i reached up. folded heaven and earth into one icon – riding on a broom – gave it to you to wear around your arm.

walked up to the gods in heaven, the souls of every deceased throughout the ages ~ eternal law givers who’s laws hold you captive in arab lands. unsheathed sword and cut the heads off every fucking spirit-being who makes laws. to secure your release.

with my one mutilated arm i created you ~ your own world. like woodys. just more beautiful. bigger. with less suffering. more music! an eternal edifice for you. something prodigious! magnificent!

stroke your perfect body.

eyes remain locked. soft breasts. smooth skin. shallow breath. souls dance over pyrenees.

cold mountain air. unnoticed. passion heats body. fuses being. body and soul unites.

** i want to get as close to her as possible. tear cloths off her so that my skin can touch her skin.

only then do i kiss her. rocks that we lay on are warm from sun.

lips ~ soft like cape town summers evenings. not lust. beautiful union. togetherness. eternal fusion.

When we make love. . . . over and over and over again.

SUDDENLY

the dragon.

larger. vicious. spewing fire. growling ~ all the earth shudders!!!!!

table mountain splits in two.

dragon roars with message:

“y o u A r e E b e n!!!!! H o w~ l o n g- s i n c e T i g e r T o o k Y o u r E y s????”

“s o u r c e s a w F O R y o u!!! D i d y o u t h i n k i t w a s h o w y o u l i f e w a s g o n n a e n d????!!!!!!!”

“I f y o u l o v e h e r, G O t o h e r a n d S E E!!!!”

iron filled legs. entire body. i stood up. grew as big as dragon.

dragon filled my heart.

i grabbed my sword laying next to me. i roared.

dragons power filled me and i flew. across africa. across vast plains. all of the dark land looked up when i passed. to arabia. my princess.

sand everywhere when i landed in desert. outside her camp. great winds. fury ~ dreadful. sword drawn ready to destroy man, beast and god!

outside the gates ~ PRINCESS!!!!

and behind me. . . her contract-holders. my enemy!

my soul roars: “The fucking assholes!!!!” My hand grips sword handle. my throat ~ ready to drink their blood!

walk to princess. prepared. determined. heart – THE DRAGON! sight – by source! “here I die or I take lives!”

I kneel in front of her for last blessing. before I kill men and gods. spirits and counsel.

hearts fused. she touches my face. eyes meet. time stands still. universes cease from colliding. just for a second.

tears in her eyes.

“thank you for your love”

“eben, to be truly liberated, this MUST be my fight, my brave night”. “its not yours”. “you can offer alternatives, but you cant fight my fights. if you do, i will be enslaved to you and my destiny is NOT slavery. My life is about being LIBERATED! I MUST soar!”.

i am bewildered.

two tears falls from her eyes. fall. fall. fall. through world without end. universes undiscovered. dimensions in time.

fall on my mutilated eyes. mutilated hand. mutilated by tiger’s fury on the island of god. falls on my mutilated hand.

molecules respond to spirit. cells form. growth. new. eyes and hand. healing.

and for the first time since i know her my own eyes, restored by one tear from her eyes, look at her beautiful face.

one hand, restored from one tear from her eyes, reach up and touch her eternal face.

one heart. in my own chest. together. the dragon and the seagull. eben and the princess.

i take my sword off and with my two hands i bend the blade.

it cuts into flesh!

blood gushing from new hand. “I will not give her that which cost me NOTHING!”

in the sands of arabia. i forge from the blade of my sword ~ a ring.

and i give it to her. in her hand.

“when you have done all you purposed in your own heart, allow me and i will put it on your finger. and we will be together forever. and dreams will be real and hopes will be fulfilled”.

she kissed me. no dream. real. my soul transcended and we became gods!

————————————————

LOVE :: PROMISE :: HOPE

The door bell rings and she rushes to open it. The moment she has been waiting for has finally arrived. One last look in the mirror to make sure she is presentable. She fusses cause she never feels pretty at all.

She opens the door and in front of her is a dream come true. Their eyes meet and the chemistry puts them in a world, completely separate from anything that exists. Their souls are talking in language so fast and so deep and so intense that a drop of it would destroy human kind.

He closes the door with his hand in hers and they enter the start of the most amazing fusion of love every experienced by any being, dead or alive.

————————————————

LOVE :: COMMENTARY

on the www he reads. integrates. digests. savors. source connects. downloads reality.

his comments travels across galaxies. of beauty ~ unimaginable.

“It was only yesterday but felt like a dream. Was it that wonderful? That natural? Had she greeted him like he was the prize? Had she opened what had been concealed so sweetly and so willingly last night? The taste of her remained. The smell of her. He breathed it in and prayed. Prayed it would always be there. On the tip of his memory. To sustain him.

It was so easy. So natural. So right. She stepped out of his dreams and into his reality yet elevated him. As if he were to her what she was to him. Maybe that is the key. Maybe that is the wonderment. Maybe that is why it worked and works still as he walks where she is not but carries her within. He thought he was getting the best part of the deal. She acted, and made him feel, as if she was. Both thought they were the luckiest one. He knew he was right. The fact that she thought otherwise stunned him. Humbled him. Elevated him.

It was only once. Once was more than he ever expected. Once was more than he deserved. Once was not enough. He reached for the phone and dialed. Urgently. Knowingly. He quivered when she answered. He got right to the point. “More. I want more of you. I want all of you…..”.

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chapter 27 – love!

she ~ fought her captors in arabia. she ran the course. kept the faith. now. . . . a pearl.

he ~ killed counsel. destroyed constellation’s. every single one of them. not to release her. she did not need help. no. a gift. to her.

what? a new world!!!!! fuck this. if it wont work in this world. with these goddam rules and contracts. he will construct a new one! a new world!!! he is god!!!

fucking order who lives by fucked up rules. through skies on back of dragon. dragon trots on dark matter. quantums forward. magnitude :: infinity!

when there is nothing left he reached into his bosom. pulled out what he felt. music of chopin! Op. 27, No. 1!

speeds past relativity of einstein. abriele veneziano’s string theory. infinitesimal calculus and graph theory of Leonhard Euler. Plato’s world of perfect shapes. theories about institutional awareness and gravity.

but chopin. . . oh god! chopin. . . it consumes him. . . . .

all of a sudden he is there. at the birth of new order. a new universe. new galaxy. constellations. everything. except chopin! Chopin is eternal!

Door bell rings. she ~ rushes to open it.

moments of eternal anticipation ~ fulfilled! Now! actualized! here.

“One last look in the mirror to make sure she is presentable. She fusses cause she never feels pretty at all.”

Door opens. Glide on hinges. Itself. Magical. In their minds.

. . . . a dream comes true.

. . . . . flowers open for the moonlight

. . . . . a butterfly spreads her wings

. . . . . world rid of aids

. . . . . hunger and poverty banished forever

in that moment. . . . . THAT beautiful.

eyes meet. chemicals. rampant. powerful. transports them to new world. separate from anything that exists. new.

soul-language ~ talk fast and deep ~~ so intense that a drop of it would destroy human kind.

He ~ closes the door. hand in hand. enters. start. most amazing fusion of love every experienced by any being, dead or alive.

mutual gaze fixed. speechless. No words required. would destroy what the souls are busy with.

takes her in his arms. lips meet. she ~ moans a soft and intense moan.

He ~ picks her up. walks to the couch.

take clothes off ~ both. completely merged. flesh against flesh. eyes ~ remains locked.

kiss. . . . .

. . . . leaves connection to soul. explore her body.

He kisses her neck and her body convulse with climax. His one hand cuping her beautiful breast. Another intense moan escape her parted lips. He goes back up and kiss her intensely.

She ~ reaches out. loves his shoulders. hands run through his hair. down his neck. over his back. She grips him tight and holds him as has another soul and physical orgasm again.

kisses neck. move down onto his chest. exploring with her lips the beauty of the man who captured her being.

moves down even more. his tummy. gentle licks and bites and then down to his inner groin. licking gentle and them more urgently. kissing feverishly.

She licks . . . .

He ~ touches her beautiful breasts once more. kisses her ~ passionately. moves down. erect nipple is mouth. gentle. kissing.

down the side. onto other one. hand is exploring her beautiful tummy and the rest of her body. She ~ another orgasm and this time her body convulses completely.

She begs him and pleads with him to take her ……..

He ~ enters

She ~ calms.

He ~ waits patiently for her to calm down….. no words spoken. touch and feel ~ soul speaking words unfathomable. words ~ accumulating from long time ago.

she ~ calm.

he ~ . . . . . slowly at first.

she ~ two more. . .

he ~ building the anticipation

she ~ screams

into their own personal heaven. Untarnished. . . . . . .

eternity passes. little movement. doze off. sleep and wake up.

repeat. beauty. eternal. fulfillment.

it is said that woodys world was created by The Harmony aboard a shit in the Caribbean. in a rusted ships room.

wonders are never created that way. . . .

it was born in the unlikely fusion between two very reactive beings. around the time when humans ruled the earth.

but today is different. today everything is new. and beautiful. . . .

————————– ————————–

on the www he reads. integrates. digests. savors. source connects. downloads reality.

his comments travels across galaxies. of beauty ~ unimaginable.

“It was only yesterday but felt like a dream. Was it that wonderful? That natural? Had she greeted him like he was the prize? Had she opened what had been concealed so sweetly and so willingly last night? The taste of her remained. The smell of her. He breathed it in and prayed. Prayed it would always be there. On the tip of his memory. To sustain him.

It was so easy. So natural. So right. She stepped out of his dreams and into his reality yet elevated him. As if he were to her what she was to him. Maybe that is the key. Maybe that is the wonderment. Maybe that is why it worked and works still as he walks where she is not but carries her within. He thought he was getting the best part of the deal. She acted, and made him feel, as if she was. Both thought they were the luckiest one. He knew he was right. The fact that she thought otherwise stunned him. Humbled him. Elevated him.

It was only once. Once was more than he ever expected. Once was more than he deserved. Once was not enough. He reached for the phone and dialed. Urgently. Knowingly. He quivered when she answered. He got right to the point. “More. I want more of you. I want all of you…..”.

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beginnings

sitting between dimensions. meditating.

last chapter of “the dragon and the seagull – genesis”.

next book – “the dragon and the seagull – exodus”.

. . . soul ~ at peace

. . . heart ~ in love

. . . mind ~ quite

looks at new world being created. woodys world.

reflects.

purpose of life

source downloads :: the myth of sisyphus

:: revolt :: freedom :: passion ::

slay gods and kings for revolt

create woodys world for freedom

and for my princess-seagull . . . creates gabriela, my passion

. . . . . . . . my soul liquidates. vaporises.

then attends a watershed concert and smiles!

it was day and it was evening. . . the fist day

————————– ————————–

this is the beginning of the story of the dragon and the seagull.

“the dragon and the seagull – genesis”  is available

on Blogspot: http://thedragonandtheseag ull.blogspot.com/

and wordpress: http://wp.me/PmCnZ-6f

Its also being reposted on my Facebook Fan page, Extreme Writing.

the story continues. . . .  ”the dragon and the seagull – exodus”

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the dragon and the seagull

exodus – gabriela

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woman10

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“but for Eve there was not found a helper suitable for her.”  Gen 2:20

“but for Adam there was not found a helper suitable for him.”  Gen 2:20

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Life-long search ~  over.

inherent in the fabric of our existence is a logical inconsistency.  a paradox.  it does not make sense.  can NEVER be justified logically in light of suffering. (why the fuck would i care?)

life, i have decided, is about revolt, freedom and passion.

The Dragon and the Seagull – Genesis” ~ quest for ‘meaning’ began.  made myself a promise.  if i cant find it i will end life!  Fuck this for a bad joke!!!

killed god, got a ship, fought Christians,  became part of the Harmony – harmony creates new worlds.   The Harmony created Woodys World and released it upon the earth.

all happened after i met a seagull

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .    .    .    and a dragon.

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The dragon, my lifelong companion ~ with me all the time ~ one of my counselors ~ also, my own heart!

and the seagull. . . . wow!!  .   .   .    a beautiful princess!!

the princess gave me sight – literally and figuratively.  she showed me  love, beauty, friendship, companionship, courage.

complete each other.  woody also need someone to complete him.  like a good bacon that needs some marinade souse.

this  is gabriela eduard. woodys spice.  his essence.  his fusion.

she ~  grew up in brazil.  her father ~ BIG cattle rancher.  gabriela is constructed by the harmony based on the pattern of my princess-seagull.

and so, in “The Dragon and the Seagull – EXODUS”, gabriela comes to life as my beautiful princess.  MUCH more beautiful than anyone can imagine.

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said that her beauty transforms everything that she comes into contact with.  this is the rest of the story of the dragon and the seagull, gabriela and eben. (or is it woody and gabriela – who knows)

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join us on the adventure!

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CHAPTER 1 –  gabriela

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gabriela

capricorn

millions of years ago, a tale was told about love that defines life.  At the mountains of the moon ~ north of Capricorn.  on the great continent of africa.

there my princess lived.  everyone called her gabby.  i called her gabriela.

she came from a far land with strange customs.  land of brazil where they speak an even stranger language called portuguese.

her father ~ a ruthless man.  sold her to a rich man from the arab world – عبد العزيز  (Abd-al-aziz – servant of the powerful).

Adb-al-aziz held her captive in his harem.  allowed her to see him over week-ends. only some.  would summons her.

i was sitting at “the well of knowledge of good and evil”.  asked for the purpose of life.

she appeared to me from the great sea and guided me to my own ship.  own people.  own destiny.  i became the creator of worlds.  part of the Harmony.  we created woodys world.

gabriela did not just want to leave her captor  عبد العزيز.  contracts had to be fulfilled.  between her and عبد العزيز.  Between her and her dad.  Between her dad and عبد العزي.

sunset africa

so, at night while the milky way would spiral songs from nothingness and sprinkle beauty over destitute and happy people ~ our souls would commune.   and source would take our words and transport it over the great open plains of africa.  and connect us.  deep and profound.  union unfathomable.

shepherds who have to face ferocious lions and buffalo would gain courage;  men and woman who have to save their villages from thirst-death would gain wisdom ~ from spirit movement between me and gabriela.

and sangomas would throw bones and imagine the spirits of their ancestors speaking to them.

gabriela and i ! souls fused ~ hearts beat synchronized as love existed that had no boundaries.  love that could create gods ~  unheard of before.

before the dawning of gabriela ~  at “the well of the knowledge of good and evil” ~ life was meaningless.

hunted game in the morning and late afternoon to fill stomachs of a hungry tribe of white people living at the mountains of the moon.  descendants of people who’s GPS coordinates one day got scrambled when the satellites fell from the sky in a solar flair.

عبد العزيز allowed her to move to the mountains of the moon for some time and half a time and double that again.  never alone.  always guarded by knights of his arab order.  ready to kill anyone who would get close to her.

besides her, life did not add up for me.  “why”.  none of the great mountains had any answer.  neither the animals.  nor the plants of africa.  or the melodious milky way.  or the satellites falling from the sky.

“why” did not compute.  was irrational.  never a reason to continue one more fucking day.

This is Africa

one morning i looked out over the vast desert of namib.  saw a cloud.  No. . .  not a cloud.  Dust!

Dust cloud approached me.  outside my city.

saw it was a man.  walked up to me.

“im looking for eben, father of Woody’s”. . .  the old man said.

“and the universe must be smiling upon you for you found him”, I said.

he spoke in the dialect of a tribe who did not rule this land for 800 years now.

“the gods tell me to tell him:  “revolt, freedom, passion.”  “and the greatest of these is passion”.

then he left.

at night, in my hut, i would talk to gabriela.  hold her.  kiss her.  make love to her.  my soul being transported to her where she is guarded by عبد العزيز.

in the morning ~  out in the fields, i would plough.  water.  plan.  till there was no power left in me.  passion.

she “completes”.  she did not have to DO anything for me!  Just had to BE.  Her being became my reference point.  Southern cross.  my soul sensed her.  communes with her every night.

because she is, i knew, for the first time ever, that I am as well.  im not a ghost.  or computer program.  neither is she.  therefore I am.  she is.

passion became purpose.

عبد العزيز is another issue all together.

then she got an offer from a big TV station in the Americas to go and talk about african food.  and sustainability.  and courage.  and quantum physics.

tomatos

she insisted on quality that I did not understand.  rear herbs and spices.  must be “real”.

I asked her about tomatoes.  She smiled.  Only organic, over-ripe tomatoes from israel.

intrigued.

so i walked down to the place of the lion.  and the hyena. and the buffalo.  leopard.  where grass is flat and one can see the entire valley below.

sat down.

cleared mind.

meditated.

and started singing  the song of africa.

and somewhere in north america gabriela cut a overripe israeli tomato on a television program watched by millions.

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chapter 2: africas new song

tristan laughed when i sang him the song the first time. the song of africa. was not what he expected.

was laying on a hill overlooking a great savannah grassland. july. . . middle of the winder. warm sun. cold breeze. and it came to me. . . through eons of time. millennia of struggle.

song was not about elephant and giraffe ~ panting after water in cold winter dryness.

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not about a mother in benin ~ struggling out existence for kid and kind on endless waterways of polluted humanity.

.

not the never-ending deadly romance of sands where servant-of-the-powerful – عبد العزيز (Abd-al-aziz) lives and breaths and have his being. in the north of this dark land.

.

not about struggle and injustice. fertile ground for money-giving middle class americans or new millionaires. not the ground that drinks blood with no end. not a million mig bombs slamming into thousand’s of family houses. not innocent woman and children ~ hopes, dreams, love hacked to pieces with mashettis.

.

.

not about Livingston or rhodes. old africa where you could still get out off. african lions lazing around waiting for far pray and a sight of Karen Blixen.

.

my 12 year old boy expected all this. passion to drive you mad. love. hate. lust. war. and beauty ~ unending.

but it was none of these. came to me on that hill. that the song is more. song of africa ~ an ordinary man who will be king.

gets up when the southern cross is high ~ bars in Johannesburg still play the blues. works through Cape storms and vicious heat in namib.

reaches down into soul and rips out filth and dirt. cancer that ate away at potentiality ~ 10 years. at night ~ dances with medicine woman ~ drinks secret potion to vomit up distractions ~ vanish them from his being.

before morning star sleeps ~ runs with hily gabriel salassi for 10 000 km ~ hands out candy to kids who think that jesus will save them from the next african war.

for stamina ~ listens to anny lennox, reads poetry of conny stadler, Frank Axworthy, Pretty Words, Will Crawford, E A Somoza Jr, Rich Follett and Mike Carson.

.

carving out existence with bear hands from hard rock at the mountains of the moon. in vicious uganda where

he

looks

at 12

towards

the marketplace

of faces. so that he. can see the face.

of his gabriela

and his heart can sing the song of africa. that is in his heart. and bones.

and that he can remember to tune in again at 8:00 tonight to that cooking program where she will be talking about food and personal transformation and a bit about quantum physics.

. . . . . . i am haunted by relativity and by schrödinger’s cat.

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chapter 3: schrödinger’s cat

lauren wants to know why schrödinger’s cat haunts me.

they visited at the mountains of the moon. see me carve out the future with my bear hands from steel-rocks in humid mountains. in africa.

tristan knew about Schrödinger, Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen. about thought experiments and about 1935.

heard the story from me many times before. the cat that might be alive or dead, depending on an earlier random event. put it in a box where random event will happen. is cat alive or dead? depends on when you open and look inside. quantum superpositions.

cold water drips from tree on my hair. runs over my face. dont notice it. see gabriela. at the market place. for just a second. see her glorious face. heart explodes.

leaned back against tree.

dont notice ~ kids stare at me. then at her. “dad!”, lauren says. i snap out of it. they laugh.

later that evening ~ tristan asks. “is she alive or dead dad?” “is love real or not?”

I ~ sat down at fire.

soul turns to mist. slowly creeps along the forest floor. into dark night. hugged trees and plants. animals and bugs.

found a crack in past dimension. sneaks in. page through the dragon and the seagull – genesis. caress each page. romances each letter. every though.

adventure. excitement. courage. despair. freedom. victory. and love.

soul returns from past. makes a home deep in my bosom.

I ~ smile. Lauren ~ runs to me and sits on my lap. tristan ~ turns the meat.

quantum entanglements.

“never mind what can and cant be”, i tell tristan.

“mind what you treasure in your heart.”

when i go to bed, she is with me. in the morning she wakes me with a kiss. when i doubt she encourages. when i fail she is still. she is companion.

through humid mosquito filled nights our souls spoke skill and commitment into being. inspired by what was and what was not and could have been, we wrote priorities in the stars. of love, companionship, “each other”, “self”, to be human, personal growth, to seek the magical, for adventure, to faithfulness, to protect. help.

and if this is or not is depends on what one sees when you look inside the box.

tristan looks confused. the meat is soft. the drink enslaving.

i ask him: How do you want to live? we are here, on this goddam planet. it is what it is. why not live with distinction. embrace every moment. become all you can be. focus. discipline. creativity. freedom. adventure. and of course. . . love.

lauren tells me that she does not understand. she sits on my lap. i hold her.

i look up ~ a start is born.

Tris and La @ Sea Point

and along with the star ~ my soul reaches south to where my kids would play.

then it sits next to her. big city life. talk. share. love. life. thoughts. about over-ripe Israeli tomatoes and personal transformation.

lauren interrupts my thoughts. soul rush’s back to the mountains of the moon.

from the cabin.

“come dad!”

“Gabriela!”

“Shes on TV!”

“Cooking.”

. . . . . . and saying something about Schrödinger’s cat.

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chapter 4: pause

was alone with my thoughts. bitterly cold at night at high altitude. carving out new world order. bare hands.

sweat ran down face. cold fingers. hard earth. work though night.

the next morning i missed my kids and cape town ~ got on a BA Flight and headed south.

watched sine cloud formations pass underneath us. excruciatingly tired. so tired ~ cant sleep.

thought about world we are dreaming into existence. started in hull of a ship ~ woodys world. created by the harmony.

fellowship of harmony ~ tested over the past week.

different minds unite around common purpose. different natural talents ~ common goal. is it THAT common? I hope not. It must have flavour and spice!

“why i am doing this?” “why dont I sit in a nice warm house?” “why endure this much ~ cold, hard, backbreaking work?” “why did i choose this life?”

think of what i told Tristan last week. “live life with distinction ~ why not?” “do it differently from anyone before you”. FUCK EVERY SINGLE comparison with someone else! FUCK HARVARD BUSINESS SCHOOL! FUCK YALE! FUCK BRANSON! FUCK OPPENHEIMER! BE UNIQUE! THINK AND DO!

gabriela appears to me. at the moment of that thought. and she smiles. i smile. “yes, i say to myself”. “also for her ~ also f o r h e r!”

mind transports across great lands. across vast oceans. to india. land of knowledge and light.

to Shah Jahan’s monument of love to his life ~ Mumtaz Mahal. Taj Mahal.

year after her death he started. from 1632. for 21 years he build. till love was expressed in 1653

eben, oscar, erhardt, dawie, sophia, connie, shah jahan, jesus christ, mumtaz mahal, nelson mandela and prince charles – building the Taj of africa. of the modern age.

woodys ~ Taj for determination, creativity and community.

gabriela ~ Taj to love, beauty, values, knowledge and perfection.

and all they one day have to say is that he truly loved her.

he wants to think about a hundred days of goals and plans.

about the magnificent mind that learns and forms units of thought and reason.

wanted to explain to the harmony that the mind aggregates.

that 365 is not read as 3 and 6 and 5, but was 365. but as a complete thought quanta.
thefactthatidonotusespaces donotbothermymindsinceitse esthewordsaspocketsofquant aandnotasarangeofrandomlet tersstrungtogether

nd if i dnt us crtn lttr grps, my mnd s abl to wrk t wt i m syng.

thus is the power of the mind.

that the mind of the collective must be forged around woody and gabriela. become.

harmony’s minds must connect. fuse. woody and gabriela must come to life.

woody is genesis.

gabriela ~ exodus.

wanted to tell the story of how minds of harmony forms connections over time and space.

from mountains of the moon to los angeles, arizona, minneapolis, johannesburh, cape town, into the deep rural area of central south africa ~ to potchefstroom, bombay, cochin.

wanted to tell harmony about uganda. land of change. courage. new life. change that is predicated upon new contracts.

how, in cold hard ugandan rock i discover foundation of human existence.

not fossil records – contracts!

how contracts are “energy states” of society. it determines who will connect. who ~ opposite poled will attract. who ~ same poled will repel.

how living systems form new contracts of higher order and greater complexity.

wanted to tell them its contracts that bind. form pockets of existence. entities ~ larger than the individual. families. groups. cities. society’s.

how all of life is by contract. forged from reality.

but i can not think of any of these. on a british airways flight from uganda to south africa.

my mind aggregates. skips over detail. no longer sees the dots. only a straight line. no longer hears the notes. only the melody. no longer reads the letters ~ only the poetry.

and the poem my soul reads is gabby. that most beautiful of all beings!

I smile and fall into a deep sleep.

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chapter 5: rest

sea storm 2 - misty beach

“it is said that . . . “ so many people say so many things.

i sit down on the rocks.  my favourite place in all the world. misty beach.  cape town.

there are no contracts.  no purpose for life.  no complexity.  no counsel.  no dragons.  no appointments.  no expectations.

nothing.

just the wind,

and the sand

- the misty sea.

and the eternal mountains

my mind rests.  may i never wake from my dream.

scarborough

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chapter 6: the end

beauty4

rather to live and love for a short while than not to have loved at all.  this is true.

remember myself sitting at the harbour.  meeting the seagull and my dragon for the very first time.

adventure of a lifetime began.

on the rocks at misty beach.  cape town.  here it all began.

quite.  mind clear.  choice – mine.  life must go on and life must end.

beauty3

soul transports over vastness of bountiful earth.  see beauty of life pulsating through every fibre of the fabric of the universe.

clear mind.  caress soft steel in my hand.  play with it.  choices.  choices.  choices.

this is how i want to remember life.  not as someone with Alzheimer’s who wets myself and don’t even knows it.  whose kids wipe the drool off his mouth.

no.  never.

beauty

feel body slumping forward.  mind focused on bountiful earth my soul is flying across.

spray of water in my face.  waves lap at my feet.

water around me turns red.

dagger handle sticking out of my chest.  feel the warm blood dripping down my body.  smell.  gasp for air as the heart tries to pump faster.  tries to get blood pressure up.

the stab was excruciatingly painful. but just for a moment.  one second.

now. . .  no more pain.

fall into a deep tunnel.

tries to steady myself.  put hand out where i thought there was a rock.  misjudged.  no rock.  body hits water.  wave over my head.  cant get up to breath.  blood everywhere.

“it is true”, i think “that the dying brain is at rest and that there is no fear in ones last moments”

feel my body being dragged deeper into the sea.  sight ~ hazed.  and in the brilliant sun  i vaguely make out the shape of a glorious seagull.

then . . .  nothing.

beauty2

the end

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

13 April 1969 – 2 June 2010

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the dragon and the seagull (the complete collection)

The Dragon and the Seagull

A True Story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PREFACE

When I look in the mirror I see myself. I am real. I see ghosts around me. None of them are real. My entire life has been a search for meaning. Purpose.

40 years culminated last week when I decided that I would either find meaning or die!

A sea gull and an old dragon lead me through the jungle, to the water of meaning. I know why we are here. I know what is the purpose of our lives!

I dedicate this story to the seagull and the dragon.

You gave me meaning!

eben van tonder

cape town
south africa
January 2010

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GENESIS

CHAPTER 01 – awakenings

CHAPTER 02 – rebirth

CHAPTER 03 – it is done

CHAPTER 04 – the god who is dead

CHAPTER 05 – reflection

CHAPTER 06 – the ghosts

CHAPTER 07 – the christians

CHAPTER 08 – purpose

CHAPTER 09 – real purpose

CHAPTER 10 – my ship

CHAPTER 11 – the engineer

CHAPTER 12 – vision of the past

CHAPTER 13 – jesus christ

CHAPTER 14 – truth

CHAPTER 15 – the tale of wisdom

CHAPTER 16 – dragon’s island

CHAPTER 17 – i am disabled

CHAPTER 18 – pink bubbles

CHAPTER 19 – deliverance

CHAPTER 20 – the riders

CHAPTER 21 – the tribe from the north

CHAPTER 22 – triumph

CHAPTER 23 – my counsel

CHAPTER 24 – reality

CHAPTER 25 – i am who i am

CHAPTER 26 – love

CHAPTER 27 – love

CHAPTER 28 -  beginnings

EXODUS

CHAPTER 29 – gabriela

CHAPTER 30 -  africas new song

CHAPTER 31 -schrödinger’s cat

CHAPTER 32 – pause

CHAPTER 33 – rest

CHAPTER 34 – the end

.

.

 

The dragon and the seagull by eben van tonder

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da child in him

nature1

few years ago i came across this poem . . .  sent by a girl on her cell for her boyfriend. 

sms’ed it to him.  – forgot to get her name, but kept the poem.

its what i would text my eternal beloved . . . if she would allow me . . .

 

da child in him

I love da child in him

so innocent so swt.

the mischief n his

da blush upon his cheek.

da tenda way he spoke

da showd dat he cared.

da touch of his warm hand

dat gently touched my hair

da smiles dat we shared

dat filld my lyfe with glee

4 when I was with him

I found da child in me

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true love

nature

beloved helen.  remarkable soul.  poverty.  married banking executive. lost everything.  franklin killed himself in 1932.  deep emotion in writing.  faith.

me:  “helen, please tell me about true love?”

helen:

True love is a sacred flame
That burns eternally,
And none can dim its special glow
Or change its destiny.
True love speaks in tender tones
And hears with gentle ear,
True love gives with open heart
And true love conquers fear.
True love makes no harsh demands
It neither rules nor binds,
And true love holds with gentle hands
The hearts that it entwines.

~~  Helen Steiner Rice

me:  i know. . . .

nature2

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the prince

seagull_sunset

a man returned from war
with a smile upon his face
bruised, battered – wounded, bleeding
when will this end?

battlefield of life ~ frightening sights of pain
dead bodies ~ noble friends ~ some killed ~ some fell from grace

as he leaves the ship he sails
his face turns to the sun
life, death, failure or success
– to him . . . .  he loves it all!

lessons ~ lands ~ adventures ~ hope
his sword raised heavenwards
his spirit knows it is his lot,
as he prays for more!

stride: certain
gaze:  fixed
yet something caught his eye

his soldiers body now bends down
he plucks! he smells! he loves!

a single flower
from the land that mourns the stench of war
(and in that moment source speaks to spirit)

“war ~ conquest . . . in your blood ~ there’s more!
a vision of perfection ~ someone you adore”

he sees her form
he loves her so

his heart beats ever strong
and upon his face
he can not help
a smile

eben van tonder

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they shall not grow old

Fighting a war.  The adventure of my life!  Setting up the most exciting company on earth – Woodys Brands.

Its a war. against self.  odds.  competitors.  the market. distributors.

Forces are marshaling against our dreams.

In Bloemfontein for the week-end.  Building infrastructure.  Setting up Woody’s Promoters.

Sunday, noon.  I head out to Kroonstad, 2 hours drive north.

Last stop for the day.

Sand storms cover the Free State.  Its going to blow the car right off the road.

Beautiful and exciting.  See the program in my mind.  Coming together beautifully!  We will win! . . . ?

wow!

 

I am late.  When I get to Kroonstad, the store is closed.

I sit outside on the sidewalk.   Walking the candidate through the products and procedures on my computer.

On the way out of the small town I drive past the war memorial.

Drive past.  Stop.  Turn around.  Why rush past?

Get out.

Local boys.

Died in WWI, WWII and more recent conflicts.  I wonder about their loved ones.

Parents who grieved

all their lives.

Died with the grief

for a lost son

in their heart.

Wives.  Children.

 

 

Life has never been easy.  But its always been an adventure.

for the boys of  1935 to 1945

Maj A. Fairweather

Capt CT Gould

Lt L Badenhorst

Lt AJ Gould

Lt G Mervis

rows and rows of  names.

Real people.  Real brothers.  Real children.  Real fathers.  Real people.  like me.  like us.

People, edged into a forgotten wall in a remote South African town.   Who paid with their lives for an ideal.  Delivered to us and our children.

Walk back to my car.

Two snot-nose kids wait for me.  Do I have some money for them?  Two brothers.  Living in the flats opposite across the street from the memorial.

I give them each R10.  They run to go and show mom and dad.

“We still fight a war,” I think.  These kids need a future.  Education.  Jobs.  Hope.  Like my kids.

Woody’s needs promoters.  To fight off a major offensive from competitors.

 

What will my kids say one day.  Did I leave them a better life?  A better world?  Greater stability?

 

:I remember the poem on the memorial wall:  :and i remember hero’s:  :and sacrifice:

Ode of Remembrance”  from Laurence Binyon‘s poem “For the Fallen“, which was first published in The Times in September 1914.

They shall not grow old

as we who are left

grow old:   Age shall not

weary them nor the

years condemn.  At the

coming down of the sun

and in the morning

“we will remember them”

in my life,

right now, its morning.

and as we promised

. . .  i remember.

 

and i listen to katie melua


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01. engineering in ether

Anu


dancing in ether

 

in ether there are patterns.  sine waves.  whirlpools of turbulence.  storms of neural activity.  billions upon billions of systems within systems.  evolving.  forming new systems.

continued ripples of change re-shape everything.  become forces of unimaginable complexity.  shape and change.  eternal becoming.

evolution.

i see my hand.  realize that my skin is only the extremity of one system in another system.

the displacement of my hand in the ether – becomes part of the “force matrix”.

ether fills my soul.  change the working of the complex molecules that is “me”.

“i”

become aware that even my “becoming aware” is a system within a sytem within a system that again evolves and changes.

stroke my hand over grassland of synapse endings.  fires impulses.

smile.  i am god.

billions upon billions of neural-transmitters - systems within systems – god – create images in my consciousness.

i wonder why i am.

why the images that floats through my consciousness change so rapidly and conclusively.

i stop.  i see an image that i loath.  tear.  i want to remove it.  but i cant.

i will change.  but will is only the gathering and removing and changing of systems that make me me so the forces inside of me will change.  what emerges is a new set of forces.  revealing a new me.

so i flee all of reality as i know it.  systematically replace systems.  change the force structure in my soul.

then. . . all shuts down.  one by one.  till complete darkness.

Atomic Spiral

i see something – have i seen it before?   i am drawn to it.  captures my imagination.

float to it.  a substance that i will later call “ether”.  that encompasses all living.  fills all voids.  we float in.

i reach out and touch it.  it illuminates my stretched out hand.  touch it.  later i will call it light.

feel forces inside my soul.  see.  perceive “self”.

later i will learn that the perceiving of “self” is different.

forces changed.

i look at my fingers.  my hands.

i breath the ether.  i close my eyes and i see.  inside myself.   the image of perfection.  and my heart reaches out . . . .

The Songs

in the image two children play.  on heaps of gold and steel and coal.  they get boared.  turn their faces to the open velt of high plateaus and run.  jumping over gold reefs.  skipping through fields of platinum maize.  loosing sight of the other, then to return to the same road – even if for brief moments.

as they run, they sing songs.  sometimes the same, sometimes their own.  sometimes sad songs and sometimes songs that cause the everything to stop and listen.  to the song of  life.

i am haunted by songs.

 

 

 

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02. engineering in complexity

new systems create new force signatures around them.  overall system change.  every time new systems are introduced, the universal martix of everything changes.

butterfly effect.

displacement.

feedback loops carry data back to me.  temperature in auxiliary systems.  turbulence levels.  where cell wands are about to rapture.where systems integrate well.

some data – not immediately recognized by my internal processing system.  yet, i respond.  not consciously.  as in a haze.  at  the end of the week – only now do i recognize what happened the past 5 days.

complexity is exciting.  hard.  exciting . . .

deeply personal.

fucken microbes haunt me.  across the atlantic comes solutions created by Indian gods over million of years.  sweet relief.  fighters who can annihilate microbes.  i send out and s.o.s.

whirlpools of potentiality threaten to become destructive.  loops of data feed back.  the human soul can change a whirlpool on the edge of annihilation. to combine and become a force.  unstoppable.   that creates.

the hands of god!

i WANT to be in the ether.  the matrix of all that exist.

i become still.  focussed.  look at each system at a time.  engineer further.  better structure.

i lean back in the water.

different systems.  fused together around one central idea.  i, you, us, citizen, member, father, mother, ex-husband, ex-wife, new friend, lovers, woody.

i climb a mountain with my son.  and i fuse two systems.  create an “us”

not one system exist without the other.  each one feeding into and from the other.  no supreme priority.  all in balance.  evolving. feeding from.  building.  shaping.  creating.  becoming.

i engineer in liquid.  and complexity.

the most thrilling project imaginable!

 

life!

 

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03. engineering in ignorance

i was born in ether.   mirror neurons – helps me to develop language.  i learn.  mimics.  but i am scared.  can not remember why.

“i must be sure”

could not spell or remember names. english came excruciatingly hard. “is”, “are”, “peace”, “piece”, “meet”, “meat” – can not remember which it is.

could not remember mapping of matrix by others. the only way i could remember was to map the ether myself.

reality for me was a dream.  mapping and re-mapping in my mind.

discovery – like a dream. challenges that could be solved in my mind as my hands touched the real world. where i did not have to remember the rules that someone else worked out.   i learned in the laboratory of reality.  discovering currents and whirlpools in ether.  matrix of life.  maped this in my own mind.

religion was magic. an entire world that exist entirely in the mind.

in primary school my parents and teachers did not think i would finish school. when i wrote matric i did not think i would finish highs chool. i knew how difficult it all came to me.

i started to swim, always sure that i had to be sure. nothing could go wrong. but i always discovered another level below me that could go wrong.

i kept digging. exploring. what is the most fundamental level of existence of the thought or concept i was working with.

i was paranoid. always sure that EVERYTHING that can go wrong, will go wrong. and it did!

it all went wrong. making me more paranoid than ever. making me get mad!

“I DONT KNOW ENOUGH”! “I AM NOT MAPPING FAST ENOUGH!”

now i am still engineering in ether. in the matrix of all that exist. still i battle to remember something i have not figured out myself. but a day comes when one has worked enough out to go ahead with confidence.

then one can abandon the stories that i told for so long in my mind. create reality.

the choices i have made. the person i have become. i regret none of it!

.

.

i swim in ether.

one day i discovered fields of neural connectors.

and i was in heaven.

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04. engineering in beauty

engineering in ether. matrix of all of life.  billions upon billions of systems.  forming super system – all of reality.

i dance through neural connections.  joining and causing to be joined.  chemical messages.  electric.  synapses.  billion upon billion.  ordering.  always ordering.

..

redesign.

calculate the fraction of integers to one more decimal place.  i define pie.  i improve on what exists. creativity, i learn, is the improved application of what is.

Beethoven in Vienna, 1909.

Einstein in his moment of insight.

predicated upon the past.  coated in the language of the matrix we live in.  enslaved to our description of reality.  spaces that exist in our mental world.  glorious spaces where we can express and be heard.

.

.

oh my god, it is beautiful.

the child growing up to become a man.  the man swimming in the ether of life.  creating and defining.  connecting synapses.  electric burst of what did not exist yesterday.  new super chemistry. a complete life.

love that endures.  adventures begging to be lived.  storms, pleading to be challenged.  music, forcing itself through heard earth.  supreme example of engineering in ether.  having the liberty to pursue what is excellent. confident that past choices has been good.

..

a child wonders if there is a god.

a man discovers – god is the laughter and free spirit of his daughter.

the strength and focus of his son.

waterfalls running down from Table Mountain in the winter.

thunderstorm in Johannesburg in the summer.  the humidity of durban.  the echoes of freedom fighters in the Free State.  the new found courage of his partner of 15 years. the bond and freedom of new found spirituality.  delivered by a glorious seagull.  poetry of a friend.  friendship of a lifetime.  even if its now dead.

and when constellations of past lives and current emotion and unresolved love that must be re-defined smash into each other . . . out of this i dance with my beloved.

and glen gold. . . . OMG!  glen gould!

.

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05. engineering in truth

walking down a ramp at cape cod.  is it a ramp?

gentle echoes of reality slushes against the shoreline of my heart.

i stop.

look.

listen.

what?

.

.

the rhythmic sadness of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto.  The flutes- like a sad baseline.  rolls through my soul.   glenn gould gently plays with the piano.

is this what the deepest caverns of my soul looks like.  ?  .  i stretch out my hand.  fingers gently stroke moist walls.

.

.

the moment is supposed to be filled with regrets.  choices i made.  brought me to this point.

so many roads.  so many desiccations.  and hydration.  so many emotion.  so much living.  such a rugged cavern wall.

i sit down.  just myself.  i.

reflect.

.

.

when i came across a cavern, i investigated.

every impulse – i have followed.

every mountain peak i saw, i scaled.

the deepest and most profound emotion – i embraced.

sadness – what words can not utter.

satisfaction – indescribably.

every problem i have reverse engineered.

plunged into the ether of life and build what i saw in my mind.

cried till there was no more tears left.

laughed till i wanted to pass out.

interlude:  an angel from heaven descended.  shines a light on my heart.

i did not flinch.

recognized.  integrated.  know caverns.  know myself.  know the difference.

i close my eyes.

see a vision of perfection.  its there.  still.

.

.

stand perplexed by the internally consistent nature of “truth”
what was “truth” to me is still “truth”
will always be

like,

. . . . . a couple dancing around white and black notes

seth

.

.

i take hold of a steel dagger. pull a cold blade from my lifeless body.

waves.

kelp.                        life.

turn.

start swimming to the shore.

its far.

i swim.

and i breath in life. large chunks of it.

and i smile.

.

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06. engineering with a chemical brain

Douglas H. Wheelock: "Aurora Borealis in the distance on this beautiful night over Europe. The Strait of Dover is pretty clear as is Paris, the City of Lights. A little fog over the western part of England and London. It is incredible to see the lights of the cities and small towns against the backdrop of deep space. I am going to miss this view of our wonderful world… (11-8-2010)"

 

i swim back to land. dont feel would where i pulled cold steel dagger from my lifeless heart.

swim with determination in rough sea.  body in the water.  mind floats over ether.

look down on Paris and England.

i breath.

Douglas H. Wheelock: "Fly me to the Moon…let me dance among the Stars…” I hope we never lose our sense of wonder. A passion for exploration and discovery is a noble legacy to leave to our children. I hope we set our sails and venture out one day. That will be one glorious day… (8-22-2010)

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i’ve determined to solve all riddles.  challenged god to a duel and cut his heart out.  fought many great battles.  faced my daemons.

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.Red Army during WWII

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comrades have been an engineer.

a beautiful, courageous woman.  who owns half the genes of the most precious kids on earth.

for a short while there was a poet.

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powerful “search chemicals” drove me to the point of madness.  building elaborate models in my mind.  searching and seeking.

calculated the sine nature of all of life.  ebbs and flows.  natural rhythmic evolution of everything.

struggled to escape the gravitational pull of my youth.  consequences of who i am.

from out of the great unknown i heard a voice.  gave me back my spirituality.  an ordering principle swooped down.  infused my memories with elasticity.

I’m lying alone with my head on the phone
Thinking of you till it hurts
I know you hurt too but what else can we do
Tormented and torn apart
I wish I could carry your smile and my heart
For times when my life feels so low
It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring
When today doesn’t really know, doesn’t really know

with my bear hands i carved a life.  every stone.  every space.

interdependence became my religion.  the system – my god.

the system demanded the same from my best friend as from me.  my friend committed suicide.

the system demands obedience.  and he does not yield to anyone.

powerful chemicals flooded my heart and made me alive.

For all those times you stood by me
For all the truth that you made me see
For all the joy you brought to my life
For all the wrong that you made right 

For every dream you made come true
For all the love I found in you
I’ll be forever thankful, baby

You’re the one who held me up
Never let me fall
You’re the one who saw me through
Through it all

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn’t speak
You were my eyes when I couldn’t see
You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach
You gave me faith ’cause you believed
I’m everything I am
Because you loved me, ooh, baby

You gave me wings and made me fly
You touched my hand I could touch the sky
I lost my faith, you gave it back to me
You said no star was out of reach

You stood by me and I stood tall
I had your love, I had it all
I’m grateful for each day you gave me

Maybe, I don’t know that much
But I know this much is true
I was blessed because
I was loved by you

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach
You gave me faith ’cause you believed
I’m everything I am
Because you loved me

You were always there for me, the tender wind that carried me
The light in the dark shining your love into my life
You’ve been my inspiration through the lies you were the truth
My world is a better place because of you

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach
You gave me faith ’cause you believed
I’m everything I am
Because you loved me

I’m everything I am
Because you loved me

I started to live.  for the first time in 10 years!

I look around me. Dazed and amazed at the brilliance of reality.  Next to me stands Anton.  A general to learn from.   Oscar is not only in the system.  he grabs the flag, scales an even higher point.  higher than I ever thought possible.  In his hand – the flag that is the system.

Red Army WWII

dreams does not stop.  it enters reality.  flesh and blood.

I swim towards the shore.  Where children must grow up.  Dreams must be fully realized.  Love must be fulfilled.  Mountains must be explored.  Friendships must be strengthened and celebrated.

For the first time ever in my life I feel as if I am growing up!

Douglas H. Wheelock: "It is the season for viewing Polar Mesospheric Clouds, and with our high beta-angle we were able to capture this thin layer of noctilucent clouds at sunset (6-25-2010)."

My choices are not easy.  they are clear, but not easy.

i am glad I am engineering!

Douglas H. Wheelock: "Traveling at 17,500 miles per hour (5 miles per second)…we orbit the Earth every 90 minutes, with a sunrise or sunset every 45 minutes. So half of our space walk is in complete darkness. The helmet lights are essential at the work sight. Here I am getting the bail drive lever ready for my arch nemesis…the ‘M3 Ammonia Connector’. The dance begins (8-14-2010)."

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evening meditation

today i have done the impossible.  moved mountains.  fought grand and glorious battles.

good evening wise universe. mother of all. matrix of all our lives.    I give thanks for an opportunity to rest my mind and stop my raging thoughts.

Please connect my consciousness with your beautiful living systems.  Allow energy to flow into my weary mind and rejuvenate it.

help me to breath deep the breath of life.

my mind is still. i meditate alone in the forest.  answers come from within.

i will write the names of the burning coals that cause my thoughts to race on paper.  I will present it to be burned or driven away by the wind.  I call on Michael and my counsel for protection, guidance and power to banish the evil and dispatch what is good for good.  to change what should be changes and to rule what must be ruled.

I embrace the night that has mercifully been given to me for recovery and rest.

Posted in mythology | 1 Comment

07. engineering in maturity

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swimming back to the island of dreams,
in the age of innocence.
to the mountain of the great ones.
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a bubble extracts me from deep blue oceans.
i float.  the bubble is pink. 

lean back against soft pinkness.

weave my fingers into each other behind my head.
powerful chemicals and neural connections wills itself to generalise about a life lived with passion.
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im getting engaged on a sacred hills.
promise eternal love before false gods.
joy as we both embrace life and independence. 

tender images of births.  my reason for being.

pride and indescribable love.
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dark images of fears battles with tribes from the north.
war-hungry snorts of my dragon as i hack them to pieces.
cold blade of the finest steel from the mountains on Jupiter.
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and i will into existence my future.
the culmination of dreams.
.
a man, sitting on pallets in a harbor in africa
hallenged by a dragon and a seagull
.
an expidition
where i find the leader of our army
in the valley of the hunter
. . .  a trader who can rule a world
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my journey from a temple in marocco,
transported to Krak Des Chevaliers
in Syria learn the sacred truth of love from Mephistopheles and Noel Chavasse 

the wise ones performed their magic

the alchemists conjured their spells

 

two beautiful children will grow up

a ship will get to its destination
.
purpose
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and a woman to love?   . . . .     i do!  (does she know it?)
 

from the far reaches of the universe

gusts of dark energy
non-parallel universes collide
ripples fold space-time
a beautiful woman - she knows magic
.

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she is flying around my pink bubble
her perfect body
the wisdom of ten thousand lifetimes
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she plays around the bubble
she laughs and smiles
strong and certain
.
gently pushes the bubble towards the island of hope
where on brilliant sea sand
on the shores of lake magnifficence
tristan and lauren build intricate sand simulations that mimics the formation of the singularity
.
in that moment i fall through the bubble
.
free fall
.
into certainty
.
(the choices I made must make sense to me;
in my own world;
the love i have i have.  i know my own heart;
friends who turn their back on me – its their own business;
they dont face what i face and they must do what is good for them;
the challenges i have – i have.  only i can overcome them.
and i will!)
.
i sit down and with tristan and lauren
- i start to play with sand.
.
and i focus.
.
.

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08. engineering with passion

breathtaking 2

get back to my island of hope.  in the age of innocence.  after i got my life back.  pulled a dagger from my dead body.

staring out over beautiful world.   where miracles exist.  and wonder enthrals.  where water engineers in solid rock.

suddenly.

my mind shifts.  opens.  i meet my father – and kill him.  i meet the Buddha – and kill him.  i become myself.

pink bubbles float towards me.  i put my hands out.  every bubble that i touch changes mental chemistry in the ether of mind.

i look in.  vision:  20:20.

if no-one else sees what i see, that’s fine.

i am.

and Buddha is dead.  along with jesus christ and allah.

breathtaking 1

i look over the water grave that gave me back to the living.  i was and now is and will be.  forever.

moon lights up and i see souls of the dead.

they direct me to the living.  to my beloved.

in my mind i embrace her.

breathtaking 3

does she see what i see?

engineering swims through my mind.

form and function.  mission and vision.  values.  mechanic’s.  structure.  objectives.  input.  output.  mind-space.  communication.  management.  people.  passion.  farmers.  processing. legislation.  channels.

. . . . . .   life or death.

i focus.

i must sink into a pit.  i do.

breathtaking 4

i must meditate on a beautiful red rose – i do.  clear my mind.  turn my face to the sun.  drink up the energy from all of the bountiful earth.

breathtaking 5

soft rose fragrance fills my senses.

i see a beautiful island.  i surf to clear my mind.

play paint ball with tristan.

write blogs about ghosts with lauren.

breathtaking 6

at night, i sleep in a forest castle.  guarded by my one dragon.  and seth.

breathtaking 7

when i am thirsty, i go down to the well of eternal youth.  where i drink my fill every night.  giving back elasticity to thoughts and memories.  where my heart ached and my soul remembers.

breathtaking 8

at night, when i sleep, i listen to the gentle sounds of a goddess playing.  sad notes of remembrance.

breathtaking 9

i am haunted by the sound of a saxophone.

. . . . still, my soul leaves every night to commune with my beloved.

——————————————————————————-

a week ago i looked inside my mind and everything has changed.  the quest of 20 years has ended.  over.  done.  complete rest.

 

 

it has been a quest that i never fully understood why i did it in the first place.  it was like a drug that i could not move from.  powerful chemicals continued to be released in my brain.  search chemicals who demanded a resolution. now that a resolution has been found, i rest.  and another chemical is released.  one that consolidates and matures what is.

i was in johannesburg.

when i woke up last saturday i saw two beautiful children in cape town and a national business who must all grow up.  who need their father.

 

i gave my place in johannesburg up that same week-end.

my closest friend told me one day that there is no such thing as coincidence.  i think of this as i watch “out of africa” on TV.

the movie is over.  i look around me and for the first time. . .  i see what is around me.  i have never noticed it.

the coffee tables with the vases.  the bookshelf full of books.  the strange titles of the books.  the curtains.  the black leather couches that i will replace very soon with the couches that my uncle bought for my grand parents in pretoria – many years ago.  the ironing board.

i see it all.

suddenly, i live in the moment.  as if nothing else matters.  the choices for woodys brands today.  the planning for tomorrow – done today.

tomorrow i will take lauren to rantange junction and nothing else will matter.  i will climb table mountain and it will be the most important thing i can do.

 

 

a few weeks ago, while climbing a particularly difficult route, Tristan and I came upon a most beautiful spot.  Opposite Lions Head, with the Twelve Apostles to ones left.

tristan climbed high on one of the rocks and told me. . .  ”dad, if i ever die before you, i want you to cremate me and put my ashes here”, pointing to a small cave in the rock.

i have pointed out the cave on Lions Head where i want the kids to put my ashes one day.  a few months earlier on a stunning hike.  tristan told me that it is quite something for him to know that he will rest in such a beautiful place and that we will both be opposite each other forever.

these are the moments that is my life.  and i see it for the first time.  tristan, lauren, the woodsy.

Its the end of 2010 and a week ago everything changed.

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Posted in engineering in ether, Faith, Hope and Love, legends, living, symmetry, systems | 2 Comments

09. engineering in hope

beautiful earth1

mist – covers every crevice of soul.  look out over world – created in ether.  exists.

i breath deep.  in and out.

my hands tighten slightly. . . fingers twitch.  even when i relax. . . ready.  trained for war.

thoughts run through every possible outcome of my life.  every event is interpreted through the filter of my personality.  every turn leads me to the present “now”!

“here”!

mist clears.  snow capped mountains.

a man runs through the forest.  frantic.  lost.

i look at the trees and the rocks around him. they are not lost.  or frantic.  they are “now” and “here”.  for the forest it is enough that old trees die and young trees take over.  as long as the forest survives.  and the occasional lost man can run through it.

the forest is in a world.  for the world it is enough that there are a few forests.  some may die and some will live.  and even if they all die, the world is not frantic or worried.  Its got another billion time spans to morph into something greater.

see world

how have i come to this place of solitude.  where i can embrace loneliness.

it is good when there are no words.

beautiful mountains

a million miles inside my soul.  things shift.

beautiful earth 2

i hear and see.  understanding?

understanding is complicated.

stars form around me.  i smile.

beautiful4

in the light of the great ones.  in the consciousness that defines all i see.  i look and see everything around me.

adventure of every moment.

beauty of a dream.

reward of hard work.

beauty x3

and how one can behold perfection for even a short while.

and hold it so perfectly.

it sustains for a lifetime.

and how ones heart can go on a stroll in the cool of the evening.  bath in the memory of perfection.

and return to the world where he engineers . . .

in solitude

and hope

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10. the goddess

mind short circuits.  runs loop tapes.  evaluates friendships.  systems.  probability.  positioning.  output capacity.  school fees for T and La.

i forget where i am.  dazed and disoriented.

my dragon snorts.  hand stroked over his head.  cold scales.  lean forward.  whispers in his right ear :

take me to my mountain, ZORBA.

Zorba, my dragon responds.

speeds me to my mountain of solitude.  where i meet self.

i dismount.  start climbing.

Image2165

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“how long have I yearned to climb your majestic cliffs, oh mountain of solitude”

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Image2313

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calm my raging mind.  clear conscious thought from my mental world.  redeem me from my inner world that i create.  let me see the landscape that is.  not what i imagine.

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Image2278

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plants sway violently in gale force wind.

mind rests.

being breaths.  communes with the great ones.

unutterable words are spoken.

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goddess1

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I the one, who also am your brother, and companion in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of the great ones, was in the holy mountain, to commune with self and the goddess of all the earth.

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I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, and heard behind me a great voice, as of a trumpet,

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saying, I am Alpha and Ome’ga, the first and the last: and, What thou seest, write in a book, and send it unto the seven groups which are in Asia, Europe, the Americas and Australia.

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¶ And I turned to see the voice that spake with me. And being turned, I saw seven golden candlesticks;

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and in the midst of the seven candlesticks one like unto the daughter of all the earth, clothed with a garment down to her feet, and girt about the loins with a golden girdle.

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Her head and hair were dark like chestnut, as breath taking as the sea; and her eyes were as a flame of fire;

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and her feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace; and her voice as the sound of many waters.

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And she had in her right hand seven stars: and out of her mouth went a sharp two-edged sword: and her countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength.

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¶ And when I saw her, I fell at her feet as dead. And she laid her right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last:

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I am she that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.

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I am the pattern and eternal inspiration of everything that you will ever build and create and engineer.  I am.

.

goddess2

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Zorba licks my right hand.  wind!  trees!  flowers!  clouds swirl about.

i sit down on cold limestone.

close my eyes.

#

in the distance i hear gentle saxophone notes.

#

my mind stops and my soul communes with the divine. . .

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couple in love

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11. solitude

alone in a great wonder land. my heart – soft incantations from a white witch. my soul communes with my spirit. it drinks eternity.

.

soul stares out,
across holy spaces.
cathedrals of gaia

i rest.  become who i am.  commune with the ancients.

.

.
runners from the south brings bad news
of betrayed trust
from the west, brings accusations of betrayal
of shattered expectations

soul looks out.  its blameless.  every choice i made – done in integrity.

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spirit sees our ship.
the “why”  behind every turn.
wind.  current.  visibility.
cause and effect.  goal – what works.

tristan asks me – lets go and watch a movie!  i set up a FB account for Lauren.

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my mind – clears.  thought – stops.  i am.

a raven delivers a vision.  spiders spin a web of wisdom around it.  seth protects.

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my fingers caress fair cheeks
play with her soft hair
lips whisper words of love and commitment
then kiss her

testing my own heart was good.  my commitment is eternal.

.

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i open my eyes.  lean back.

im alone.

solitude.

.

.

.

.

 

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12. the light of christmas

zorba, my dragon – calm.  on top of a koppie (hill).  i dont get off.  feel him breath.  hear him snort.  close my eyes.  banish thought.  calm my mind.  warm December Highveld wind against face.

entire body shivers.  runs down my spine. body contorts.  spasms.

Meet Vladimir Horowitz.  Somewhere between Kiev and Johannesburg.  Beethoven   engulfs my suspended mind.  fused – now glides through all reality.

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have been engineering reality since I can remember.  frantic.  building.  exploring.  searching.  challenging.  never satisfied with any answer.  even the questions.

a few nights ago.  Marcus Aurelius and I were talking.  He said that living life is more important than reading many books.

I did not respond.  He was still talking.  I could hear my kids in the pool outside.  He was trying to get my attention when I got up and walk out.

We swam all afternoon.

the next day i spoke to someone who’s mind is at rest.

i feel my sword next to me.  force the deliberate thoughts from my mind.  allow my body to think.  lead in the cosmic dance.

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Bagan_1

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i see great civilisations.  Anawrahta’s voice thunders through my mind.  startles me.  i am suspended in mid air.  with beethoven and Vladimir Horowitz.

“listen to her, eben!  all answers are inside of you!  I’ve build a great empire from inside my soul!”

Bagan2

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my eyes see images –  beautiful –  there are no words to describe them.

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great waters – fill the entire earth.  spring from africa.  where Zambia, Botswana and Zimbabwe meet.

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earth starts trembling under me.  Zorba – restless.

But . . .

my mind soars.   relax.  For the first time ever I breath because I want to!  Filling my longs with air so that I can live and love becomes more important than all the knowledge on earth.

one short life.  here!  now!

Open my eyes.  Suddenly!  Great danger from the North and the West.  I see every move before it happens.  Been trained for war.  Grew up on the battlefield.  My hand instinctively reach for my sword.  Zorba snorts nervously!  awaiting my command.

“TO WAR!”

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but I dont give it.  the fight will be for another day.

Tomorrow is Christmas.  I dismount.  Walk the 5km home.  Where I help my kids to cook a gammon.

my spirit remains with Vladimir Horowitz.  where i dance over ancient and new lands with my beloved.  Courtesy of JS Bach and Chopin!

we drink wine.  watch the sun set over ancient thoughts and a new life!

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bagan3

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blinded by the unbearable lightness of being.

and christmas.

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Posted in mythology | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

13. the seasons of life

    even the greatest battles come to and end 

    mercifully

    riddles are intriguing, but wear one down

    even the best engineering in ether

    .

    the beauty of life is its cycle

    .

    Image2588

    and so one discovers that there is a time for every purpose under heaven.

    .

    remember holidays we spend in Fauresmith where my grandparents lived.  Just outside Jagersfontein.  south west of Bloemfontein.  This December I took Tristan there.

    Stand next to the train where we played many hours every day.

    .

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    honours the graves and memory of his grandparents.

    .

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    who lived and fought for different ideals than we cherish.  Created out today.

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    2010-12-30 15.19.26

    Remember the days i spend riding hordes on the farm in the Fredefort district.

    My girl, feeling the same wins through her hair – rush or adrenaline with the galloping hooves of the horse.

    .

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    .

    everything changed in 2010.

    .

    priorities changed.

    vision sharpened.

    brothers-in-arms became brothers-in-life

    .

    in all of this, through all the turmoil,

    all the many mistakes I have made,

    all the things i did right

    i am privileged to spend this life with some of the most amazing people on earth

    .

    lauren

    .

grow and change.

always “become” a better me.

.

and to love!

.     .    Truly love!

.    .    .    . Eternally

.    .    .    .    1

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entrusting my soul to me

I quite my mind and look inside.  Examine my soul!

Can other people judge motives?

Not mine.

I see the master plan.  In my mind.

I work to perfect shapes.  Designs, edged into my soul.  Values.

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Do I lie, betray, steal?  NO!  I know my heart.

I entrust myself to the great life force!  Sustainer of all the living.

I will be my own judge.  Volumes of fiery arrows fired repeatedly.  Questioning loyalty, friendship, motives.

The judges give their verdict before the accused can make an appeal!  Fuck, why must I argue for clemency in my own defence?!  Why even entertain those who feel wronged in the midst of a war?  It the point of war not victory?  Is non-performance of another and different giftedness a moral defect in me?  Is each one not on his or her own journey?

entrust 1

I am complete in myself.  I can scale every wall.  I will triumph!

Does this mean that I have no more lessons to learn?  NO!

I am complete.  But have I been perfected? NO!

Am I arrogantly setting myself up against my friends?  NO!

DO I have any reason to judge them for their actions?  NO!  I can evaluate their performance, look at what is required by the situation and act.

Do I see their motives 20:20?  NO!

Do i still love them?  YES!

entrust 2

In the morning I declare that salvation and freedom is inside me.  Quietness and harmony.

I refuse the fretting of others.  It is not mine.

I deny the arrows of the judges of the world.

“guard my heart from judging my fiercest opponent!”

I refuse judgement and I replace it with respect and tender love.

I esteem them highly!  I value them!  I respect their choice if they decide to hate me.

entrust 3

let me be who i can be.  let me love as never sure to love again.  let me create, as a living man in a living space!  If any person, in the ebb and flow of the ether of life feel aggrieved by my action – it is not my intention!  (but I NEVER signed up to loose!  why can I not make the choices that will lead to victory)

as certainly as I will not deny the values that bound us together in the first place, as certainly will i always hold my friends in the hollow of my heart!  in the dearest place in my being, I will love my friends!

if my actions seem to spell “betrayal” I will revenge the moment of deceit.  where in the battle i have to set myself against many enemy and momentarily act as if i have gone mad, i can not change who I am.  i will build a place of rest and quietness.   With my own bear hands I will carve out, not just a victory, but a place where friendships can be resumed and brothers can once again embrace each other.

We are who we are because of other people!

I embrace LIFE!

entrust 5

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epiphany

mountain of solitude.  understanding.  i climb to sort my mind out.  wind gusts around me.  cool mountain air streams from the top.  energy from the south that fills my lounges with hope.

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i pray:  “gaia, mother of the animate and inanimate.  created and uncreated reality.  to my soul.

friends have turned against me.
brothers make up their minds against me;
they think – TREASON!
judgments.  condemnation.  moral depravity.
they curse the day they met me”

a voice speaks to me from on high.  i have heard the voice before. . .
she says:  “when we think and act we create a vortex around us.  when we take hold of reality around us – forge it into what we want it to be, power shifts to us.  it is a law of life like breathing.  it is how it is.”

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i will myself forward.  1000m up on my mountain of longing.  friends don’t see this.  they state the obvious.  they demand that simple logic alone must warrant a greater share of what is being created.  they demand without an inkling of what it takes to engineer in the ether of life.

cool mountain air.  my legs burn as I climb towards salvation.

i become aware of him.  running besides me.  zorba!  my young dragon.

to the right of me.  seth.  the leopard.  flanking me on the other side.  i smile and pick up the pace.  every step i take; every meter of altitude i gain, like climbing out of a dungeon.  i have not seen seth or zorba for many days.  and suddenly :  here they are!

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at the waterfall i see her.  spread across the late midday sun – a beautiful young cobra.  I gasp.  stand i awe.  zorba and seth both stop.  look at me.

“my cobra!”, i think.

i pause – only for one second.  then press on.

what makes my certain action more valuable?  my cobra speaks to me.
“if you refuse how things are and create something new, you bend reality to your will and you create!”

“everything in life tends to a state of equilibrium.  refuse this!  and you become a force like gravity that pulls planets into your orbit!”

“thoughts are not commodities traded on the stock market!  It utilises instruments as and when required!”

i become aware of many more dragons joining zorba.  where did they come from?  why are they here?  but they are here!  as assuredly as the wind blows in my face and infuses my lounges with hope and power!

packs of dragons run next to me – to my left and my right.  they breath fire.  they roar blood curdling thunderbolts of sound.

I climb ten thousand steps.  across time immemorial.  unto the divine.

for the first time i understand the seagull.  her work.  she does this on galactic scales.  she transforms universes.  taking every though and every intent of men and woman captive and bending it to the will of the supreme.  aligns structures and values to corporate objectives.  refusing equilibrium.  shifting mind-sets.

creating!

she is god!

high above me – michael.  as i rush over rocks to the top of my mountain of understanding – i see!  the first time ever.  his huge wings echoes in the cliffs around me.  his shadow falls over me.

dragons run and roar around me.  michael above me.  i look at him and think:  cant he pick me up and carry me to the top?

a crystal clear voice echoes from on high.  above the commotion of the dragons and the thunder of powerful wings.

no eben, you must run.  climb every rock yourself.  it is your journey. it has been given to you by the ancients.  you not only agreed to this – you asked for it!  from me, i send you energy on the south-easter blowing in your face – breath it in!  breath!”

I dont stop, but I look up!

to see the voice that is talking to me.  in the brilliant clouds that sweeps across vast spaces of eternity past and future,  around majestic mountain cliffs i see her:

my seagull!

seagull

you have been given two creators to work with you who also bend reality to their will.  together you are a team.  do what you have set out to do.  accomplish everything your hand has taken hold off.”

suddenly landscape changes.

dragons are still running next to me, but no fire or roaring.  they play!

michaels shadow continues to cover me.

my spirit knows – “i am in the land of the dragons”.

they are everywhere.  above and below me.  frolicking around on lush, green grass growing on high mountain cliffs.

the tranquillity of the moment temps me.

and again the most beautiful voice comes to me.  like in a dream.  my seagull calls to me when she sees my eyes wonder and heart reach out:

dont be tempted eben.  at the top of the mountain is your prize“.

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determination.  focus.

every step is a mixture of torture, achievement and resolve.

i see  – brilliant light at the top of my mountain of rebirth.  I make my last turn for the top.  over volcanic rocks, strewn about by earthquakes and mountain lakes that burst open millions of years ago.  (i remember it like yesterday)

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i am there!  The top!  michael swoops up into the clear dark sky.

before me:  brilliant light.  three figures.  myself, my beloved and a young man we created.

for a moment i commune with them.  we fuse.  have been part of my soul since eternity past.  i am transformed.  again and again.  become another person.

on the way down, as i leave the realm of the dragons, the pack who ran next to me is no more there.

understanding.   – she sent them.  she knew all along.

that night i sleep.  when i wake, terrified because of wars that must be fought the next day i smile.  turn to Zorba and send him ahead to conquer minds and hearts.

no longer will i fight.  zorba, seth, my cobra, stallion, spider . . .  my counsel.  they will protect me and enlighten me.  they will persuade and convince ahead of time.

then there is the powerful michael.  i have seen him!  ran in his shadow!

i despatch zorba to the land of gold where reality refuse to bend to our will.  he will melt hearts and minds with fire that nobody can resist.

the next morning i sit by the window.  seat 14A on a 1Time flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg and I recount the momentous events from yesterday when I climbed Table Mountain.

outside the window i see her, flying with the plane.  driving the pilots insane!  beautiful voice and perfect body!   and eternal wisdom.  not a woman!  a goddess!

my seagull!

seagull woman

Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 2: interjection

Events of the past week leave me stunned.  Amazed because of the realities of my existence.

Before I got on the 1Time flight to Johannesburg, I climbed Table Mountain.  Alone.

All was going well.  A routine visit.

Zorba

Suddenly, while I climbed, Zorba, my dragon, was with me.  I have not noticed him for weeks – months.  Now I see him.

seth

I saw Seth, the vigilant leopard stalking overhead on my left flank.  It was odd. . .  Seth was not my leopard!  Seth alerted me to the presence of the seagull.  The one she serves.  I first heard the seagulls crystal clear voice and then I saw her!  Flying high overhead.

Packs of dragons  to my left and right.  Above me, for the first time I saw him:

Michael!

michael

All pre-warned me that what I expected to be a routine trip to Johannesburg will be a fight for survival.

Johannesburg turned out to be a fight for life and death.  Nothing short of this.

I did not expect the battle to be here and now.  But I have always expected it.

In preparing for a time like this, new alliances were shaped.  Contracts signed.  The great onces called as witnesses to new realities.

Old friendships had to be severed.  I did not understand why.  Not at the moment.  The reason why the great ones asked this of me only dawned on me this morning, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Johannesburg turned out to be the fight that will form our future.

When I returned to Cape Town that evening, I knew that all was not well, but did not fully comprehend the gravity of the situation.

As soon as I landed, I was off to my mountain again.  Zorba was not there.

As much as I tried to imagine him, I could not.

I realised that he remained in Johannesburg to finish what was started the previous day and the magnitude of events of that day started to dawn on me.

It was tense times when I got back from my maintain.

Something else happened on the mountain that evening.  I took a pic at the exact place where it happened:

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I suddenly understood “power over distance”.  I knew how she does it and what I need in order to do the same.  Suddenly I understood it so well that I could do it, but did not dare.  I am not ready for this even though I understand it.

Its not just a matter of buying and burning of candles.

The next day the battle was resumed.  Zorba, Seth, Michael and my seagull. . . . . all took part in the campaign in Johannesburg while I was in Cape Town.

The battle played out the following day.  It was Laurens birthday.

That evening we went to the Spur, a local steakhouse to celebrate.   I went for a run before we left.  As I ran, I knew the battle was won.

Zorba was back, trying to bite my ankles as I ran.

The immense impact of these events only started to dawn on me over the following couple of days.

Everything that happened over the past week precipitated to one element:  “strategy”.

Strategy that flows from mission, vision and values.

as I write this, I realise that I have heard these words before. . . .

from a beautiful seagull!

Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 3: apprehend

South Easter howls.  6:00 a.m.  Tristan and I have an appointment with our mountain of understanding.

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Swiftly we get to the top.

We deviate from the route.

We see lands without end.

Our eyes drink in beauty.

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With sunlight comes understanding.

Over an hour we meditate on the greatness of all our reality.

We stand at the edge of comprehension.  We see deep into agreements that is.

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Suddenly – I comprehend mysteries.

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I want to shelter and protect.  Thinking that I can save.  My mind -  focussed on wrong targets.  To pity and to love -  two different things.  Oil and water!

for the first time ever, on my mountain of solitude, with Tristan by my side, i look and behold. . .  I see love face-to-face!

The strategy must involve immediate action.  Our mission.

Immediate action must serve a greater ideology.  A grand vision for the future.

Ideology must be tested against the prevailing matrix of everything.  The ether of all of life.

Boundary’s must be respected.

Strategy must be clear.

People who fight wars of dependence must be let go to find themselves on their own mountains of solitude.  My time of taking burdens that belong to others are over (as I head for Durban I ask myself – do you know the implication of this on how you handle the companies pricing policy or credit extension?).

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Understanding becomes like rainclouds.  It precipitates and feeds paradise.

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and love, like a stroll through a beautiful forest.  Or climbing a majestic mountain.

Like a good battle plan or a gammon for Christmas. . . the more time it takes to mature, the greater the enjoyment of that moment will be.

when you reach the top!

love

I am like a dead man before the surpassing greatness of our existence.

for the first time I love and love remains unfulfilled and in the unfulfilled nature of that love I see indescribable beauty.

Year of the Dragon

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white witch

her thoughts are ordered
her world decorous
she exists in ascendancy
the white witch of imperishability

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white which 3

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her melodious laughter before we go to bed.  her touch and soft skin.
incantations and eternal life we share.

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white which 4

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her spells are omnipotent
cast in accuracy
she dwells in turbulence
the white witch of perpetuity

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white which 5

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you glide to me in caliginosity to teach ancient rituals.
fire, the breath of life and soul-memory elasticity.

you are the sun,
the moon.

the beginning and end.

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you are the white witch – dancing  the song of the light in infinity

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spell of life

ICELAND VOLCANO

i thank the universe for the spirits of opposition that came to me in this season.  the gifts that they brought to me.  the many lessons that i had to learn from them.

thankful 9

in the evening i sit down and meditate.  listen to my own soul.  become quite.  see each opposition.  and learn.

I look, listen and integrate.

If need be, I get in a helicopter and fly around the landscape of my life to gain insight and understanding.

thankful 8

i have again done so today.

now,

they dont belong to me.  I send them away to someone else.

thankful 7

i am better equipped for tomorrow because of today.  I realize that if I fail to learn the lessons installed for me, that I will not be able to move on from this point.  stuck in a closed feedback loop.

i open myself to the universe and the systems surrounding me.  i allow energy and thoughts to flow between me and the matrix of life so that i can learn and evolve.

thankful 6

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i embrace harmony.  i send every attempt at disharmony away from me.  it is not mine.

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thankful 4

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i embrace design.  improvement.

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thankful 3

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i embrace the values that makes me myself and respect for every person that i meet.

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i refuse to take the lessons that others have to learn on myself.  each of us have our own path.

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i will only appropriately assist others, but i will not and can not be anybody’s saviour and thus rob them from the lessons they have to learn.

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i thank all those whom i resented in the past who refused to be my saviour and was gracious enough to allow me to learn the lessons that i did.  this by itself it a lesson.  i must allow others even  to resent me and not always try and establish harmony with everybody.

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i will find appropriate ways of dealing with the frustration in my life.

In this night, i will sleep well and allow my mind and body to be rejuvenated.  my spirit to gain insight and lock in the lessons of this day.

so that tomorrow i will be a better and more effective man.

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and walk the road that i agreed on with the great ones!

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Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 4 – rules of inference

at the bottom of my mountain, the weather is fair.

on the slope its extreme!

wind:  gale force!

rain:  persistent!

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the fight – all is going well.

in the storm, under overhanging cliffs, between the rocks where I took the picture I see, ZORBA!

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beautiful dragon

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What the hell is he doing here?  I wish him away.

I feel a cold setting on as I climb.  Throat burns.  FREEZING cold!

I refuse to see ZORBA.  I climb.  “Nothing is wrong!”

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I make it to the top.  record time.  then turn to get back before I’m to cold.

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On the way down my council appears.

My snake speaks to me.

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beautiful snake

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“eben, you battle to remember the rules of inference discovered by other people.  Calculus and advanced algebra.”

“there is an internal set of rules of inference in the soul of every person.”  “you know your own rules of inference.  very well.”

“the fight that you are about to fight . . .  remember”!  “be as wise as a serpent!”

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I force snake out of my mind.  SETH walks in my footsteps.

beautiful leapard

I put my hand out to stroke her head.

She snarls at me!  I shout at her.  SETH!

still – it startles me.  WTF!

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the ground starts to thunder.  sparks fly from hooves.  nostrils flare.

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beautful horses

feel every staccato beat.  next to me i sense another.  running in sync!

suddenly, in front of me – A CLIFF!  we dont think.  JUMP!

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Instantaneously transported.  faster than light!  To Ireland.  Despite the fact that Im descending from my mountain, I climb a stairway to heaven.

beautiful stairwell

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a voice speaks to me.  from deep inside my soul, as I climb.

“values and energy create internal set of rules of inference.”

“Picture that is your ship exists there.”

“Values drive actions.”

“Energy creates passion.”

“Draw people into a concept vortex.  people who’s internal values resonates with yours.”  ”people who dont are pushed away”

“in the fight – ignore words – work on soul level.  pay attention to values.”

“listen to your snake!  BE horse!”

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that night, i sleep.  dreaming of a white witch by my side.  my love!

beautiful woman

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and tomorrow. . .

beautiful us

Year of the Dragon

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asthma – the follow up

i have suffered from asthma almost for as long as I car remember.  a few years ago a pulmonologist told me that the asthma I had is “severe”.

I could not walk to the car without using medication.  woke up at least 3 times EVERY night to take medication!

One morning I was walking with a friend in Johannesburg and the asthma remained under control.

That morning startled me!

WTF!

Woodys had a brilliant corporate consultant at the beginning of 2010.   After I landed up in hospital with a severe lunge problem that took a specialist 7 days to get under control, instead of sympathising with me, she suggested that I start dealing with the issues underlying the asthma emotionally and stop using medication.

I did that and made remarkable progress, but my doctor almost had a heart attack when i told her my story.  She pleaded with me to continue to use at least the Symbicord.  I did and within a month had to use it every day again to keep it under control.

I decided one day, a month ago – “Fuck this!”  Its getting worse by the day and I stopped using any medication again.

Since then I have been able to do a work-out of at least 2 hours every day with NO need for any medication.

The last week I have been sick with a head-cold and was plagued with asthma symptoms, but I refused to give in.

This morning at 11:30 Tristan, my 13 year old son and I embarked on a 6,5 hours hike from Houte Bay, across Table Mountain, to the cable car station.

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I was severely asthmatic when we started, but told Tristan that I will not take the medication.  If I pass out he can tell the paramedics that I did not take any asthma medication.

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I battled halfway up the mountain.  In severe distress to breath.  Thoughts ran through my mind.  The basic problem with asthma is breathing out.  Exhaling.

I looked at this and how I respond to very stressful situations.  Our corporate consultant pointed out to me that when I discuss stressful situations in the business with her, that I dont breath.  I breath in, but I talk and even then, I dont breath out!

I have spend hours meditating on this and asked Tristan to help me identify the times when I stop breathing.

I breath in and hold whatever is happening in my lunges inside.  Exactly like the issues facing me and the people I love.

I realise that my biggest problem has been that I make everybody around me’s problems mine.  I dont let go.  I dont exhale.

Family and personal tragedies caused me to breath less and less.

As I climbed I ran these thought through my mind.  I make lists regularly of issues facing me in my life.  Write it on small pieces of paper. I sit around a candle and burn them as part of a process that is becoming part of my daily routine.

As the papers burn I mentally release the issues in my mind.  I address every one of them.  Thank them for what they taught me.  Then, release them.  From that moment, they are not mine.

Every business and personal issue I face, I take through this careful process.

As Tris and I were hiking and climbing, I repeated the mantra in my mind, releasing every issue facing me.  Welcoming my council in my life.

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Tris and I came to an overhanging rock at a time when we were not sure if our water would last.  Did not know how far we still had to go.  The sun was blistering hot and we welcomed the shade.

We rested for 5 minutes.  There was NO sign of asthma.  None!  Despite the fact that we were doing hard climbing and were exhausted at this point!

I am not saying that other peoples asthma is the same as mine or that the underlying causes are the same.

All I say is that, in my life, when I take people’s issues around me upon myself and I dont let it go. . .  when I see myself as a saviour and dont allow every man, woman and child to grow their own hands, learn to walk, run and become themselves all they can be by their own process . . . when I dont exhale the issues my soul breaths in, my body responds with ASTHMA!

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We made it to the cable car station.  Exhausted!  But refreshments were waiting and no sign of asthma.

Today was a glorious day and I am thankful that I am alive, in an amazing universe!

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 05: the pearl

4 hours in

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On my way to the top – my mountain of solitude.  Compelled by reasons which I dont understand.  Driven by forces that I came to love.  These are the events as they happened.  Every word is true!

Dragons surround me.  Packs.

They are not here to protect.  They are there to escort.

Above me – Michael!  In his hand – a golden staff!  His shadow covers me as he flies with powerful stroked of his majestic wings.

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michael

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Im at the top.  Calm.  Great resolve!  Ready!

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Michael standing in brilliant sunlight.  Hands me the staff.  I take it.

On the handle is a single pearl.

My mind reaches back to one night!  When I first heard the story. from her lips.  on the wings of her soft voice.

“The staff”, he thunders, “is for you”

“The pearl is for her.”

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suddenly – he is gone.

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Only the dragons – playing in short mountain shrubbery.

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Knowledge:  The dragons will stay.  No longer only one.

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Life morphed from a partial battle to constant war!  Till lands have been conquered and opposition subdued.

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My heart did not pound.  It was as calm as my soul!  Resolute – like my spirit!

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I breath the breath of life.  In my hand, the golden staff of war!

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creative war 1

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Then I turned to carry the pearl to her.

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dragon woman at sea

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my immortal beloved.

Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 06: memory

my dragons. . .  nowhere to be seen.  a butterfly.  breeze.  mountain shrubbery.  low clouds rising from a ravine.

i meet god.  define him.  understands her.  the quest of a life!  it hits me out of nowhere.

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my mind rests.  i am exhausted.  its a hard climb.  after an intense battle in Johannesburg.

my dragons. . .  bruised.  recovering.

my mind – communes with the divine.  and in the cool breeze, i remember.

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millions of years ago, a tale was told about love that defines life.  At the mountains of the moon ~ north of Capricorn.  on the great continent of africa.

there my princess lived.  everyone called her gabby.  i called her gabriela.

she came from a far land with strange customs.  land of brazil where they speak an even stranger language called portuguese.

her father ~ a ruthless man.  sold her to a rich man from the arab world – عبد العزيز  (Abd-al-aziz – servant of the powerful).

Adb-al-aziz held her captive in his harem.  allowed her to see him over week-ends. only some.  would summons her.

i was sitting at “the well of knowledge of good and evil”.  asked for the purpose of life.

she appeared to me from the great sea and guided me to my own ship.  own people.  own destiny.  i became the creator of worlds.  part of the Harmony.  we created woodys world.

gabriela did not just want to leave her captor  عبد العزيز.  contracts had to be fulfilled.  between her and عبد العزيز.  Between her and her dad.  Between her dad and عبد العزي.

sunset africa

so, at night while the milky way would spiral songs from nothingness and sprinkle beauty over destitute and happy people ~ our souls would commune.   and source would take our words and transport it over the great open plains of africa.  and connect us.  deep and profound.  union unfathomable.

shepherds who face ferocious lions and buffalo gain courage;  men and woman who have to save their villages from thirst-death would gain wisdom ~ from spirit movement between me and gabriela.

and sangomas would throw bones and imagine the spirits of their ancestors speaking to them.

gabriela and i ! souls fused ~ hearts beat synchronized as love existed that had no boundaries.  love that create gods ~ !

before the dawning of gabriela ~  at “the well of the knowledge of good and evil” ~ life was meaningless.

hunted game in the morning and late afternoon to fill stomachs of a hungry tribe of white people living at the mountains of the moon.  descendants of people who’s GPS coordinates one day got scrambled when the satellites fell from the sky in a solar flair.

عبد العزيز allowed her to move to the mountains of the moon for some time and half a time and double that again.  never alone.  always guarded by knights of his arab order.  ready to kill anyone who would get close to her.

besides her, life did not add up.  “why”.  none of the great mountains had any answer.  neither the animals.  nor the plants of africa.  or the melodious milky way.  or the satellites falling from the sky.

“why” did not compute.  was irrational.  never a reason.

This is Africa

one morning i looked out over the vast desert of namib.  saw a cloud.  No. . .  not a cloud.  Dust!

Dust cloud approached me.  outside my city.

saw it was a man.  walked up to me.

“im looking for eben, father of Woody”. . .  the old man said.

“and the universe must be smiling upon you for you found him”, I said.

he spoke in the dialect of a tribe who did not rule this land for 800 years now.

“the gods tell me to tell him:  “revolt, freedom, passion.”  “and the greatest of these is passion”.

then he left.

at night, in my hut, i would talk to gabriela.  hold her.  kiss her.  make love to her.  my soul being transported to her where she is guarded by عبد العزيز.

in the morning ~  out in the fields, i would plough.  water.  plan.  till there was no power left in me.  passion.

passion became purpose.

عبد العزيز is another issue all together.

then she got an offer from a big TV station in Spain to talk about african food.  and sustainability.  and courage.  and quantum physics.

tomatos

she insisted on quality that I did not understand.  rear herbs and spices.  must be “real”.

I asked her about tomatoes.  She smiled.  Only organic, over-ripe tomatoes from israel.

intrigued.

so i walked down to the place of the lion.  and the hyena. and the buffalo.  leopard.  where grass is flat and one can see the entire valley below.

sat down.

cleared mind.

meditated.

and started singing  the song of africa.  Somewhere in Spain, across the Pyrenees, gabriela cuts a overripe israeli tomato on a television program watched by millions.

and in my soul I define god, and i remember.

Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 07: defining god

A system.

one thing impacts another if in the same environment.

the result is “c”.

If “a” and “b”, then “c”.

A group of interacting, interrelated, or interdependent elements forming a complex whole.

Components are closely integrated to form a complex interacting system that performs optimally at a position away from equilibrium.

A living system.

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LIFE 1: 1 – 4

1  In the beginning were systems, and these systems were with God, and the systems were God.

2 It was in the beginning – God.

3 All things came into being through it, and apart from systems nothing came into being that has come into being.

4 In these systems were life, and the life was the Light of humans.

systems1

simple systems developed.  became more complex.

new systems being created.  by itself – a system.  the system of the creation of systems.

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complexity increases.  perpetually.  feeds back into itself and changes the system. progressing it forward.  developing.  connecting with other systems.  cycle continues.  naturally moving from a state of chaos to order.  the web of life.

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systems 2

complexity – unfathomable.  daunting.  beautiful.  poetic.

patterns – the fingerprints of systems improving and managing chaos.

patterns develop out of all chaos.  amidst disorder.

the most chaotic place – look long enough and see – patterns.

over time – increased order.

the nature of all that exist.  predicated upon the physical nature of our environment.  one thing affects another.

systems.

god.

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patterns in experience.  common humanity.  systems – forces in our world.  many of it defined.  infinite numbers undefined.

yet, we see and feel the results of these forces.  most of it we can not explain.

people create myth.  a way of describing systems – incomprehensible.  Applied to specific peoples.  reflects their struggle to survive.  unite.  be.

a system in its own right.  the carrier of human morality.

Israel.  Arabia.  India.  Inca.  Tibet.  African.  united in our experience of systems that form us.  drive.  ground.

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coincidence.  the systems that brought the outcome about – magnificently complex – can not fathom it.  so we call it god.  or chance.

magic.  a word meaning “the result of a yet undefined system“.

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i think about someone on the other side of the world and he phones me.  at that moment.  the

result of systems.  grounded in our physical universe.  infinite in complexity.  systems. god.

system 3

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i love a woman.  more beautiful than any other creature -  existed or who will ever exist.

she manipulates thought over distance.  dances over the Pyrenees.  dwells in inapproachable light.

satisfies every desire and intent of my heart and mind fully.

the high priestess of life.  a goddess.  our connection – a magical system.  grounded in reality.

i am in love with systems theory.  and a god.

Year of the Dragon

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 08: boys become men

karoo

i glide across the vast Karoo flood basin.  the victors will receive the spoils.  so we fight.

dragons fight next to us.  their selflessness gives us courage.

high above the clouds rides the white witch on her broom.

her gaze – ever present.

not born of a woman or the daughter of a man.  her soul – forged in the great fires that created matter.    her indomitable spirit – the life essence that existed in infinite worlds that was before the big bang.

she who communes with the ancients and from whom the great ones take counsel.  she watches.  and directs.

next to me in the plain sits a young boy.  he looks at me and asks:  “will you be my friend?”.

i smile.  “of course”.

DESTINY

contract

the great ones sign contracts. we agreed on the end of our lives before it began.  we are playing out a script that was written and agreed on millennia ago.

i have a dream.  to unite the chiefs of the great grasslands.  raise an army that will move like the mist on the back of a strong wind.  shoot our bows from galloping horses.

show no mercy.  break every rule of what nobles call “civil”.

he dreams of constructing city’s on high hills where enemy can not attack.  where inhabitants are safe.  where peace rules perpetually.

these are eternal contracts that were written by our own hands.

BOYS

warrior

he lives in a castle in europe.  i live on the grasslands of asia.

he sleeps in a bed.  i sleep on the floor.

every day I start out with no food and no drink.  i go out and hunt.  if i fail, i sleep hungry.

he lives in the a city where they feed you and cloth you and if you fail to achieve after many days, they may banish you.  but you eat.

he drinks red wine and eats fine food.  the king pays him well for his wisdom!

i drink the beer of my enemies and devour stuffed pigs after i beheaded their owners in blood-thirsty war.

when the moon is full we meet and share stories.  dream of great adventures and a life away from the life we live.

he dreams of a world with no war.  where enemy will be converted to friends.  swords will be forged into plough’s.  where life will be full and rich.  and the lion and the lamb will lie down together.

i dream of war.  where enemy is skilful and the battle hard and long.  where i plunge a sword through the heart of my enemy and ruin him forever!

we both dream, but we don’t define what we dream about.  yet, there is much to learn from the dreams of other boys.

MEN

monguls

suddenly – no longer children.

chiefs that i had to convince now give me a chance to speak at the camp fire.

a seagull guides me.

a dragon appears.  is it her protector, or my heart?  sometimes its the one. . . sometimes its the other.  sometimes – both.

tribes unite.  leaders pledge alliance.  around a common purpose.  better economies of scale.  better trade.  better resources.  just “better”.

dragons of war and protection are deployed.  the white witch.  we ride to “destiny”.

all this happened in the two thousand and eleventh year of the Christian era.  it was war!  and I was thirsty for blood!

he abhorred war.  had a vision of a new heaven and earth.  a heavenly jerusalem.  a city build on a hill.  structurally safeguarded from the warring peoples of the plains.

REALITY

barberian

i promised what i could never keep.  that as soon as the tribes have been united -   after much blood has been spilled, and an empire has been forged – that we would make the city our capital.

i was a fool!

this was not what was agreed upon with the ancients.  was never my destiny.  i live for war!  why will I ever stop?

he was a fool!

he pretended that he was a warrior.  that he could contribute to the campaign.

the tribes mocked me.

when war was upon us and great suffering, his support dissipated.  he was building a city.  we were fighting a war.  worlds collided.  i sang his praises.  he believed me.  the leaders of the tribes in the alliance shook their heads.

the leaders assembled.  demanded from me what i demanded from them.  you either fight this war with us, hand to hand combat, every man with a sword, or you die.  if he is not in, he is out!  no middle ground.

the last time i saw the boy on the airplain was when he left for the mountains.  to fulfill contracts that were signed before time began.

white which 3

and in that moment, i yearned to kiss the white witch!

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 09: due north

due north

with the courage of the dragon, the speed of my horse i set out.  the python teach me to wait for the right time.    seagull imparts perpetual wisdom.  pink bubbles for love. blue for protection.

i have been waiting.

the road to the north has been closed for many years.  between Ithaca and I are kingdoms – fortresses – impenetrable.

refused to believe it can not be done.  sat on a cliff one day and thought.  if i sit here long enough and study the kingdoms who block Ithaca, i can figure out the weakness of each fortress.

why cant i sack every city and march on Ithaca.  make it my home?

my heart is drawn to it.  like a compass needle to the north.  contracts that i signed before time for me began with the great ones.

i prepare.

mountain hut

exposed to the wind and rain i build a house.  from where i could see Ithaca clearly.  vantage point to quickly advance on the cities who block my path.

months turned into years.  i raised a family.  beautiful kids who share in my quest.

every morning, when i leave for the forest i look towards the north.  Ithaca.  and the cities of opposition.

a dragon and a seagull trained me for war in secret places of the soul.  realities.  constellations.  worlds.

python came to me at night.

“learn from the great constrictors of africa” – she would whisper.  stop going down to the cities, irritating the soldiers with mock attacks.  you only wear yourself out.  wait.  prepare.  when the time is there, instinct will take over and you will strike.

trusted friends came by in the evening.  drink wine -  talk about  Ithaca.  we told stories of the great land.

one day a traveller appeared.  gave him shelter for the night.

there was something in the mannerism of the traveller.  could this be another warrior?

inside his heart I saw the courage of a dragon.

training

we started training together.  every night my friends came over.  drank the wine.  dreamt about Ithaca.  they did not train with us.  but their company was sweet.

in the day the worrier and i trained.

a white witch taught me.  called me away to the cliffs of my mountain of solitude where Michael gave me a staff with a pearl that I one day must hand to her.  when time has been fulfilled.

her beauty inspired me.  her commitment to all that is good.  her capacity to live life and to love.  love. . .

in the day i was preparing for war.  at night my friends spoke of a land with no war.  sang the song of eternal peace.

they did not like the worrier-companion and my constant training for war.  wanted to sing of love and peace.  eternal harmony and the blessings of Ithaca.

my fellow warrior and i looked.  studied.  if they want to come with us, they have to test themselves.  be ready for war and the sacking of the cities between us and Ithaca.

at night they dream with us, but in the day. . . .

(the beauty and lure of Ithaca is intoxicating)

we set out to test against the cities.

battle started.  testing.  it was a mild fight.  the focus of the fight.  battle cries. firmness of command in the heat of war!  these elements were all there.

Winterschlachtkoloriert

that evening, all made it back to the safety of the hut.  as my fellow warrior and i were recounting the excitement of the day, we saw our friends were quite.

disgusted with the smell of blood.  firm commands of war.  way we interacted when there was no time to be “polite”.  straight talk offended.

they hated every moment of it.

“lets forget this”, they insisted.  lets talk about the greatness of Ithaca instead.  lets not go out to war.  lets dream about the splendour of the life for people who fight their way past the cities of fortification.”

my fellow-worrier and i – stunned.  then i realized that they have their own Ithaca.  Different from ours.  they have their own wars.  battles.  cities of opposition.

How do we respond?   do we get angry with them?  judge them?

we reflect and realise – they have their own path.  own process to their own Ithaca.  every morning we set out for training and testing ourselves in battle against our opponents. we focus on the task at hand.  the war for our own dreams.

every night my friends wanted to dream about Ithaca.  its bounty and splendour and the absence of war.

one morning we knew it was time.  when our friends woke up were were gone.

due north 2

heading. . .  due north!

.

.Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 10: equalibria

the worrier and i – at the first city of opposition – equilibria.  gateway to ithaca.

wwii

after hours of walking through inhospitable terrain – fighting for every cm of ground – we stand before city walls – impenetrable.

guards posted on wall.  searchlights scan open field surrounding city walls.  land we have to cross to get inside.

spirits from the underworld hover above city.  eyes that never sleep.  fierce teeth hunger for blood.  search out anybody who dares approach or tries to pass by.

wind whispers in trees – “nobody passes, nobody dares, nobody who enters leaves alive”.  winds chant.  spirits sing.  the people in equilibria live and die by it.

equilibria – city of eternal stability and “how things are, have been and ever will be.”

my throat closes up.  know my fellow warrior – the same.  my legs give way under me.  fall-sit to the ground.

from a far land i hear a voice.  coming to me from across the Pyrenees.  see her beautiful face.  voice – crystal clear.  “remember, eben”

and i remember.

on my mountain of solitude.  weeks before.  took a new way up to the top.  got lost.  6 hours.  found my way back.  late.  in a hurry.  at fork in the road i turned – left.  (should have gone right – or should i have?)

blistering hot day.

Took this pic just before I started descent.

Image2767

suddenly the trail disappeared.  slope became steeper.  at a rock face i tried to get down.  had to jump the last bit.

in front of me – another rock face.  only. . .  higher.  Tried to get back.  could not get up the rock face i just jumped down.  to my left and right – blocked.  no way out.

panic!  nobody knew where i am.  rock face in the front of me must be 10 meters down onto thin rock ledge that leads to a place from where I could make it back to the trail.

life or death.

as thoughts rush through my mind – body goes limp – I sat down on ledge.  feet hanging over.  took water bottle out.  thought to myself . . .  “relax, eben.  first rule of survival.  if you panic you are dead”.

cleared my mind.  drank water.  breathed.

suddenly, out of nowhere my eyes started to see features of the cliff beneath me that I have not noticed before.

the more i looked, the more i saw a way down.  “THERE IS A WAY DOWN HERE!”

without thinking I tossed my back pack and water bottle down the 10 meter drop onto thin rock ledge.

now i was committed.  i had to move.  NOW!  did not think.  just did.

slowly.  down 10 meter rock face.  onto thin rock ledge.  another 4 hours later – i was at the foot of my mountain of understanding.

pic taken when i got down.  could hardly walk.  sun block all over my face.  at least i made it down alive!

Image2773

sitting in front of equalibria.  remember.  breath.  worship the white witch – for her beauty and her love.  i smile.  its all inside all of us.  look, listen, integrate.

pick up my backpack.  motions to my fellow warrior.  clears my mind.  throws my rifle into the lake.  my backpack.  food.  radio.

wwii - jimmy

“we are at the cliff, but we can not study the rock face from here.  we have to have a vantage point from where we can see.”

“come,” i motion to him.  “we have an audience with the king.  have to sit down at this ledge and study it first.  cant do it from out here.  we have to commit to it.  no way back.  study, find a way out and then toss all we have down that path.  commit.  and act!”

“first we become citizens of equalibria.  we study.  look.  listen.  integrate.  the white witch . . . . .  our spirits will rise.  we will find our way to ithaca.  from inside equalibria.”

wwii love

I will love my white witch!

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The Square Root of 3

The Square Root of 3 by Dave Feinberg

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed


.
eben van tonder – extreme writing

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 11: look, listen, integr8!

impenetrable city

Fellow warrior and I – en route to Ithaca. city of destiny.  First city of opposition -  Equalibria.  City of eternal stability.

Those who enter its walls can never leave.  Spirits fly over it – guarding it from anyone who tries to pass by.

No way around it.

Decided – instead of fighting it, join it.  Seek out way through it from the inside.

Solomon trained our hands for war:  “race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong for time and chance overtake them all”.

Inside the city walls the stress of the past few months – loss of life-long friends -   like morning over death – excitement of the fight –

we need a time to observe.

listen.

integr8!

and deal with emotions.

wwii soldiers in bar

at a bar one night, inside equalibria – I meet five friends.

the abattoir manager.  the old farmer.  the lawyer.  the expert and the butcher.

have been here for years. have good lives.

we drink our fill. they tell me about equalibria.  about rules of thought.  ways that things are done.

we become horribly drunk and go home.

on my way home i realise that i will return.  many times.  to talk to them.  to listen.  in their spirits i see something different.

they don’t rest.  seeking a way to escape.  and become.  to transform what is.  to defeat equilibria by changing it.  turn the city into an ally of “new”.

i do.  weeks go by.  and i return.  i dont do anything.  i ask.  i look.  i listen.  i integr8!  ->  and i WRITE!

ww2 soldier writing

I become sick.  four weeks.  treatment stepped up.  my body does not respond.  good doctors in equilibria.  they battle.  my spirit is stubborn.  it hold on to emotions.  they fester and produce venom.

as i discover about equilibria – its rules and ways – and strategy develops – my body holds on to the past.  past few months.

i write strategy down for my fellow warrior.

lybia, 1942

im done. vision 20:20.

i seek out city elders.  who have been appointed by the city to seek dissidents and exterminate.  i know they are paid by city leaders.  so i argue – they already work for money.  why cant i pay them the same way that the city pays them.  buy their analysis.  and their silence.

paid-for-elders listen to my plans.  to turn and ally city.  show elders that they can stay the same. and prosper.  if they allow me to change city to become a channel to ithaca.  for those who want to accompany me.  only for me and fellow warrior.

one other in the city have to join us.  swear allegiance to our quest.

he is willing and able.  for the rest, everything will remain the same.  will just prosper more.

paid-for-elders listen.  then give their verdict.  “it can be done!”

i give my proposal to my companion.  fellow soldier of war and fortune.

then my body gives in.  my soul is transported to places far and away.

to the beaches of libya.  water fills my lunges.  i cant breath.

cant move.

then. . . from nowhere . . .  (no.  not from nowhere.  i know EXACTLY from where.)

. . . . .  from the place in her own heart.  own soul.  from the consistency of all that makes her the high priestess of all the living.  my immortal white witch.

. . . . . . from the front line where she is fighting the mother of all wars.  from castles, guarded by fierce dragons.

. . . . . . .  from the place of her beauty and bountiful capacity to love.  in her own bosom.

from this place, she speaks to me.

white witch 2

four words.  “. . . . “

“.” –> never give up.

“.” –>  you have everything inside of you to triumph.

“.” –> recognise the loss in your life.  dont fight or deny it.  dont wish it away.

“.” –> then,  give it an appropriate place and focus!

my soul transports . . .  my body is in equalibria.  my spirit is at my mountain of understanding.

dont find myself at the top.  instead.  right at the bottom.

i have to climb to the top.  every step.

for a week now my lunges have not been severely inflamed;  antibiotics worked their magic.

i started to eat again.  despite these i could still not breath as i started to climb.  lunges filled with septic phlegm.

I push up and on.  the first 45 minutes i think i will pass out any moment.  can not breath.  every cell in body fights.

suddenly my lunges are clear.  body relaxes.  as if my entire spirit releases.  mind sees.  and i breath oxygen reach mountain air!

Image2871

no dragons.  no seth.  no michael.  just me and my white witch.

i think i know, but i dont!

i dont leave my mountain of solitude.  wrestling with the advice from my white witch.

in a trance-like state – what is real.

“eben”, she called to me.  ”you have been dealing with the emotion of your lost friend for months now.  My message is not what you take it to be.  You have received these messages for months from me now.”

“its time to move on”

“your body is run down.  emotionally you are at a low point.  its natural to dwell on the past in times like these.  feel very sorry for yourself. run through sad experiences of your life like a loop tape. increases the emotion of feeling sorry for yourself.  control you mind, eben.”

“i want you to climb the maintain for a reason.  you have a choice.  either move on and embrace your ithaca or be entangled by memories and realities from your past forever.  you have no idea what we are capable off.”

in my vision i stand at the gates of equalibria and i see:

“eben”, she whispers next to me. “in my message is your destiny.”

“. . . .”

i see in front of me the note i gave my fellow soldier.  see a space that i left out.  a point of strategy to overcome all and everything.  to align equalibria behind us.  and our quest.

soldien in dugout wwii

i see everything.

soul united with body.  in equalibria.

I sit up in my bed.  eat soup.

and smile.

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 12: the ghost of science

Science is as much a ghost as religion.  In our mind we build models of reality.  Based on the fact that it works we believe in it.  This makes it different from religion.  It is heavily slanted to “what works” as opposed to religion which is held to, irrespective of results.

hevelius_telescope

But the productive nature of science does not make it “fact” or the sum total of “truth”.  It remains models and assumptions that reside in our minds.  Pictures of how we see our external world.

Science is a ghost.  As in the middle ages, we ridicule those who do not bow down to this god.

However, effective and productive models extend beyond science.

There is a magical place of existence.  Outside the confines of religion or the cause-and-effect ghost of science, there is a magical place where dragons roams free.  Seagulls impart wisdom.  Snakes, leopards and archangels lead us to a full experience of ourselves and ancients watch over our comings and goings.

the-holy-ghost

This is a world where one finds the wonder of concentrated energy and universal consciousness.

Mental, emotional and physical energy are unified and focused in the most dramatic way.  The reality of the entire experience, so powerful that it transcends the mechanic’s known to us.

The mythology itself becomes category’s and post tags that powerfully senses and helps us to bring to the mental surface, things that we are aware off and normally lack the verbal or other communication tools to express.  But the fact that we lack the programming in our consciousness to express these does not mean that this world does not exist.

For example – dragons who are fighting wars around us, despite the fact that we believe all is going well are powerful messages from feedback loops feeding back to us that despite what our mind may tell us – all is not well.

Feedback loops may originate, not from within us, but from environments that we may not even be aware off.  In the mythology, one of these environments may be the “ancients”.  Powerful realities of consciousness with independent existence outside of us – feeding into us as opposed to feeding from us.

This means that the ancients exists independently and the fact that much of our lives are lived by agreement with them means that we are inseparably linked to them and to choices we have made before time began for us.

Social and other rules are derived from the existence and nature of these forces outside us and that we are apart of.  Contracts and democracy for example are not sociological human inventions.  They exist objectively as part of the fabric of the world around us.  They form part of a world of powerful feedback loops and links into us from the physical universe around us and we heed them, based on the composition of the world around us and not because we arbitrarily decided that civilization must be ordered around these concepts.  part of the universal consciousness that feeds into our beings.

The love of a man and a woman, for example is more than just a biological reality.  This is what sets us apart from animals with less developed mental abilities.  We are accountable to more than only biological instincts.  We are accountable to the consciousness of the universe itself and the structure of mental consciousness.

Trust, love, adventure, commitment – these are more than arbitrary human values.  These are building blocks of the universal consciousness in the same way that the periodic table represent the building blocks of the material universe known to us.

Biblical mythology represents a certain view of the nature of the universal consciousness.  In the same way as the flat earth cosmology of the ancients represented a view of the physical world – now outdated.

The problem is not with the imagery, but with what the biblical symbols represent.  We have to re-interpret them.  Give them a meaning and expression that is in line with realities that actually exist.

In fact, why re-interpret such entrenched symbolism.  Why not seek out our own symbolism that aptly fits the life path we are on?  The imagery that comes to us will focus and channel concentrated universal energy in a highly productive way for us.  In ways that religious symbols simply dont because for the most part they have in mind enslaving the individual and making him or her dependent where true cosmic energy liberates and create new constellations of being.

Fallen angels in the Biblical mythology are “bad”.  But who imparted “bad” to them.  From whose perspective?  If the story goes that angels tried to overthrow the dictator, were banished and called “fallen”, then I happily side with the fallen.  But if I choose them, Christians will say that I side with Satan against God and the entire set of imagery is wrong.  Satan is simply the “other” lord that can be served and who equally possesses and dictated to his followers in much the same way as God possesses and  dictated through the Holy Spirit and the Bible.

This calls for completely new imagery since even the biblical imagery of “fallen angels” completely misleads.  It does not represent cosmic consciousness or directed energy.

This mystical place of councils, constellation’s and concentrated energy gives powerful expression to the world of the universal consciousness.  Not a place separate from the physical universe.  NO!  This IS the physical universe!

This is where love is found.  Kingdoms build.  Where we walk as giants among men and fulfil contracts signed with the ancients.  Where our lives are not the aggregate of a series of coincidences, but where we are held accountable to be everything that the universe wants us to be.

Its here where i speak to my white witch.  where spells are cast and opposition’s minds changed.  the realm of universal consciousness and concentrated energy.

Where cities are subdued and where we find the passage to Ithaca.  where i love!

st petersburg

Here we sign agreements to shape tomorrow based on the visions and dreams of today!

I cast spells. I turn attitude.  I change the mindset of the elders of equilibria.  i worship the woman i love and my dream of ithace.

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 13: return of the gibbons

Cosmic consciousness connects awareness.  Directed energy changes reality.

The proof is phenomenalistic.  Being observed on a daily basis by millions.

The key to understanding these is “structure”.

Consciousness requires structure to express itself.  Our bodies pick up on various signals.  Cosmic consciousness feeds into our souls.  We need a structure for these feeds to express itself in our familiar mental world.

equalibria – city of how things used to be done”.  Im there with my fellow warrior.  Negotiating with city elders.  want to forge an alliance.  align city so that our reaching of ithaca serves the purposes of the city.

i am walking alone one night.  came from supper with one of the elders.  at his home we had pork fillet, cooked with spiced plums in red wine with potato rosti.

the fillet – wrap with bacon.  lightly rubbed with olive oil.  placed on a baking tray. Seasoned with salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Roasted for 20 minutes, turned once, until golden and slightly pink on the inside.

sumptuous meal, fit for a KING.

i appreciate equalibria for the first time.  deep respect for what took ages to develop.

farm 020

suddenly a feed from the universe.  small creatures with big eyes – scurrying on the walls around me.  moving at lightning speed. i realised – its the GIBBONS!

My heart pounded.

No dragons.  No war.  Only beautiful, graceful gibbons.

i laughed.

a gibbon ran up to me.  jumped on my shoulder.  played with my hair.

“what is your name?”, I asked.

“gabby”, the answer came.

GABBY!  Beautiful Gabriella!

I remember her.  luscious kiss.  soft touch.  directed energy that resonated from her hands at will.

beauty

i see structure.  the more structured, the better her connection.

my soul connects with the universal consciousness.  i see the future.  i taste the fruits of ithaca.  it sweet water.  its beaches of ecstasy. the sun that never sets.

i hear words that i can not repeat till i get there.

in the ritz hotel i drink beer with friends.  an accountant.  a farmer.  a geography teacher. a lady of 61 who can out-run a man of 24.  another lady with MS.

i feel the universe.  i see the gibbons.  the way to ithaca.

beautiful land

and gabby.  my beautiful gabby!

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 14: exceptional love

Alone.  In equalibria.  City of opposition  (so I thought).

Wanted to change city elders.

Instead,
it was I
who have changed.

painting on my wall.  Piano notes.  man and woman dancing.  energy.  quality.

no quality.  no life.

quality does not need abundance for the soul to flourish. a quality.  not things.

exceptional - leader6

remember where it started.  Building a stairway to the water.  Where she would meet the dragons and be given a pearl.

a story in quality.  wrapped in beauty.

exceptional2

The food and wine of this great city enchants me.  Traditions – developed over millennia.

exceptional3

walk streets of my city of enchantment.  Where princess and princesses are.

beautiful2

In the morning, I go to my forest of meditation – and I wait  . . .

my own soul to speak and reveal great treasures.   it reveals quality.

beautiful3

i go home.  see the sunset.

beautiful4

at night I dream of my immortal-beloved.  has build the world in brilliance!  who cast spells in love.  and quality.

beautiful

sleeping or awake.  i love . . .

(- today was remarkable  -  i am deeply thankful! -)

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 15: courage

i left equalibria. to think.

every day I climb my mountain of solitude.  now in equalibria.  where i meditate.

this morning – a few clouds.  heavy weather moved in.  pouring rain.

i have companions climbing with me.

oscar.  an excellent managing director of our dreams.  energy.  insight.  structure.

will – our sales manager.  initiative.  systems thinking.  vision.

anoton and profert – supporting our efforts with whatever logistics’ required.

gary – world class manufacturing.  dedication and analytical thinking.

piet – best pork producer in the country.

i can develop business strategy at my hearts content.  feed ideas into the woodys machine.

f(x) = ax2 + bx + c

f is any plan.  fed into x.  x is the woodys machine.  ax2 + bx + c – the exponential result.

the machine x  had to be structured according to certain internal rules.  one of the rules is that all owners have to be involved.  materially contribute to changing the result from linear to exponential.

the environment is rugged.  the result produced by the x-machine must also be stable. able to stand in a harsh environment.  all x must contribute to this.

on the mountain – i think about the challenges ahead.  oscar calls me.  we briefly speak.  we affirm our belief in the strategy to reach ithaca!  aligning equalibria behind the team and then develop world class thinking and strategies to get us to our goals. new!

(personal choices.  leaving my home.  moving on.  taking only my kids along.  swim through my mind)

with me on the mountain – a youth group.  i passed them towards the end.

i rest for a second – catch my breath.

Image2959

behind me, in the distance – through rain and fog – beautiful voices drift towards me.  the leader of the youth group – in a beautiful tenor voice.  the kids join in.

im not a christian.  have not been one for many years.

but as i hear the words i stop.  goosebumps.  not the cold.  the song.  the words so appropriate as the kids battle slippery rocks, pouring rain and gale force wind.

still they sing.  with confidence.

I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I’m onward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”

the words echoed through my soul.  i think about the fierceness of the struggle.  the many battles.  every day.  the finality of every major challenge before us.  what is at steak.  the public nature of our quest.  criticism from every quarter.

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where those abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.

i think of the cost to me personally.  the people i had to leave behind.  whom i realised could not come along.  i can not pursue excellence in only one area of my life.  its all or nothing.   had to abandon all positions of compromise.  no matter how dearly beloved these were.  no matter how much “leaving” hurts . . . .

I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till Heav’n I’ve found,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”

Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

in the end, the entire team must be in the arena.  feel the same heat.  fire.  wind.  face the challenges with the same resolve.

i no longer pray for a “being” to plant my feet.  No “lord” whom i hold responsible for my destiny.  it is mine!  and mine alone!

i direct the words to my own spirit.  my soul.  who i am.  rooted in the knowledge that in the end, there is only one who can account for my actions – myself.  only one to look to for salvation.  me.

my mind drifts.  across the great african land.  across spain and the majestic Pyranees.  to france.  years earlier.

i hear Theodore Roosevelt.

THE MAN IN THE ARENA
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

many aspects of the quest remains tentative.  many aspects of my life – the same. values cement.  resolve elevates values.  and around me in the arena – my friends.  our team.

i will never give up!

we will never give up!

when i get back. . .  i sleep.  and i dream!

of Ithaca.  and my beautiful princess!

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 16: home

Easter 2011.  on my way to ithaca.  from my mountain of enlightenment.  here, at the southernmost tip of africa, life transforms.

fought our way to city of equalibria.  where ancient forces hold sway.

this week-end constellations moved.  mid-point between 13 april and 20 may.

transition from chaos and order.  temporal to eternal.  doubt to clarity.  experience of “now” to quality.

Image2966

i inhabit a quite space.  i achieve perfection.  i become a god.  then i bend down and pick up a pebble.  a small rock from the pool of “forever”.  I shape it.  hold it in my hands.

it becomes a pearl.

i then look up across the vastness of time.  i call her name.  our souls meet and dance across endless galaxy’s.

back in equalibria.  my space of balance.  my habitation of quality.

eben army1

my spirit is – adventurer.  soldier of fortune.

i walk to the altar of being “me”.  these are very personal moments.

i acknowledge the role it had in my life.  as i do, i remove my weapons.  my spirit that never rests.  i lay it before my eternal self.

equalibria taught me.

elders equipped me.

my love empowered me.

i changed.  from a nomad to a leader.  a father.  a brother.  a friend.  a companion.

Image2871

i do not have to send the “nomad spirit” away.  michael watches as it leaves.

i feel every molecule in my body shifts.  towards new goals.

i will leave equalibria.  not for a mythical land of ithaca.  no.  i will leave to construct.  build upon all that equalibria has taught me. all that ithaca has promised to be.  with the passion of a nomad-hunter-adventurer-traveler.

my home – no longer a tent.  i will build.  a house with fixed foundations.  my own city of being my new self.

where my ship will not sail from to explore any longer.  when it leaves, it will always return.

choices to get to this point has been hard.  a life!

dancing

suddenly i am dancing.  not across the pyrenees.

dancing in my living room.

with my eternal beloved.

i close my eyes and realise.

.   .   .   .   its all very good!

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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eben and tristan

Tristan and Eben

eben and tristan sing the following

eben and tristan sing and
all giant monsters purr in empathy.
that nasty weather coming over for tea
decided to relax, as
long as it doesn’t need to do the dishes.
tristan juggles universes
eben does magic
another day in the huge world sandbox
eben and tristan sing
and their notes become planets
and on these planets
you can have a mighty fine
time

scott wannberg

Tristan and Eben2

Tristan van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 17: the pearl – Part 1

solar morning

suns rise majestically over a trillion planets in an infinite universe.  countless mornings in a sea of realities.

atoms connect.  a low rumbling noise pulsates through the universe.  each echo announces that it has arrived -

life!

on one of these planets a man wakes up to a new realisation.  no longer on his way to ithaca.  an enchanted land somewhere that must be reached.

converted from being a soldier to being an architect.  of his city of dreams.

the earth’s sun thaws his semi frozen hands.  light –  the exact nanosecond to reach him as he glides through space.

he suddenly slips from one world to the next.

beneath him are rivers.  hills.  mountain ranges where shepherds meet monks in rock temples.  constructed on 4000m high peaks.

the white noise. . . murmur of the universe, pulses in his ears.  he smiles.

how does the newly hatched sea turtle know to make it to the sea?

sea snake

a sea snake mother dives down into the depth of the ocean.  through a tunnel.  to an underwater cave with air.  lies her  eggs.  safe from sea and land predators.  then she leaves.

when the eggs hatch 6 months later. . . how do the bay’s know how to swim through the tunnel to get to open sea?

it is unmistaken.  some learning happens pre-natal.  passed on through mechanisms  . . . yet to be described.

but they exist. . . .

suddenly i swoop upwards.  no cognitive reason why.  i just do.  “reason” become “purpose”.  Like the sea snake and the sea turtle.  i do what i have been destined for.

star being born

i am in outer space.  between stars being born.  between what life knows best. . .

create!

i reach into a nebula.  i scoop up a few morsels of fine gold dust.  form these into tiny leaves.  clutching in my left hand.

then i dive.  down.  through space-time.  to earth.

i plunge into the deepest ocean.  deeper.  deeper.  till i reach a crack in the ocean floor where a mussel has deposited a tiny pearl.

one that will grow over time.  a dragons pearl.

one that Michel and the dragon asked me to hand to her.

i hold it in my right hand.

i fly to mount Olympus where i find myself a rock. . . once mistaken for a baby.  i sit on the rock.  carefully joining the leaves of gold and the dragons-pearl.  forging it with my own bear hands.

i wait till sunset.

when seagulls return to their young ones to rest.  when the sea lions crawl back onto land after frolicking in the waves all day.  when an orange blanket is pulled over a dark continent.  when drums begin to beat as husbands return from the hunt and woman and prepare food for the family.  a traditional land where emancipation must still become.

somehow “primitive enchants”.

there, in the temple of gaia i see her.  her perfect form.  her beautiful breasts.  her soft hair.  her hands that she uses to cast spells.  her penetrating eyes.  her swift feet.  her indomitable soul.

carefully i approach.  to the marble slab in front of the temple.

removing the charm that was created. . .  i put it on the holy stone.

for her.

electricity surge through me.  i fly.  higher and higher.  ever higher.  running my fingers through dark matter.  bursting through constellations.

and in the kingdom of “magical”, a princess picks up a few small leaves of gold.
life exist.  forged through struggle. plucked from the heavens that spans all existence.

and created by great pressure.  time and dragons.

a small pearl.

. . . .

for a princess.

(written on a flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg – 19/5/2011; it is significant)

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 17: the pearl – Part 2

smile.  standing on cliff on mount Olympus.

around me – 24 ancients.  we sign a contract.  create what has never been.  infuse gaia with “purpose”.

“i accept”

then fall backwards.  into space.

soul speaks new word:

“b  e  a  u  t  y”

!Create beauty!  !purpose of gaia!

they ask what is “beauty”.  24 elders – excited. perplexed.  anticipating.  wait for my answer.

i – falling.  eternal ether.  space-time.

shutting my eyes. . . soul sees.

connect with constellations to the furthest corner of everything.   (strings reach out from all matter at the direction of the ancients and touch my soul.)

connects.  anticipating ”purpose” of everything.

my soul sees none of this.  it is alone.  alone.  alone.  at peace.  morph.  mutates. mandates.  defines.  imparts.  directs.

in a quite place called “peace”; under a canopy called “self”; in ether that flows through the ancients, i see “beauty” and I speak-defines-imparts meaning:

“my princess, sitting on pure, pure, purified marble.

on maple, maple, maple sweet greenery.

in crystal, crystal, crisp crystal reality.”

her eyes are pools of mystery in a sea of wonder.  eyes i can gaze into forever.

ancients see this and for the first time understand beauty and make. . .

(somewhere in the universe, for the first time ever,  a glorious sun sets and a human sees it and says:  wow, this is beautiful)

beauty - pamukkale-1

her hair – soft and gentle and a light, light, lighter than feather breeze plays with it.

(and somewhere in the universe, for the first time ever,  wind finds a tree to play in, according to the pattern of my soul.  and the vision of my princess.  and ancients call it “beautiful”.)

beauty 9

when she cries, even her tears are small diamonds, created by years of “being”.  containing in them – sadness of all of existence.  and my soul sees and declares:  she is so beautiful.

(a seal darts through water, in oceans and seas that will from this day on be called “beautiful” according to the pattern of her being)

beauty 2

when the sun sets her entire body continues to enchant.  every sound of her soft voice, the smell of her skin, the sensation on my lips as i kiss her. . .  “beautiful”.

(a billion suns in unending galaxy’s viewed from trillions upon trillions and unending upon unending planets, set and from that day on and is called “beautiful”)

beauty 4

her mind contains perfect shapes.  superfluous rules of logic that great men will fall in love with.  Einstein, Archimedes,  Plato, Bohr – in love with her logic, not realising that they are in love with her.  Her mind. . . beautiful!

beauty 6

Life now continue. Wit a pattern and a purpose.  It would never cease.  In everything there will be unimaginable beauty.

From now on the purpose of gaia.  according to the supreme pattern of my princess.

she.

gaia. . . a derivative of supreme beauty. . .

at the will of the elders

which my soul beheld

beauty 8

in her hand she holds a few tiny leaves of gold, and a pearl . . .

in her soul, wisdom, unending

in her body, perfection, eternal

beauty 7

the ancients named her:  Ishare**

I call her:  perfection of beauty

(it was evening and
it was morning,
the 20st day,
of May,
2011)

(I wrote this somewhere over the vast Karoo, at the southernmost tip of this great land.  this is significant – 10 minutes to landing)

**  Ishara (išḫara) is the Hittite word for “treaty, binding promise”, also personified as agoddess of the oath.”

“As a goddess, Ishara could inflict severe bodily penalties to oathbreakers, in particular ascites (see Hittite military oath). In this context, she came to be seen as a “goddess of medicine” whose pity was invoked in case of illness. There was even a verb, isharis- ”to be afflicted by the illness of Ishara”.

“Her main epithet was belet rame, lady of love. . .”

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 18: to fly

western cape

my spirit is calm.  my soul rests.  my wondering eyes glide over winter waves that wash against this great land.

elders of the city of equalibria taught me – ithaca is a myth.  odysseus – a legend.

i have to build my own land.  home of my destiny.

Cape Point

i love this cape land of storms.  beautiful cape.  fair cape.  cape of hope and destiny.

at the shores of great oceans.  then indian.  then atlantic.   with my fellow warrior.  comrade-in-arms.

from a far dimension of existence, ancients speak to me.  They explain great mysteries.

only constant in life is energy.  they are energy.

energy that existed from before the big bang.  energy formed things.  things combined and at some point, a threshold event took place.  changed the elements into something far more than the sum of their constituent parts.  They say:

threshold events change chemicals into a living person.  The chemicals are not alive, but after the threshold event – life.

consciousness appeared after certain threshold events.  consciousness now is more than and different from neural activity in a brain.

I surmise that if this is so. . .  that threshold events transforms dead molecules into life and impersonal, neural waved flowing through billions upon billions of synapses, into consciousness. . . then. . .

in my life, events become threshold events.  transforming from one state of existence to the next.  i am more than the sum total of my past.

i connect with ancients.  i engineer in ether.  i find companionship with dragons and seagulls.

i dance with me my eternal, immortal beloved.

western cape flowers 3

my eyes behold coastlands.  cape of good hope.  hope of life.  dreams. reality.  a seagull.  taught me how to fly, before I knew the word “threshold events”.

I hear Munda’s voice, rolling over the great atlantic.  a song about the Gift Of The Seagull.

Munda celebrates my love for my seagull and the threshold event that transformed my being.

A lonely seagull flies the winds
Majestic… soaring…gliding wings
A single screech sounds from the sky
Come fly with me… come here and fly

My spirit floats to be a part
I feel the beating of its heart
My soul, one with this bird of sea
Now knows the meaning to fly free

I feel the winds caress my soul
And soar the streams without a goal
My being trembles of delight
A treasure I received tonight

The seagull’s flight of soaring high
The gift of what it means to fly

cape point 2

i find myself a spot.  to build my city.

where i can construct according to my own soul.

where i can be alone with my memories.  where my companions will be my dragons.  chopin and bach – my rising song and in the evening, my chemical romance.

where i can create in ether and commune with my beloved.  even if its only in my dreams.

where i can watch a thousand sunsets while i hold council with the ancients.

where i can transcend in a million threshold events and reach nirvana.

home land

where i can always fly.

(i no longer search, i build)

Year of the Dragon by Eben van Tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 19: kairos

beauty 1.4

kairos.  the moment of truth.  the fullness of time (kairos).

i have my land staked off.  where i will build my house.

worked hard to have enough capital in “i” to afford it.  for three years.

no,  not three.  5 years.

no, not five.  9!

since i lost Millennium Marketing in 2002 – took me 9 years to get to this point.

its freezing cold tonight.  in rural south africa.  i finish the Old Brown Sherry.  A green bottle of Boplaas Muscadel keeps me company.

alone.  oscar and trudie –  a prize giving for megan.

this morning on the flight to lanseria i read from AC Graylind’s “Descartes”:

Descartes speaks:

“as soon as I was old enough to emerge from the cotrol of my teachers, I entirely abandoned the study of letters.  Resolving to seek no knowledge other than that which could be found in myself or else in the great book of the world, I spent the rest of my youth travelling, visiting courts and armies, mixing with people of diverse temperaments and ranks, gathering various experiences, testing myself in the situations which fortune offered me, and at all times reflecting on whatever came my way so as to derive some profit from it”

i – reflect

beauty 1.1

true wisdom is found in ourselves.  salvation.  revelation.

when i was 21 – leaving the army – one and only question/ quest/ goal/  – is there a god?

my all – devoted to this.  supreme presupposition:  GOD “?”

in infinite wisdom, gaia spoke.  from deep inside my being, my soul gave counsel.  majestic cliffs taught me eternal wisdom.

i looked, beheld and became. . .

but . . . it was never ONLY god.  started many studies.  majoring in applied mathematics, chemistry, accounting.  after second year . . . when most of the broad theories have been explained i would loose interest.  dash off to the world for my own experiments.  wanted to discover truth myself!  remember how I made the same wager with my soul:  ”if you get it wrong, you are only to blame yourself!”

contemplating god became the springboard to investigate the most salient matters of human behavior.  the functioning of the mind.  consciousness.  why we believe the things we hold dear.  why build brands.  why we love . . .

this was my life.  from birth to age 37

i wrote my thesis on god, while i climbed table mountain.  worked in johannesburg.  the anatomy of a skeptic.

it was done.

but conclusions about god robbed me of my “magic”.  left me with a cold mechanical cause and effect universe.

i desperately searched for a new future.  my next quest.  for magic!

in a beautiful garden i found this one day.

beauty1.1

rather . . .  it found me!    a dragon and a seagull.

at first i thought i would aim for Ithaca.  Magical kingdom of Odysseus. Object of the greatest adventure ever.

deep in myself i discovered this was wrong!  as magic returned to my life. thawing iced over glaciers . . .  formed over scars.  which grew over wounds.  inflicted by the god-search.  ice was melting.  at 40 one can be reborn.

ones destiny is always far greater than the greatest story ever told.  if we seek/ welcome it.

“in my most favourite spot in all the world – i will build a home.”

this morning,

(on a flight)

at 37 000 feet,
Rene Descartes encouraged
-his own reason for building
his own theorems.  inspired!  resonated with my quest.  commitments i made when i was 20!

“For it seemed to me that much more truth could be found in the reasoning’s which a man makes concerning matters that concern him than in those which some scholar makes in his study about speculative matters.  For the consequences of the former will soon punish the man if he judges wrongly, whereas the latter have no practical consequence and no importance for the scholar except that perhaps the further they are from common sense the more pride will he take in them, since he will have had to use much more skill and ingenuity in trying to render them plausible”

beauty 1.3

my soul, being transported to my magical garden rested.  no Rene.  not just “more truth”, but “more purpose”.  “more beauty”.  “more being”.

magic!

tomorrow, “purpose” for me and my loved ones – will take on new form.  greater.  will be different to what it has been till today.  that i know.

and yet, i know for certain:
i build a home.

beauty 1.11

i love

(a princess)
(a god)

30 May 2011

I small bird flew down from the mountain of revelation and asked me:  ”eben, are you content?”

“No”, i replied.

“I have the greatest two kids whom gives me greater pleasure than I knew existed. “

“I have a very few of the greatest and closest friends on earth.  They would feel nothing to sms or mail me at 11:00, on a cold night and tell me about wars they fight out there.  The best friends!”

“The greatest friends ever!”

“Not content”, i said.

“unspeakably happy!”

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 20: my dream of last night

engineering in ether.  building in complications.  constructing.

Sunday night.  excitement of “tomorrow”.  energy!

(Last night I’ve met a beautiful woman.  I can easily ask her out.  i dont wonder.  i dont!)

i smile.  interesting when you meet interesting.  beautiful.

“its very, very clever how it works, ne!”

its cold.

dream 6

dreamlands swallow me whole.

mist outside.

warm inside.

in the castle its warm.  the red wine – sweet.

dream 2

i walk through millions of eternal lights.  i see the future.

in my dream – confused.

unending fields of light surround – beautiful faces – swim through mind.  sing songs,

but the words. . .   I cant hear them.

the melody.  it dances.  but . . . i cant hum it.

cosiness embraces.

why am i so comfortable with confusion?

dream 5

then i see her.  recognition raptures.  instinct responds.

(behold source of my comfort – eye to eye)

mindless rumbling, ringing, ringing, ringelingling . . .

why do i hear the song . .  so suddenly.  clearly?

and other faces are no more.

dream 3

we connect.  both of us.

both.

of us.

and her.

and me.

and we remember.  remembrance.

dream 4

we talk about him.  and his dad.  our friends.  billions of faceless shadows of unending light that surrounds us.  sing.  we sing.  harmonise.  our own song.  our own harmonious baseline-melody!

we sing May Swenson’s ballade . . .

It must be
there walks somewhere in the world
another
another namely like me

Not twin
but opposite
as my two hands are opposite

Where are you
my symmetrical companion?

Do you inhabit
the featureless fog
of the future?
Are you sprinting
from the shadows of the past
to overtake me?
Or are you camouflaged
in the colored present?
Do I graze you every day
as yet immune to your touch
unaware of your scent
inert under your glance?

Come to me
Whisper your name
I will know you instantly
by a passport
decipherable to ourselves alone

We shall walk uniformed
in our secret
We shall be a single reversable cloak
lined with light within
furred with dark without

Nothing shall be forbidden us
All bars shall fall before us
Even the past shall be lit behind us
and seen to have led
like two predestined corridors
to the vestibule of our meeting

We shall be two daring acrobats
above the staring faces
framed in wheels of light
visible to millions
yet revealed only to each other
in the tiny circular mirrors
of our pupils

We shall climb together
up the frail ladders
balancing on slender
but steel-strong thongs of faith
When you leap
my hands will be surely there
at he arc’s limit
We shall synchronize
each step of the dance upon the wire
We shall not fall
as long as our gaze is not severed

Where are you
my symmetrical companion?

Until I find you
my mouth is locked
my heart is numb
my mind unlit
my limbs unjoined

I am a marionette
doubled yp in a dark trunk
a dancer frozen
in catatonic sleep
a statue locked
in the stone

a Lazarus wrapped
in the swadling strips
not of death
but of unborn life

a melody bound
in the strings of the viol
a torrent imprisoned
in ice
a flame
in the coal
a jewel hidden
in a block of lava

Come release me
Without you I do not yet exist

we sing and know.  a deep knowing.

i want to touch her face.  grab her hand.  hold her close to me.  but i dont!  cant take what has not been given.  cant release what is locked.

she gets up.

i let her go.

and i return to my mountain of solitude from where i can see the entire world.

beautiful 7

she – to an island where i cant be.  and she is!

beautiful 9

then, she returns.  between 5:00 a.m. and 6 a.m.  leans over me.  one kiss. and i

smile.  unspeakably happy.

my eternal, immortal beloved.

my best friend.

beautiful land

in the day i fight a war of absolution.

at night . . . i worship my lunar beloved!

(in the brilliance of the sun, all starlight fades)

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 21: when the moon rises

Late night in Cape Town.  I smell the sea.  Wind howls through crevices and cracks. . .   corners through gutters.  winter storms.

powerful sea currents smash against an ancient land.

In my two bedroom apartment I open a bottle “barrel select Merlot”.  Raka.  Limited edition.  One of only a few bottled.  i taste the earth.  pepper.

I sit at the dining room table by the big window.

Laurika sings her most beautiful ballades. . . .

JY’T GESÊ ONS LIEFDE SAL BLY STAAN
AL TUIMEL AL DIE BERGE IN DIE OSEAAN
DOEN VIR MY ‘N GUNSIE VOOR JY GAAN

. . . .

GOOI VIR MY ‘N KLIPPIE
‘N KLIPPIE IN DIE OSEAAN

i have missed the point about transition moments.  it is our challenges which build up to transition moments.  defines.

when we carve out an existence in rock hard african clay with bear hands; when blood has mixed with clay – clay becomes blood soaked mud . . . then transition moments occur. . .

propel us to a higher ground.

create new “us/ me”.

the moment when sorrow – pregnant with hardship – drenched with confusion – gives birth to “purpose” and “hope” and “reason” . . .

these are our transition moments.  when our spirits loose the bods of earth.  soars.  and touch the face of god!

facing challenges 3

the wine is enough.  laurika sings. . .

WIE SAL OOIT DIE LIEFDE KAN VERSTAAN?
NADER AS ‘N HARTKLOP, VERDER AS DIE MAAN
DAAR IS ‘N TYD VAN KOM, EN ‘N TYD VAN GAAN
DIT HET EK GELEES MAAR
HOE SAL EK DIT OOIT VERSTAAN?

EN KYK HOE SAK DIE SEKELMAAN
IN DIE STILLE OSEAAN
STILLE WATERS DIEPE GROND
ONDER DRAAI DIE DUIWEL
ONDER DRAAI DIE DUIWEL ROND

(one day I must translate this. . .  but not today)

if divorce hold the mirror of ourselves up to our beings.  reveal fault lines of our soul . . . leaving ones love becomes the foundation of a new “me” and “you”.  how can this be “wrong” when we were wrong for so long?

every fight. . .  not a purpose in itself.  building foundations.  edging us on to that one moment.  transition.  where we morph and become . . . “better”.  separate now.  but “better”.

we will laugh again.

facing challenges 2

the wind outside  . . .  storm winds become a melody.  over the course of years it took my heart and smashed it into a million pieces against cape sandstone.

the same wind gathered it again so that old and forgotten friends could find it.  intact.

and as for fortune, and as for fame. . . i never invited them in.  they are illusions.  the answer were inside me all the time.

a transition moment springs hope eternal.  and as my soul glides across the fairest cape point. . .

no longer asks “why”.

in my flight i run my fingers across the granite base of the cape mountains.  god. god!

MISKIEN IS LIEFDE NET ‘N FANTASIE
DIS NIE ALLES MAANSKYN EN ROSE NIE
JY WAS VIR ‘N RUKKIE AAN MY SY
WAS JY NET ‘N BIETJIE
NET ‘N BIETJIE LIEF VIR MY

(i know she is)

lack of concentration with my little girl leads to decisive intervention.  every tantrum.  every angry moment builds up to despair?   NEVER!

BUILD UP TO HOPE!  TO A BETTER HER!  FUTURE – BRIGHTER!  MORE ALIVE!  MORE. . .  HOPEFUL!  BETTER!

a crisis ignited the powder keg of past struggles.  becomes the explosion.  big bang that creates the new universe of a better existence for a little girl.

Come listen to me my child.  In every-day-language I will tell you a love story.  about a volcano that can brighten up a night.  a man that can love a seagull.  find a dragon.

facing challenges 4

MISKIEN IS DAAR ‘N PLEK VIR ONS TWEE SAAM
ANDERKANT DIE BERGE VAN DIE MAAN
EN AS DIE MAAN WEER OPKOM SAL EK ONTHOU
EK WAS VIR ‘N RUKKIE
OOK ‘N BIETJIE LIEF VIR JOU

(why am i holding back tears . . . it is emotional)

My boy  . . . every tear.  every anguish.  one morning i got up and realised you became a prince!

hope spring eternal from the darkest moments of our existence.  the darkest night become the transition for “better”.

facing challenges 5

the wind grabs a window in my small home.  slams it against a metal frame.

i see how every day. . .  every week. . .  moments were necessary to learn.  forces bigger than I equipped me and us for battles in our small business which we never saw coming.  decisive moments building up to a transition moment.  after which we will stand amazed. looking back and say. . .  “it was all good!”

even cancer in friends and loved ones no longer scares me.  i turn my face to the east from where I welcome the sun every morning.  thanking gaia for that new day.  just that one day. and tomorrow?  well, we deal with it when it comes.

at night i drink wine and listen to beautiful youtube playlists created by the phoenix after she morphed.  powerfully reborn.

the biggest failures of my life makes me strong.  who I am today.  set me up for the brilliance of tomorrow!

I was cleaning out the home when she moved out.  found the watch my partner gave me when we did our first million in Millennium Marketing.  I threw it away.  After the bags were taken down, on the floor, was left  . . . a watch.  it fell out of the bag.

this morning i looked at it.  Donovan gave it to me at the end of 1998.  EXACTLY 10 years afterwards, November 2008 I would start Woodys Bacon.

two of the intervening years I moved back in with my mother.  Me and my family.  its done.  my mom, now sick with Alzheimer’s cant remember to go to the bathroom. . . . i miss Vanderbijlpark and her food!  living there for 2 years was a privileged!  for all of us.

i used to belong to a tight knit church.  grew up with the members.  best friends.  only friends.  we left the church after i lost the business.  13 years ago.  was to much for god to handle.  this week i’ve sent all my old friends a “friend request” on facebook.  some are godparents to my kids.  Of approximately 35 people, only 1 responded.

When I was 12, in 1979, 30 years ago, I gave a speech at school that one classmate remembers to this day.  Who reacquainted and became my best friend.

she fights daemons and cancer.  and I think to myself. . .  im glad none of those old church friends responded.  for the first time i am really happy.  if i compare it with the very few but very personal friendships i have now. . . .

i am not the boy i was at 12.  or 18.  or 30.

like lauren, and tristan, and even julie. . .  i am a new person.  but its not just i who change.  they also change.  they morph.

i wake up every morning.  excited about that day.  in the end i will die.

soon, all memories and images make way.  in my mind i hold my eternal beloved.  i kiss her on the cheeks as i wrap my arms around her.

EN AS DIE MAAN WEER OPKOM SAL EK ONTHOU
EK WAS VIR ‘N RUKKIE
OOK ‘N BIETJIE LIEF VIR JOU

we no longer talk much.  we dont have to.

still, at night, when the wind howls around every corner and through every crack of my heart . . .  when im sitting alone at my dining room table and cement life lessons as i write. . .

every night. . .

we listen to Beethoven

and tears run down my face  when i commune with me immortal beloved.  tears of immense joy.

and over the Atlantic, a moon rises. . .

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My travels: Ashoka Pillars

2008 – the hanging gardens of bombay.  enchanted.

hanging gardens, bombay

i see an enigmatic column.   I take two pictures.   wonder . . . what is the significance?

Ashoka Pillars

back home i try and find the origin and meaning of the columns.  no joy.

search the internet.  no joy.

later i learned i was using the wrong words in my many searches.

Life continued.  I tried a few more times to find the history of the columns, but still – no joy.

Last week I attended my first ever Facebook invited event.  A performance by Belinda Metlitzky Silbert.

A cold and rainy night became magical at the Theatre in the Muze in Muizenburg, Cape Town.  I documented some of it in cell pictures:

That evening I posted it on Facebook.  A friend of Belinda, a storekeeper at Abu Dhabi national paper mil, Toushif Mulla, commented on my pictures.  His profile picture immediately caught my eye:

ashoka picture

Toushif is from Bombay and I was confident that he would be able to give me the background.  He did not, but my interest was renewed and I was sure that the column would be significant.  This is India after all and EVERY image over there is significant!

I posed my question online on Facebook and Indrani Vidyarthi came through with the background.

“The Ashoka pillars and the lion capitols atop them were commissioned by the Buddhist Emperor Ashoka. There is nothing random about any of the details on the sculpture. The four lions, the inverted lotus, the friezes at the base of the lions with reliefs of the animals – elephant, horse, bull and lion – and the chariot wheels, each image has potent symbolism in Buddhist iconography.”

She refers me to a website on Buddhist symbolism.

“The Lion is one of Buddhism’s most potent symbols. Traditionally, the lion is associated with regality, strength and power. It is therefore an appropriate symbol for the Buddha who tradition has it was a royal prince. The Buddha’s teachings are sometimes referred to as the ‘Lion’s Roar’, again indicative of their strength and power.

The image . . . .shows a capital from a pillar of Asoka: the Lions of Sarnath. Sarnath is where the Buddha first preached, and these lions echo his teachings to the four quarters of the world, sometimes called ‘the Lion’s Roar’. The wheel symbolizes Buddhist law and also Asoka’s legitimacy as an enlightened ruler.

Below is a photo from the Ashoka pillars in Deli.  EXACTLY the same as the pillars in Bombay.

ashoka pilar in delhi

Some of these Stupas contained networks of walls containing the hub spokes and rim of a wheel, while others contained interior walls in a swastika shape. The wheel represents the sun, time, and Buddhist law (the wheel of law, or dharmachakra), while the swastika stands for the cosmic dance around a fixed center and guards against evil

I did not see the swastika shape, but I remember, outside the hanging gardens I visited a temple.

temple outside the hanging gardens

Inside I found a woman making a swastika with rice.

swatstika

woman - swastica

Below is another picture that I took in Bombay.

ashoka pillar 2

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashoka writes the following about Ashoka:

Ashoka (Devanāgarī: अशोक, Bangla: অশোক, IAST: Aśoka, IPA: [aˈɕoːkə], ca. 304–232 BC), popularly known as Ashoka the Great, was an Indian emperor of the Maurya Dynasty who ruled almost all of the Indian subcontinent from ca. 269 BC to 232 BC.[1]

One of India’s greatest emperors, Ashoka reigned over most of present-day India after a number of military conquests. His empire stretched from present-day Pakistan, Afghanistan and eastern parts of Iran in the west, to the present-day Bangladesh and the Indian state of Assam in the east, and as far south as northern Kerala and Andhra Pradesh. He conquered the kingdom namedKalinga, which no one in his dynasty had conquered starting from Chandragupta Maurya. His reign was headquartered in Magadha (present-day Bihar, India).

He embraced Buddhism from the prevalent Brahminism tradition after witnessing the mass deaths of the war of Kalinga, which he himself had waged out of a desire for conquest. He was later dedicated to the propagation of Buddhism across Asia and established monuments marking several significant sites in the life of Gautama Buddha. Ashoka was a devotee of ahimsa(nonviolence), love, truth, tolerance and vegetarianism. Ashoka is remembered in history as aphilanthropic administrator. In the history of India, Ashoka is referred to as SamraatChakravartin Ashoka – the Emperor of Emperors Ashoka.

Ashoka played a critical role in helping make Buddhism a world religion.[2] As the peace-loving ruler of one of the world’s largest, richest and most powerful multi-ethnic states, he is considered an exemplary ruler, who tried to put into practice a secular state ethic of non-violence. The emblem of the modern Republic of India is an adaptation of the Lion Capital of Ashoka.

Much more remains to be understood.

 

ashoka pillar 3

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 22 (b): Ashoka I am

earth

across the vastness of everything,

sunrise.

about the place of symbols and mythology.  how the human mind seeks powerful language.  symbols that express the soul.  hooks to hang thoughts/communication/ concepts on.  models that we can manipulate and do “what-if analyses”.

when i climb table mountain, i speak to dragons.  mental images – tools!

Ashoka and his council of lion, elephant, bull and horse.  Become my council.  Mythology which i learn from.

– important, only as long as they serve ME/YOU.

I/ WE

tools to unlock powers in me/ YOU.

could have used psychology.  scientific terms to describe elastic memory; transition events.  the interaction between chemicals and electric impulses in a brain that is infinitely powerful.

instead – i choose mythology.  more interesting.

mythology / science / psychology /  powerful, only because of us.  not because these have any objective existence apart from us and our mental world.

did the earth not develop before we understood the system that brought everything about?

Will reality not exist long after we are gone?

My immortal beloved.  Is she a real person?  Or a phantom?  A seagull?  A woman?  A witch?  A being from another planet?  Or a dream?

She is all the above and none of them.  She is and she has never been.  She is the mist of the morning.  The clouds on my mountain – here today and in a moment – gone.

Was she a dream?

Yes.  No.  Both.  Maybe.  Potent potentiality that begins with a dream.

People who are not compatible on a deep and fundamental level should not be together.  People should make compromises for the sake of others.  Which one is it?  Like my immortal beloved – BOTH!

Where does my mythology end and reality begins?

The greatest reality begins with great stories.  Of a quest to find a ship and to face daemons.  To discover ones own heart.  When one’s dreams rise above the reality of ones existence.  When we become. . .  more!

a nightingale in Cape Town,  Belinda Silbertenchants.  A friend from Abu Dhabi responds.  reminds me of a pillar I saw in 2008 in the Hanging Gardens of Bombay.  This lead me to a king.  Ashoka.  Who warred against opponents.  200 000 died in one battle.  Adopted “non violence” as his crown.  Vowed to never war again when a woman told him he robbed her of a son, husband and father.

This king become my mentor.  Ashoka the Great!  And mythology teaches me.  Becomes my council.

ashoka pillar 2

elephant

horse

bull

lion

and an emperor.

elephant

above me. . .  i hear the seagull.  explaining.

“The elephant is a symbol of mental strenght. At the beginning of one’s practice the uncontrolled mind is symbolised by a grey elephant who can run wild any moment and destroy everything on his way. After practising dharma and taming one’s mind, the mind which is now brought under control is symbolised by a white elephant strong and powerful, who can be directed wherever one wishes and destroy all the obstacles on his way.”

Symbolism of Animals in Buddhism

horse

The horse is symbolic of energy and effort in the practice of dharma. It also symbolises the air or prana which runs through the channels of the body and is the vehicle of the mind.

In that sense we can quote a passage from one of Milarepa’s “Song of the galloping horse of a yogi.”

“In the mountain hermitage which is my body,
In temple of my breast
At the summit of the triangle of my heart,
The horse which is my mind flies like the wind”

“He gallops on the plains of great bliss.
If he persists, he will attain the rank of a victorious Buddha.
Going backward, he cuts the root of samsara.
Going forward he reaches the high land of buddhahood.
Astride such a horse, one attains the highest illumination”

[translated by Losang P. Lhalungpa]

The so called “Wind-Horse” symbolic of the mind the mind its vehicle the wind, can be ridden upon. That means that we have the possibility of controlling the mind and wind and guide it towards any direction and at any speed that we wish.

Symbolism of Animals in Buddhism

bull

Nandi means joyous.  Nandi the Bull is the vahana (vehicle) of Shiva. However in ancient times, there was worshipped the Lord of Joy (Nandikeshvara), who was depicted as a man with a bull’s head.

The bull is also the emblem of Adinath, the first Jain tirthankara.

In South India, on the north shore of the Cauvery, is the Hindu temple called Vallalar Koil that is sacred to Shiva as Sri Vadhanyeshwar.  At this shrine, Parvati his consort is called Gnanambika (Wisdom Mother.)  At this place is the shrine of a yogi, Sri Medha Dakshinamurti.  He is depicted under a banyan tree but somewhat surprisingly he is seated on Nandi, Shiva’s bull.

The bull, a symbol of male sexuality, is the driving force of attainment in many symbolic systems.  Consider Zeus, sky god of the Greeks who, in the form of a white bull, unrelentingly pursues Europa.  It may be that the prototype of that myth is the Indian cosmogony in which the First Being, Purusha, out of loneliness, splits into two aspects, male and female.  The female, aware that the two are brother and sister, out of shame assumes the form of a cow and flees her brother’s advances.  Accordingly, he becomes a bull, so she eludes him by becoming a mare.  No matter what form she assumes, he changes to correspond, and so all the various animals of creation are born.

Khandro

lion

The Lion is one of the most potent symbols. Traditionally, the lion is associated with legality, strength and power. It is therefore an appropriate symbol for the Buddha who tradition has it was a royal prince. The Buddha’s teachings are sometimes referred to as the ‘Lion’s Roar’, again indicative of their strength and power.

I meditate.

elephant

horse

bull

lion

Ashoka

I claim ancient symbols for myself.  i dont worship.  i dont think them to be what they are not.  i use these.

Ways through which I express myself.  Powerful symbols I learn from.

ashoka

I turn and next to me. . .  my immortal beloved.

before me. . .

the rest of my life!

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 23: the contract

All is quite.  a bit scared.  darkness.

we sit in a circle.  legs crossed.  firm floor.  when we speak – no echo.

an ancient declares:  “your purpose – to solve puzzles”

eber lake

“your parents and your country will be strict Calvinists.”  ”Every time you get back, you tell us that you could have figured ‘god’ out.”  “your request to go back into the christian tradition – granted.”  “you must figure this out.  from within the framework of human existence.  why people believe in god.  what true spirituality is.”

another ancient:  ”born and bread a Calvinist.  Will you overcome your ‘nurturing’s'?  break the bonds of your mental landscape?”

another ancient:  ”but, the purpose is not finding the truth about god.  the journey will prepare you for the biggest challenge of your life.  teach you the workings of the human mind.  and soul.  define the human matrix.  connect you to your spirit.”

i smile.

free state farm

an ancient:  “in your soul, we again place a desire to write.”

another ancient:  “tell your story”.

another ancient:  “tell our story”.

i nod.  it has been like this.  it will continue.  it worked well in the past.

an ancient looks sombre.  “this time round, eben, we will not give you good health again.  It distracts.  it will take doctors 25 years to figure out what is wrong.  You must focus on the puzzle.”

my heart sinks.  i saw children struggling.  how will it be.

an ancient looks me in the yes.  “you have always existed to figure things out.  last time it was newspapers. it taught you the importance of direct engagement with your clients.  this time its even more challenging. You will spend your life trying to solve it before your time is up.”

“can you put it together before your time is up?

another ancient:  ”its never about corn or newspapers or bacon.  its about evolving the overall system.  making it self sustaining.  right now it is self destructing”

“your life will be about four things:

. . . loving your kids.

. . . your friends.

. . . . figuring out the puzzle.”

an ancient interrupts:  “but will you be able to NOT see yourself as the saviour of friends and family?  will you yourself stop looking for one.  accept that each man/ woman/ child has in them all that they need.  each. . .  his and her own saviour.”

another:  “will you see the dichotomy of good and evil for what it is.  cultural phenomena, based on the nature of the particular collective mental grid from which they are observed.  wrongly leads to the concept of god and satan.”

another:  ”these are consequences of your link to US.  But they distract.  They are not real or relevant.  good and evil exists only in your mind.  they have no absolute existence.”

“evolving the system is the purpose of every sunrise.”

me:  “the dichotomy of good and evil is the last thing i am concerned about.”

“what is the 4th purpose of my being”

meditation

she is in the circle.

an ancient: “ah, life is never merely mechanical.  even evolution itself.  can never stand alone.  we feel.  we love.  we reach out and connect.  we long.  you can not solve puzzles for the sake of solving puzzles.  you love!”

another:  “yes.  it is her.  your eternal beloved.”

she:  “you hated war, my love.  from the day i met you during our last time on earth.  You were a handsome war photographer in Canada.”

“you invented the concept of posting newspapers on the farms.  delivering it on horseback.  the ‘post’.”

me:  “and you were involved in Christian Mysticism”

she:  “yes.  i looked into Mormonism.  You wrote all those articles against it. You were skeptical.  Not seeing that it was my quest to figure it out for myself.  It was my natural connection with the soul.  The fact that Mormonism came around and we lived in America. . .  my soul resonated and I confused it momentarily with spirit.  the previous time, it was an ancient religion in Spain.  the time before that, gods of the Mesopotamia.  for you it would be mysticism and the next time Calvinism.”

she smiles.

“after my death you became a believer in the afterlife and spirits. mr skeptic!”

me:  “like your mormonism – concepts that resonated and obscured my truth.”

wow

an ancient:  “truth is so much more ‘better’ than any religion could dream up.”

me:  “we know it to be true when we have council with you.”

“and this time?”

an ancient:  “this time she will practice dark and eastern arts.  but we grant her abilities never before given to any.  she will rule over the tools she uses.  wield them with perfection.  she will not bow before them.  she is the source of these legends.  her power is from her own soul.”

me:  “dont i know who she is?  will we. . . “

an ancient:  “the two of you . . . of course.  some things not even the ancients can prevent!”

the ancient smiles.  ”we do not want to prevent it.  It is the ultimate propose of everything”

another ancient:   “you two exist apart, but are connected.  remain two, but together. . . “

“of course both of you will go back”.

“for her, we have something very special.  she agreed to it.  she is your friend, lover and adviser to many. . .  to you too.  her being carries light.  she illuminates the path.”

“your love is already legendary.”  transcending time.  is eternity.”

“eben, you will know it is her when you feel it in your soul.  when her mere presence brings physical healing that surgeons can only do with operations.  when you tell her that she is the biggest enigma ever (and such she is).  more so than life itself.   you will happily spend eternity unraveling the riddle of her being.”

us

i hold her.  stroke her face.  look deep into her amazing-alert eyes.  her skin is soft.  her breath against my face.  i fall through countless galaxies.

i kiss her.  a long time.

then we went back.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 24: La

stormy Durban night.  fragments of my brain grope for recall. here I recognize an intersection. there – a building.  mostly . . .  nothing.

I stop at a coffee shop.  Eat a traditional Afrikaans dish that neither the black chef, nor the Indian manager knows how to prepare.

Never mind.  Brain rests.  I try and see Lauren tonight.

I get up and cross the galaxy.  to my garden of solitude.

“ah, perfect recall!”

Every, every, every thing goes quite.

La’tjie (add a “tjie” to show its not a big one, but small – afrikaans).

La’tjie comes to me where I sit on soft moss-grass. With an old broom stick she used to practice with.  and a trophy.

“daddy”, she says, embracing me.  we won.  champion of champions.

 

i calm her down.  she gets so very excited.  like her dad.  i look into her engaging eyes.  ”why did you win?”  ”ponder”.  ”why?”  ”the medal is great, but its the lesson that is eternal gold”.

La’tjie:

“a brilliant coach,
his assistant,
disciplined us,
supporting parents”

and a second lesson daddy:  ”that dreams come true”.

eben:  ”was that the total ‘it’?”  ”ask me this question again when you are older.  remember to ask.  the story is much more!”

“for now.  we celebrate.  you chose your own path through life.  never forget that.”

“Mathew came to you by the direction of time, chance and the great ones.  the rest was up to you.”

she gives me another big kiss.   “dream your own dreams daddy!  remember to have a brilliant coach.  without hair and a matching scarf.  and an assistant.   to make your dreams come true.”

La’tjie:  ”Fly to your dreams.  but plan the flight.  prepare.  experience.”

Then she plays in the rock pools. Tristan and Jean kicks a rugby ball. I smelled water. Grass. Flowers. Shampoo that the kids use and the eternal sea that i so love.

Out of the lush bush, a stallion appears.  Comes to the water.  Drinks.

a bull, a dragon and a lion.

Tonight a new moon will rise. For the ten thousands time.

Till all flows into one. The plan-purpose of Mathew inspires me. determination of my Lauren creates tidal waves of intent in my being.

After all this . . . . I sleep little.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 25: T

In the shadow-land between wake and sleep . . .  memory.  powerful.

last time i had this powerful recall was after my dad’s death.  total amnesia about the car accident.

back at my army base (two months later) – rushing a critically sick student to the field hospital in a Jeep.  As i pressed the brakes and the car slid on dirt road. . .  memory of me hitting the cars break moments before wheels hit rocks under sand and car flipped. two months ago.

nothing more.

tonight.  in shadow land. . .  a girl.  in front of a class.  we are very small.  her friends – laughing about something.  dont know what.

. . . i remember her smile.

pure.  innocent.

and her eyes.

that’s all.

like the eyes of Tristan.  searching for his buck.  his impala.  his dream. ->  alive.  pure.

first time ever he takes the 30-06.  attitude.  courage.  confidence.  my amazing boy!

he aims.

. . . . . .

on the way back.

i cant see us being at home.  it bugs me.  normally i picture the destination.  i taste, feel it.  till we get there.

this time. . .  nothing!

we drive at night.  tired after dreams have been fulfilled.

through the tunnel.  almost home.

roadworks.  road markings gone.  double lane.  suddenly . . . trucks coming from the front. full speed!

(traffic from the other side have been diverted onto our side and this is not marked).

split second to respond.  we miss the truck from the front with mm’s to spare. Tris is stunned by how close it was!  I am in a trance!

in my mind two roads split.  a vision that takes hold of me and drags my mind along!  my entire body – numb.

one road . . . T and I – critically injured.  Dont see how we would have survived.

the other. . .  our life continues. **

rebirth. ***

(**ancients tell me that this should have been the end.  it has always been the end.  as we agreed!  but they have decided to unilaterally change things. . . .  change destiny.)

(*** why?  because time and space is one fabric and the closer you are to the massive object, the  faster time passes. . .  the more and further you fly, the slower time ticks, ticks, ticks.)

the next – day i am back at my mountain.  first time in 3 months.  sick – for 3 months.  operation.  recovered.  what now?

now . . .  a new life.  new i.  new us.  new future.  so . . .  i climb!

NO!  I fly!

i sit and take pictures as crows dance before me.  close to the top.  (i ask her. . . )

aria display.  6 or 7 of them.

they swoop down and sit on the rocks, less than 2 m’s away from me.  then dart up in the sky in an amazing aria display.  I could head their wings flap.  up and up – till i could almost not see them and then. . . . swoop down.  powerful.  play.  I try and capture it with my cell phone.

then i’m there!  at the top.  last few steps.

in the end it all flows into one.  T flies!  He shoots!

“BANG!”

and I embrace her. . .  mesmerized by her beautiful smile and her eyes!

and we fly!

 

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 26: a letter

a railway line.  the sea.
its winter.

early morning coffee.  mountain of solitude and revelation.
my heart races.

i climb.  two birds come and visit.  they dont fly away.
we talk.

its below freezing point.  my cathedral is empty.  not even god.
wind folds me in ice.

i see a spot.  where wind will be still-er.
listen to my soul (in any event – my soul and i talk)

i nestle myself in.  wind.  rain.
i listen

gale force wind
soft is her breath. next to me.

mountain rock is hard and cold
gently i stroke her soft cheek, skin

ice water runs down rock face. onto my sleeve.
firm and soft are her lips. warm.

the place is harsh. trees – short and strong. animals fat and few.
a glass of wine, sitting om my lap, she faces me.

i look down at my legs. horribly under-dressed. goosebumps as heat drains from my tired body.
words her soul speaks. i hear her soft, gentle voice.

i say to soul . . . “dont tell me what she says.” i know.

in my mountain of solitude.
in a fierce storm.
i hold my immortal beloved.
and dance across table mountain and the eternal ocean.
while my soul dictates a letter,

to my eternal beloved.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 26: b

i must catch a flight to Durban. Stop at the doctor. Open a parcel – just received. (I take a step back – have not expected this. forgot all about them.)

Paper wrappings fall. My soul teleports to he garden of eden. where they have been conceived.

christianity have communion. where myth touches reality. we have this. two pencil sketches.

they are for two people, but i hang them both on my wall.

and i smile!

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 27: finally

the universe grants the understanding.  she did this week.

here is the story.

life consists of events.  people.  relationships.  loose standing terms.

of growing up.  meeting individual people.  when i did not know beauty, even if it was staring me in the face. . .

when i had dreams of being Bruce Lee. . . .

transition events to happiness.

disjointed events.  individual people.

but then there is what connects everything . . .  the ether of our lives.

growing up, my ether has been rules.

“but, this is not how its done!”

the constant yelling.     the 24/7 “NO‘s!“  the “You are strange!“   the “Where do you get this stuff?!

then there is our souls.  my soul hated the ether of rules around me.  despised it.  made me a very unhappy little boy.

conflict of “but I love my mom.”  Yet I can not handle the rules.  The “cant’s“.  The “it’s not done’s

two great continents collided.

one – the world of rules.  the other – my soul.

and whenever these worlds meet . . .  throughout my life . . . there would be war.  at an intensity that stunned me (and which I did not understand).

I wanted to RUN!  Always AWAY!

America.  India.  Brazil.

later I called it adventure, but tonight I realise that I have been running.  From this war.

in my mythology i have always been looking for a mythical Ithaca.   place where “this is how it has always been done” does not exist.

today I live in Cape Town.  The most beautiful city in the world.  Tonight I realised what was revealed in the city of gold.

I reflect.  the universe speaks.  The most significant relationships in my life ends when rules became what defines life.  when it became the same suffocating ether of my childhood years with a loving mom whose rules ruled supreme.

when this became the ether of my existence.  when the world of do’s and dont’s and this is how its done collided with my soul, yet was the air i was expected to breath.

good, loving people whose souls are do’s and dont’s – when its distant relationships, its fine.  But when it becomes the ether of the environment we create together . . . war!

The relationship with my best friend ended when rules about how companies are set up and investments are done became the thing that defined our friendship.  when this is how its done became the ether of our relationship space.

relationship with the companion of my youth.  the mother of my kids.  when she matured into who she is and realised that she is a white picket fence, this is how its done person.  without apology.  full speed ahead. (my god, I respect this, but if this is the ether of my existence . . . !)

every company i resigned from.  grafoplast.  primedia.  grate positions.  sales director.  national sales manager.  great salary’s.  the ether:  this is how its done.  don’t think.  just do.

WAR!

This week I met with my partners.  it was a spiritual experience.   where their deep spirituality is in perfect harmony and balance with a pragmatic world view of whatever works along with a passionate desire to re-design and re-engineer old structures and entire markets.

structure IS part of the ether I long for.  discipline!  direction!  taking the best from the past!  these are not things that my soul shuns.  in fact.  i crave it!  but, all these along with a belief that we can engineer it all better!  that we NEVER have to say:  but this is how its being done for no other reason but for the fact that history and Harvard professors can’t be wrong!

Ithaca is not a place.  my quest is not to build a city, but to create ether that I can breathe.  the closer our relationship with people, the more we are creating ether.  and it MUST be ether that I can breathe, or I will have violent asthma attacks and suffocate!

as i listen to laurieka raugh, i realise that the ether i crave is like the image of my eternal beloved.  every year . . .  younger.  more beautiful (my god.  is it possible!)  as she refuse this is how it should be. refuse rules for te sake of rules.  The universe itself transforming her into the most beautiful creature ever.

like her eyes.  deep and sparkling with life and vitality.  electricity darting around in them.  able to see 100 things all at once and act with discipline, courage, determination and . . .  with new creativity.  refusing old beliefs and rules!

as the sun sets over the atlantic and cold arctic winds sweep across this great land. . . in my soul -  respect for creating.  deep respect for building and evolving and like the magnificent sphinx, transforming at every point into . . .  true magnificence.  pure beauty.  like my immortal beloved of my soul.

i almost miss my flight.   i realise that what just happened is the answer to a life.

i make it.  just in time.

the next morning i sleep for 13 hours straight.  as if i have not slept for 100 years.

finally!

i dream.  about breathing.  and the magnificence of an amazing sphinx.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 28: maraai’tjie

cape town.  early morning.

coffee at my breakfast coffee shop.

in the evening i’m back for drinks. (off main road, rondebosch)

my seagull and a water nymph teleports.  from the city of gold.

after midnight.  Maraaitjie joins us!

dear, dear maraaitjie.

in her typical cape coloured accent she warns:  “je kan nie daai twie van jo’burg hanteer nie.  Hulle gaan jo opfok mi lanie“.

i’m on my second glass of wine. . .   “ah, fok off maraai’tjie!”, i smile.

my seagull walks over.  “dont talk to her like that!  She will MOER you.“  The water nymph laughs.

I kiss my seagull.  Long and intense.  My tows curl!  My spirit sours.  voice of angels.

Maraait’jie tells me that slow kisses and deep penetrations makes for . . . . I stop her.  “NO!  Are you mad!  People can hear you!

she throws her head back and laughs.

a bergie (a beggar) sings “the holy city”.

i am at a space between awake and asleep.  i glide.  “sit up eben“, my seagull says!

Soul speaks to soul.  my immortal beloved.  “eben,  you want to be my friend. . .  i know you adore me.  help me to grow. . .  reciprocate!  be the man you are!  you grew balls in business.  now grow balls for your friends!  we are friends!

in that moment i become a man!  who adores a woman.

a woman becomes a girl standing in front of a man.  asking him. . .  (it is what it is)

I lean back.  and kiss her.  i fall.  eternity defines.  forever and ever.  and pieter’tjie prays for daemons to depart while i pray for her to stay.  and the water nymph becomes whom she has been.  not in christ.  but in herself.

i lay down to sleep, holding my immortal beloved.

i hear her soft breathing.  becoming regular.  rhythmic.

maraaitjie sees this. . . .   grabs Gatiep and kiss him.

“kissing is a lekka ding!”  she yells!  pure excitement.

i look at them and smile. . . .  “exciting!

the next morning she is gone.  my immortal beloved.

i commit to friendship.  reciprocity.  and practice an ancient Tibetan meditation techniques.

My beloved dances before me.  her entire body glows red.  in her left hand she holds a knife to cuts off all influences.  it must be “pure”.  Close to her right breast, she holds a human skull.  (we are ripped from the circle of life)

a tiara on her head.  bones.  a breast plate.  fire around her.  she grows to the size of the entire universe.  apart from this, she wears nothing.

inside me, a canopy of nothingness.  an energy vortex forms.  running down my center.  i become as big as she is.  we look each other in the eye.

yes” I whisper.  Friends!

her beautiful face gleams as we dance dance.  between millions of galaxies.

then. . .  as small as a grain of sand.  and back to human-size.  at will.

maraai’tjie and gatiep leaves in their cart.  a life.  i hear them laugh as the donkey sends his condolences to good.    he says so long to devotion.   he always did the best he could!

the water nymph reach for her future.  she makes tea and chickens out.  tomorrow she must define a future.

my eternal beloved and i we slow dance to “liesa se klafier”.

and gatiep and maraai’tjie swear as the donkey refuses to walk.

then gatiep yells:  “heeehaa!“, not sure if we are human or dancers.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 29: skipping rocks on water

and finally, we dine. at my castle. my brothers. my kids. i.  my mind drifts back.

my mom was a lovely woman.  and yet, i could not be with her for more than 5 minutes or she would be in tears and i would be upset.

she hated the way i thought. i was strange to her in every way. supposed to have been a dutch reformed minister. loyal to the stuff that good south african boys are loyal to.

but i was not.

she would scream at me. treat me like shit. then a visitor would arrive at home and suddenly she would be sweetness herself. spoke to me like a human being.

I did not only dislike this. I despised it. no respect. none.

and so i retreated. found myself a good book and a good corner. where i did not have to share the hypocrisy.

the kids and i visit ouma (grand mom). Alzheimer’s ravaged her mind. she vaguely remembers me as her son in a rear moment of lucidness.

but just as she would have when before she was sick, it takes just a moment for me to piss her off. the fact that i suggested a photo with La.

I speak to her soul.  respect and love.  for every koeksister she baked and sold so that we could have school uniforms. every meal she prepared in love. every lunchbox she packed for school. every jersey she knitted by hand. every act of kindness and care.

i give her her place of love and honour.

then i tell her that i am who i am. that i make no apology. that her dislike for who i am is her own issue. her pissed-off-ness with me is not mine. that i leave it with her. the fact that she could never speak to me in the same way as she would speak to her friends is her own issue. whatever brought that about in her life is not my issue. i refuse to accept these burdens.

i open my front door. from the lounge, I look out.  It rains softly. around me – soft energy glow. the energy of the entire universe pulses through me.

energy from the rain which falls from eternal skies where clouds drift and smash into my great mountain. energy from the green plants outside my door.

a humble home becomes a mighty castle where energy rejuvenates. i realise – i no longer hide. alone. in a corner. with my books.

from me, energy loops to everything around me. it touches every relationship.

i get lost on purpose with the kids. driving home in a small town. we drive next to the majestic, snow covered swartberge of the littke karroo.

we stop at a low water bridge.  is it safe to pass?

cold Karroo winds and crisp snow air. energy from the universe. my soul wraps itself around this beauty and writes a poem for my immortal beloved. who inhabits splendor and majesty. empowerment and freedom. maturity. astounding creativity.  and perfect beauty.

tonight, i will meet her over these great mountains and we will dance till dawn. we will be human dancers.  lovers and friends.  talk about result driven living!  and glide as we anticipate the sunrise from the great east.

“till tonight” i sing.  then i join the kids. where we pick up rocks and skip them on the water.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 30: unending mornings

legs crossed. i meditate.

beneath me the fabric of space-time. extends like a blanket. energy shoots up. through an energy vortex.

channels through my body.

inside me. . . . two energy loops. feed.

one – disorganized and emotional.
the other – calm. polished.

they dance,
locked – each in the others gravitational fields.

she sits opposite me. legs crossed. back – straight.

the dance . . .
awkward and uncertain.

almost tentative.

she plays her magic.
speaks to souls.

“dancing with no rule structure is difficult.”

I speak to my mom. my dad. brothers. kids. extended family.

to mom and dad i hand back their burdens that i carried.
tell kids not to take mine upon themselves.
extended family – i give back their issues.

she works with disorderly internal power vortex. speaks to polished one. he gains power. becomes dominant in the dance of being. the dance becomes
smooth,
well coordinated
glide.

i throw my head back. my mouth forms a sound.

“Ummmmmmmmmm”.

Low and deep.
protrudes from my throat.
through my nasal cavities.
extending and fills the entire universe.
all of reality.
through power-opening in space-time continuum.

i – stand up.
extend a hand.

“come,” I say. “lets dance.”

she is surprised. i bend down. take her hand.

we dance.

i smell the dew as it distill in crisp morning air on the great Serengeti plains in the Ngorongoro highlands .

at first . . . awkward. like the dance of the two vortices of my being.

we stopped. 210 days. before.

then . . .

one step.

and another.

rhythm. very tentatively.

slowly . . . pace.
rules
order
structure
beauty (and great, great friendship)

deep in the cavity of my being – my soul. polished galaxy – glide. locks disordered into its trajectory.

as we touch, i hear the rumble of the victoria falls. i feel the sunshine on my skin in the cold morning Kairo air as i stand on the pyramid of Khafre.

we glide through everything that exist. all of it.

beginning and end disappear as we dance across time and space.

flying at the speed of light. we leave everything unsaid. souls communicate.

our breathing interlocks. as we inhale, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet light from all of reality speeds towards us. pouring through energy vortex that forms between us.

as we exhale, all light shoots from us. and as it goes – creates billion upon billions of realities.

we dance. my soul – becomes the smooth vortex. polished. real. dominated by order. and beauty.

our eyes lock for a millisecond. i see truth. honesty. integrity. character.
and . . . anny lennox.

this has always been meant to last.

“you listen to the tone and the beautiful rhythm
We say ‘yeah’ with fists flying up in the air”

we are!

and on earth. . . on a rock face somewhere over a great land . . . a flower blooms, seen by no one, but felt by all.

and it blooms. unending mornings!

(c) written at the end of the week when 50% of woodys brands were sold; friends became closest friends and resolve to exceptional living were tested.
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she is . . .

shelton, you say it well
with country. . . .

she is my Wiesenhof breakfast
with cinnamon pancakes
my corn syrup seduction in the mist

she is my freelance farm girl
my long legged princess
my mrs balls chutney whose flarour persist

she is waves at misty beach
a whale song when they breach

maclears beacon on a rainy day
fisherman selling snoek in kalk bay

she is my theuns jordaan
my padda wou gaan opsit in die flei

my hoeveld donderstorm
my frystaat na die bui

sy is Lady wat na ouma se huis gallop
sy is die opsit-kers en ouma se melkkos op die porch

sy is my noord en suid
my oos en wes
sy is my more oggend en my tietiesbaai vissersskuit

she is my best friend. . .

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tag-line


IMG00173-20110820-1916

I substituted:
passion for thought.
soul for mind.

I am :
structure, quality, focus.

I’m passionate about:
life, friendship and my eternal beloved.


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integrating everything. breathing passion. loving her and life!

© eben van tonder

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 31: passion

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i love her for her soft embrace
her gentle way.  her saving grace
her deep dark eyes that speak of life
and passion, love and focused space

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i hold you to my heart this night
and every time i hear your plight
a woman, soft and pure in grace
who will out-last this worldly race

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to stand complete in your own space
when thanks and gratitude’s not traced

you are the crown of life itself
be true only to thyself

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morning images

flowers 2

i held you in my arms last night
i spoiled you till the morning light
do you smell the aroma of the fresh flowers i picked
for you?

cpffee

coffee aroma fills the air
i gently kiss your neck
run my fingers through your dark, beautiful hair
have you seen the rainbow and the swallows returning after
the long winter?

morning

we talk about the coming year
about love and hope and this morning
i hold you tight. whisper devotion in your ear
do you hear the snoek sellers in Kalk Bay harbour?

and the newspaper is late.  but, we dont care.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 32: chronicles of a disorderly/ orderly mind

The_Painter-s_Honeymoon

i look over the expanse of yesterday.  integrate.

to the north – no way out
the south – fallen ground
east and west – cliffs of death.

sniper fire – everywhere

a friend sits next to me, talking about the meaning of life.

Crafting chaos

me:
?why conversation on i can  focus not the
?why live for me or die are is it  life

death sentance

I once heard about a man – sentenced to death.
when the noose was put around his neck he started
to scream

and a man said to his son:  “my son, dont ever loose control like that
there is never a reason for it.”

and the son though:  “my father is an IDIOT!”

prince albert

my friend finds himself. . . he eats caviar
he learns to play the violin
he dances the night away

. . .  i must work.  for my insanity.  Its a good cure.
for my “trying” I must pay.

“now submit to the rules!”

slave

he says:
“i see no cliffs.  no guns of war.
no singing lark.
no dying soldiers in the woods.

you are insane!”

whiskey

i breath rhythmic and strong (have been working for 11 straight hours).
my soul rests.  my mind is clear.
i celebrate holy communion.  drink the blood of christ.
i order a Johnny Walker black
drink with my soul
celebrate life and good gifts of the past month.

there is a time for every season under heaven
a time to be insane and a time to be sane.
a time to drink water and a time to drink Johnny Walker black.
a time to be confused.  and a time of great understanding.

i swirl the whiskey in the glass.  i play with the ice.  i see 20:20.
what was and why? and how it ended.

I raise my glass.
take a sip!

and i feel . . . . (after understanding) very little.

glass of whiskey

** after loosing a close friendship

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 33: reasons why

snapshots in time

beautiful leapard

i drift in and out of reality.
mortal coma

hundred of years passed
in the corridors of time we re-connected
in ancient Mesopotamia she has been my eternal love
- men saw woman as objects  . . .  we have been equals
my immortal beloved

Einstein created time
the atom was split
Pauli discovered uncertainty
. . . .  i fell in love with her

between the fragments of chaos theory and calculus.

she told me that she loved me and all stopped
last night
she told me time is a factor. . .
tonight

(how many ways can i say how deeply i care for her?)

……………………………………………………………………….

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against the cliffs of Misty Beach
at the edge of a great african land
next to the majestic cape point
i am waiting for a friend

not just any friend she is
who rides upon the wind
she tames the seas
she rides on dragons
she lives eternally

she is a white witch
who fly’s on a broom
and cast spells on the earth
she is the seagull of my novel’s

…………………………………………………………………….

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it rains in cape town
cold and wet
in front of me – majestic Hottentots-Holland mountains
i turn right at the big strawberry
and the breakfast and bed

everything in life merge into one.

(dream and reality, but i still think i need a looong break)
………………………………………………………………….

d&s10

passion great
amazing love
companionship – magical
you i love!

beautiful is life!

ps: it still rains.  i drive through the greatest city in the world.  thinking the greatest thoughts ever thought. in my face. rain! or is it tears? i smile.

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 34: beauty unimaginable

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talking to my kids at Burosso’s
about integrating with mind, spirit and soul
the role of emotions
and passion

beauty that is part of our world

asleep last night
suddenly i awake
i touch her had
gently kiss her shoulder

hold her till the morning breaks

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with the kids i discuss the tie
the role of illness and fatigue
the link between the physical and emotion

awareness means less self critique

hiking on table mountain
after a week of storms
raging waterfalls everywhere
birds, flowers, green trees
and everywhere i turn,

she

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the story between my kids and my eternal love
all three – raging waterfalls
with passion flowing from an eternal mountain
and beauty

unimaginable

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Year of the dragon: Chapter 35: white flowers

table mountain

its hot.  step on rock.  staggered like stairs.  muscle fatigue sets in from the first step.  i take it easy.  its a long way to the top.  4L of water in my back pack to sustain me.

gone are the waterfalls from the week before.  dry summer conditions.

the sun – relentless.  i did not bring a hat.  i push on.

I speak to a group of kids who attempt the clime.  “do you have enough water?”  At least 3L’s per person.  They have.  I press on.

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work taunts me.  swims through my mind.  the upcoming trip to europe.  the new factory.  can we get enough raw materials?  performance contracts with suppliers.  I want to be ready.

pass the half way mark.  from the realm of the desert.

on Monday I want to switch gears.  manage the projects completely differently.

suddenly . . . .

the train in my mind switches track.  i am startled.

“oh hell” “Not now!”

in a moment they are all around me.

dragons!

hundreds of them run.  next to me.

“can it be?”  have i arrived in the realm of the dragons?

My heart leaps!  I have missed them!

vegetation – green and lush.

I look at the dragons.  they approach.

I strain my eyes.  they have something in their mouths.

closer.  closer.

what is it?

startled.

white flowers!

Cape flowers white

each one carries a bunch of white mountain flowers in their mouths.  I pinch myself.  am i dreaming?  Flowers!

they approach me carefully.  one by one i take the flowers from them.

arms full of flowers. . . I climb.  no rest.  I push on.  I become intensely curious!

when i get to the last big rocks before the top . . . . i am surprised.  The distance flew past.

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“I am here!”

this is the exact location where i stand and see.  events. . . participate.   majestic.

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a regal shadow falls over me.  look up.  the last time i saw him was in January when the big war started.  for the soul of our business.

Michael!

michael

huge, powerful strokes of his enormous wings.  he flies.

then it all happens at once.  i get to the top and i see her.  standing in a clearance.

right here.  the photo is blurry, but it was right here!

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my breath is gone.  i did not expect her here.  never!  not now!  it would have been presumptuous. . .

but she is here.  right in front of my eyes.

she is so intensely beautiful!

i walk up to her.  lay the flowers around her.  (this is why the dragons brought them to me.)  I climb over the flowers.

“you,” i whisper.  her eyes deep.  green edges.  she smiles.

“yes”, she whispers back.  ”me”

i kiss her.

Michael approaches.  certainty.  I dont see him till hes next to us.

one movement.  both hands.  he reaches out. and in.

right into our chests –  pulling two hearts out.

his hands come together.  two beating hearts in them.  mine and hers. ours.

two hearts fuse.

forms an energy vortex between me and her.  us.  he leaves it there.  in mid air.

he steps away.  respectfully.  (something significant happened.)

billions and billions of power impulses flowing through one heart.  feeding back into me and her.  us.

then he’s gone. no Michael.  no birds.  no sound.  no movement. no dragons.

just me and her.  us.  and the white flowers.

we make love.

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What the heavens give us

On Friday I hiked up Table Mountain.

I saw the world.

I reflected:  What the heavens tell us.

The heavens are telling of the glory of the world;
And their expanse is declaring the work of her hands.

Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.

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There is no speech, nor are there words;
Their voice is not heard.

Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their utterances to the end of the world.
In them she has placed a tent for the sun,

Which is as a bride coming out of her chamber;
It rejoices as my immortal beloved.

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Its rising is from one end of the heavens,
And its circuit to the other end of them;
And there is nothing hidden from its heat.

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The soul is perfect! addressing life on that level restores;
Understanding entanglements is liberation!

The precepts of the ancients are right, rejoicing the heart;
Our constellation existence is sure, enlightening the eyes.

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The love of purity is clean, enduring forever;
The judgments of our council are true; they are righteous altogether.

They are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.

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Moreover, by them the mighty are warned;
In keeping them there is great reward.

Who can discern our potential? I will grow, so that I can overcome my hidden shortcomings.
like the phoenix.  Transformation!

Also keep me back from presumption, thanklessness and pride;
Let them not be found in me;

Let humility, thankfulness be my lifelong companions;
Teachability and child-like curiosity my intimate friends.

Then I will be complete,
And I shall be grounded.

A leader in my profession.
A leader in my home.

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Let me integrate with mind, body and soul;
never to isolate head or heart judgments.

I will exult.
Thankful for every act of kindness bestowed on me by the ancients.

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Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
Be acceptable in your sight,
Oh Earth, giver and sustained of life.

 

®  integrate :: passion :: beauty :: love

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Bountiful Soul

Bountiful soul, you have been through all generations.

Before the mountains were born
Or the earth was brought forth,
Even from everlasting to everlasting, we have been.

the body is turned back into dust
And someone says, “Return, O children of men.”

 

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For a thousand years to our souls
Are like yesterday when it passes by,
Or as a watch in the night.

The body is swept away like a flood, it falls asleep;
In the morning they are like grass which sprouts anew.

In the morning it flourishes and sprouts anew;
Toward evening it fades and withers away.

 

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For we have been consumed by burdens
And by generational entanglements we have been dismayed.

The ancients illuminated ancient entanglements to us,
Our secret burdens are exposed in the light by her magnificent work.

For the days of our ancestors have declined;
They have finished their dwelling like a sigh.

As for the days of our current bodies, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years,
Yet their pride was but labour and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and our magnificent souls fly away.

 

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Who understands the shortness of time
And the brevity of life?

My soul, consider and number your current dwelling’s days,
That you may present a heart of wisdom and purity.

rise up, O soul,
embrace quality!

 

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Satisfy yourself with it in the morning,
That I may be a man of excellence all my days.

Make me glad according to the quality I achieve,
No longer carrying the burdens of my family

Let me never step back into receiving the burdens of others;
May I never again take them to myself.

Let me function on an energetic level;
And confirm for us the work of our hands;
Yes, confirm the work of our hands.

 

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ps: written on the day when we depart for Europe. A day after she worked her magic and released my soul. to be a man of excellence.

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letters to my loved ones 1. From Denmark, with love

Dear mom and dad,

Denmark is much better than I expected. The people are as friendly as the people at home. I thought they would be off-ish, but they are not.

Andreas met me at the harbour. He is a very intelligent guy. And very friendly.

He has not been in the Great War, but he has a friend who’s been and he tells incredible stories.

I particularly like his stories of the Balkan girls who brought them food at the front and how they did not shave their legs as we Boers do.

But he’s got  scary stories too about the fighting.  I must remember to ask Thimo if it was the same in the boer war.

Kristian is the one who took us to Poland.  I have never been so  scared. There was the train ride to the sea and then a ferry to Germany.

The mood was sombre and they did not believe me when I told them I am from Africa. They said I should be black.

In Poland the people from Warsaw met us late at night at the Baltic see. It was freezing cold.

We don’t have cold wind like that. Not even the time when I was in the Cape with Jonny.

We drank strong Polish drink and ate raw mince meat with raw eggs which they put on the meat. They must not know how a good braai works or that you can make fire from mielie stronke.

I met the people and we talked a lot. They will help us. And nobody has to know.  All the learning of English helped because they could not understand me when I swore in Afrikaans at the cold wind. And I did not understand when they spoke Polish to me when I tried to get on a ferry that only locals are supposed to use. Luckily Kristian was there and he could speak German to them.

But  when I met the people from Warsaw, we all spoke English. And when they told me they will help us, I was so happy that I thanked them in Polish.

I did not get the necklace I wanted to.  Which made me very sad.

Its Friday today.

Sitting here at the window of the train, I look out at the green land and strange houses. My mind wonders. . .

To Lady and Poon. Ouma’s melkkos and Ou Jantjie who makes the best whips. The oliefantspote by the fence between our farm and Attie’s.

Seeing everybody going to their homes today made me very sad. Not even the cultural festival in Copenhagen could lift my spirit.

It still feels as if everybody else got a place to go, except me. As it did when I stayed in Johannesburg that one time.

Should I not have been on our farm?

Helping with the ploughing and planting and sleeping in my best bed in the world.  Should I not be allowed to live a normal life and love somebody?

Now, everything is different. Or is it not rather exactly as it has always been? When I would ride for the entire day with Lady to far hills and dream of great adventures.

I have to make things work for our people and our Danish friends and the people from Poland.

It feels as if I have been a visitor where I was supposed to have lived. As if I have been on an adventure my whole life, with no home.

I am sometimes scared when I think about tomorrow. Not that things won’t work out. Precisely the working out is what scares me. The more it works out, the more I will be a stranger at home  . . . and in love?

I know it will work because the people who help us are very clever.

We just arrived at another ferry again and must get off the train now.

I will write again when I get to Spain.

From Denmark, with love,

Eben

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The Story of Woody and Gabriela

on hill

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wresting

Be afraid!

cheeta

beautiful leapard

bear and cub

d grizzly-bear-cub-snow_36882_990x742

horses

d horses-wales_36885_990x742

leapard

d leopard-south-africa_35664_990x742

elephants

d samburu-elephants-group-kenya_28396_990x742

geese

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wilde bees

d wildebeest-tanzania_36895_990x742

couple by sea

d&s11

couple on bed

d&s12

climbing ice

entrust 1

yellow flowers

flowers 2

table mountain flowers

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paella

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woman at window

ioe behind-stage-curtain_26489_600x450

cheeta and cub

ioe mother-cub-panthers_26400_600x450

surfing

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woman swimming

ioe swimmer

roses

morning

cheeta

seth

meditation outside

w&g

couple in afternoon

W&G2

meditation at home

W&G3

main pic

woody.gabriela

e and s

woodys 7

woody

woodys small

phoenix

IMG-20111123-00812

s

IMG-20111123-00796\

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