Footsteps of life

Broken Wings

There's a slight, steady incline to my left. All of a sudden I spot a boy pushing his wheelchair to the top of the slope. Arm flail madly as he sets the chair at the slope. With a whoop and a huge smile he scrapes to a halt in front of me.

"Morning Mam," he grins.

He clears the descent for the next crazy paraplegic who belts his way to the bottom of the slope, skew smile decorating his excited face. Once again:

"Morning mam!"

The joy emanating from their broken bodies ensures that these children are fighting to live a full and meaningful life.

Everywhere I walk I am confronted by smiling polite faces, faces belong to broken bodies. Some walking their strange lopsided walk unaided by people or equipment. Enjoying the fact that their feet propel them along.

A white stick meets a white stick. There is a brief moment when they are not sure who has right of way. I steer one to the left a friend steers another to the right and they proceed to their destination.

Talented children, scarred children, children with scars hidden by their clothes or their skin. Children fighting cancer, liver and kidney failure – all greet you with a smile.

Each small achievement is an Everest and each child experiences the exhilaration of overcoming the challenge.

Each child has learnt a lesson that it takes many of us far too long to learn. Appearances are nothing. Strength of character, the ability to extract happiness from the smallest achievement and the determination to get to their goals are important.

Each child will probably experience the death of pupil at some time but each child is determined to make something of their own life.

So what if I have a sore toe today? That child walking in front of me is so twisted in appearance   but the smile on his face would sit well on an angel.

The motto of the Open Air School is "I can and I will." And oh boy do they follow it! Life is theirs for the taking.

Stop the snivelling – stop the worrying. Whatever it is that you want to achieve – YOU CAN AND YOU WILL

The White Rabbit

I think I am suffering from the White Rabbit syndrome: 

"I'm late, I'm late for a very important date."

However it is not a date – and neither is it really important or even romantic. 

No - it is just life. Life has put on its running shoes while I was sleeping and is not waiting for me to catch up. Instead life is spewing things in my path. Things – not flowers or gifts – but things that I have to attend to, pick up, dispose of or pass on. And all this takes time and this time taken means I am continually running for the bus that life has climbed on. 

Come on life – give me a break! Let me stop, see, experience and smell the roses, the rain, the birds and the beauty of the universe.

Facebook

Facebook:

The joy of reconnecting

With pupils past and present

Friends and family far away.

Photos, verse and newsy bits

The world at my fingertips.

Facebook:

The gossip, snide comments

Once read always known

Hurtful, biting and final

In its publicity

For all to revel in.

Facebook:

Tortured images,

Fearful scenes,

Animals maimed,

Sensationalism

Hurtful to my eyes.

To Tat or not to Tat

 I saw the following post on facebook and ir inspired me to write what follows

I do not tat but my daughter and granddaughters do. My daughter is the most caring mother I have ever met. Generalisations are the things that come out of mentally challenged individuals who need to learn that peace comes at a price. That price is DO NOT be judgemental. No-one is forcing you to tat - it's your choice. It is my family's means of expression. My daughter's husband will not tat but cheers her on from the outside. I love my family. I love their intrinsic being - far more than a foible which they may or may not later regret. When I gave my children their skin - I gave it. They need to be happy in their skin. It belonged to me for about 9 months and then it was all theirs – within reason until they were considered old enough to make decisions.

One day I was invited to a party for a friend's mother. I turned the corner and nearly bolted. The girl standing in front of me had mainly blue or black skin and many piercings. She greeted me gently and as the party progressed I realised that I had met a genuine quiet spiritual person who would rather rip her toe nails out if it meant saving an animal or person from distress. I learnt a good lesson that day – Don't make quick judgements based on the appearance of the person in front of you.

I rejoice in jeans and baggy shirts – no make up – probably looking a bit of a slobbut I am  happy. I enjoy a long bath in the mornings – the most important part of my day – the scenes in my novel that are tricky or when I have painted my story into a corner – I lie back and let the water surround me and new characters appear, new situations that will get me out of my jam unfold. My mind and my body have had a good wash and have become energised.

The Abyss

I am descending into the dark abyss which envelopes my heart and soul.

What is life?

What is love?

Who am I?

Why am I?

Unanswered questions pound my mind

Sleep evades me.

What is the point?

What is the purpose?

Creep into the cave of my intrinsic being

Alone and unfettered

Waiting to be free.

Time out

Seventeen years ago I was looking for a new home. I viewed my unit and I was blown away by the peace and serenity, the bird calls and the surrounding trees and knew I had to have that place.

I moved in and took every opportunity to enjoy the tranquillity. My creative gene stretched itself and woke up and invaded my being. I called my unit "Inspiration". But you know what they say – "Familiarity breeds contempt". This may be a bit strong but life happened and I seldom took the time out to sit and appreciate what my busy lifestyle was paying for – peace and serenity. Instead I looked all over for this hidden commodity that resided on my doorstep. Okay I did enjoy the peace, I did enjoy the serenity but it was only in passing. I am very fortunate to have a door leading out of my study into my garden. On good days I sit in my study working with the door open but I did not, could not, immerse myself in nature – there was work to be done.

In the last few months life has assumed a (more than usual) stressful component. On Sunday I took a short time to immerse myself in nature and felt healed but Monday, Tuesday oh boy! Life intervened again and I found myself running around chasing my tail. It is now nearly 10 am on Wednesday morning, 17^th September which in South Africa is the beginning of spring. I opened the study door and was immersed in the song of birds with the occasional squawk of the Hadedahs. I stopped, I paused, I wondered about nature – it had me in its thrall. I wanted to capture these soothing, calming sounds so that I could play them again. So out with the cell phone, silence from me so that I could record the peace and tranquillity.

Forty seconds of peace punctuated by the Hadedahs. Playback time – nothing – except of course the occasional Hadedah.  

The thought smacked me on the side of my head – "Nature has to be experienced – we cannot just summon up the peace and tranquillity at will. We need to be involved. We need to take some time out."

Stop, look and listen – your stress healing is always there – the Universe, God, Allah whatever you choose to call it has given this to you.

The sad thing is that I now know this fact (once again) and I will (once again) appreciate it for a time and (once again) life will happen and I will (once again) forget. But for these brief moments I know and appreciate serenity.

The view from my study

One Swallow …

A moment in Spring -
sprawling in the sun.
Absorbing healing rays -
a gift from nature.

Silence engulfed me,
scents awakened my senses.
Slowly, quietly a sound
tickles my ear.

Wake up eyes - look, see
Ears hear – a buzz,
a chirp, a song.
Inhale Nature's perfume.

Swallows circling
one, two …
and then a swarm
swirling above my head.

A bee,
a cricket
a swallow
a hawk.

And suddenly
man's purpose -
my purpose -
all is clear.

In my Dream

In my dream
our souls touched
Two tender souls
padded against disclosure.

In my dream
our eyes met
like meeting like
for one brief moment.

In my dream
we found a path
we walked,
we laughed and we talked.

But I woke up
and my dream ended -
but for those precious moments
I held you close to my heart.

Don't bring me flowers

Alive, alert, blooming

Stems severed

A painful stab

Wither and die

in a vase for our delight.

Rocks hard, unyielding

weathered, stable

Pass them by -

Miss an internal beauty

unseen, protected, resilient

shattered into a kaleidoscope of living colours.

Shimmering, twinkling crystals.

Fiery red – volatile passion

Deep blue – peace and serenity

Green gives spiritual growth

Pink will ease your pain.

Friend, I give you a bundle of colours

Enshrined in a hard resilient exterior.

Stay firm, resilient and stable.

The winds of change grants a smooth beauty.

Written for a friend who needed upliftment

(c) Vera Alexander

Extract from "Red Flag"

Princess sat huddled on the floor in the corner of the overcrowded hut. Her hands wrapped around her knees. She rested her forehead on her drawn up knees and let the silent tears flow.

"Damn him! Damn him! Damn his charm! Damn his good looks! Damn the trinkets that he flashed before my eyes! Oh God! What am I going to do?"

She heard her mother's voice calling to her. She snorted the tears back into her body, counted to three and lifted her head to see what her mother wanted.

"Why are you sitting in the corner by yourself? Come and sit with us! Come and hear Aunt Sindisiwe's funny stories," called her mother.

"In a while, Ma, I've got a headache."

"Take a powder. They're in the drawer by the basin."

"I have Ma," lied Princess.

"Alright my girl, come over when you feel better."

"Yes Ma!"

She let her thoughts flow once more. "When I feel better! Mmph! That will be never. He gave me that thing. That thing that makes you so sick. That thing that kills you. He made me pregnant. What will happen to me? What will happen to my baby? What will my mother do to me when she finds out? We can't afford to bring a baby into our house."

She unravelled herself from the floor, surreptitiously wiped her eyes and made her way to be "amused" by her Aunt's tale of life with a rich white family in Durban. She sat with a fixed smile on her face but her mind was wondering elsewhere.

She had heard about that Sangoma. That one who helped young girls when they were pregnant. Her name was whispered around the school. Sometimes the girls came back to school with no trace of the baby. Two girls had just disappeared after the treatment. No-one really knew where they were. They had just vanished. Their families said they had run away. Maybe she should just run away. But then she would still have the problem.

"The TWO problems," she thought bitterly. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

How could she have been so stupid to fall into his trap? He was at least ten years older than her. Why had she been so proud of the interest this man had shown in her? Her friends envied her. He could take her to nice places. He took her to the best shebeen in the township – a shebeen that allowed him to buy her drinks.

Some of the drinks had tasted horrible and she had screwed up her face after tasting them. He had laughed and said "You need to get used to that one!"

It seemed like she had tasted hundreds before she tasted one that she liked.

"Oooh, I like this. What's this one called?" she asked.

"Oh, that's just a fruit drink," he replied. She saw him wink to the waiter as he said, "She likes this one! Keep it coming!"

She started to feel warm and giggly. She looked at him with adoration. He stroked her legs under the table. She felt shivers escalating through her body. Devine shivers that excited parts of her that had been asleep her whole life. He led her out of the shebeen and soon they were in his hut where his piercing penis had taken away her flower. Everything was easy for him after that. Once the flower was lost there was no holding her back. She responded to his faintest touch in a fury of passion.

Download from:

 

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LNQ2XP0  

or 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/456286

Life's cherub.

Why are you so elusive?
You flit here and there,
dropping light kisses on some
mild reprimands on others.
When will I deserve your kisses?

I need to enfold you
but first I must catch you.
You tease me.
You're just out of reach,
blowing kisses that never reach me.

I creep up behind you.
I reach out to hold you -
you dart away with a light laugh
glancing over your shoulder -
amused by my expression of dismay.

I visit you’re altar.
I empty my heart -
I empty my soul -
I lay my talent before you.
But my gifts lie ignored and then forgotten…

Strange Ideas and Ideals.

The following was posted on Facebook yesterday - hence my "tirade"!

"When children see animals in a circus, they learn that animals exist for our amusement. Quite apart from the cruelty involved in training and confining these animals, the whole idea that we should enjoy the humiliating spectacle of an elephant or lion made to perform circus tricks shows a lack of respect for the animals as individuals"

— Peter Singer

Sorry that statement is far too broad.

I saw animals in a circus when I was young. I did not come away with the feeling that animals only exist for our amusement. I have never felt that and I never will. I felt privileged that I could be in close proximity to a huge animal and I felt wonder at all the things that made him different. I felt anger when they were chastised with whips – my skin burnt for them. I wept when I saw them in cages and tethered in a minute walking area. But I realised that the world was vast and I was a little girl gazing at a majesty I wouldn't easily see again. I cried for the cruelty but I thanked the animals for allowing me to experience them.

I existed in the Apartheid regime in South Africa. I saw little black children who were not allowed to come to this magical place and I couldn't understand it. I think, even at that stage I was colour blind in one way but ashamed in another way when I realised that they probably thought I was different. I wasn't - I was a little girl.

In our modern society we tend to over think things. YES there are things that we need to get upset about. YES we need to do something about it and YES Facebook seems to be an ideal platform but pick your battles (and your words) carefully – don't sweat the petty stuff and beware of abject generalisations. By all means use Facebook to scream and shout about things that REALLY matter. Cruelty to animals matters. Cruelty to humans matters. Cruelty to nature matters. But be very careful of broad statements like the above.

Surely children have the ability to distinguish right from wrong, good from bad and sensible from silly?

I think we mollycoddle our kids too much now. Why should every trick come with the warning "Don't try this at home"? Have kids lost so much touch with reality that they have lost all logic on the way. When I saw Superman scale a building or fly through space did I really think I could do it? Hell NO! My parents had encouraged me to think before doing things and even my 4 year old self could see the danger. Why is there a difference? How can a modern child shoot another child and expect the child to claw up from underground? We saw the same cartoons! Ajax boxes falling on characters who were perfectly fine in the next frame. What made me able to see the difference? What made my kids see the difference? Are we placing lunatic ideas in our children's minds nowadays?

Who is responsible for guiding young minds so that the ability to distinguish right from wrong, good from bad, sensible from silly becomes a firmly grounded principle? Parents? Teachers?

And finally animals are there for our amusement – and our love and our caring. Come on who of you haven't roared with laughter at your animal (cat, dog or whatever) when they do something silly or unpredicted? They are as funny (and serious and loving) as you and your children are.

Let's laugh at, cry with and enjoy life and all the creations that we are blessed to have.

Another extract "Darker before Dawn"

Jasmyn steered her to a corridor on the right of the stairs. The corridor led towards the back of the building and opened out onto a large area – the staff room/canteen. Sharon made a rapid survey of the room before being steered to a series of lockers lining the left wall. Jasmyn pointed out Sharon's locker.

"These are useful for storing anything we will only need once or twice during the day or maybe only when we leave – like our handbags. I usually bring lunch from home – it's cheaper. I seldom keep it in the fridge I rather store it in my locker."

"Oh! Why?"

"Because of Ravenous Roger!"

"Who is he?"

"We wish we knew! Someone on the staff is very fond of raiding the fridge and stocking up on other people's lunch! It's sickening. Because we don't know who it is, we have given the perp the nickname Ravenous Roger. Believe me your food is safest in the locker. I brought a temporary lock for you. If you like it you can have it but if you want to buy your own I will keep it for the next newbie. I won't be offended!"

"Thanks Jasmyn. I will certainly use it for a while at least, to help protect my meagre belongings from Ravenous Roger!"

As they stood by the lockers Jasmyn pointed out the other features of the room.

"The fridge – the table top stove, Microwave, toaster, kettle etc are there next to the sink. That way!" laughed Jasmyn as Sharon scanned the nearest walls.

"Oooh I see you have a coffee maker!"

"Yep the best there is – it helps keep all the creative minds focused! Just remember we clean up after ourselves!"

Sharon's eyes wandered around the room.

"Gee that’s a big balcony!"

Jasmyn led the way to balcony in the outer wall. "Usually the smokers can be found here but as the firm has a strict policy for smokers, the number of people smoking is dwindling. They liked it when they could smoke while they were working. Now they have to take a smoke break. Every smoker has three quarters of an hour for lunch and five minutes for morning tea and ten minutes for afternoon tea. Non smokers get one and a half hours for lunch and fifteen minutes for both tea breaks."

"But isn't that unfair? Don't the smokers complain?"

"No. The conditions were set up in consultation with the smokers and all new employees have to either fill in a non smoking clause (as you did) or sign the smoking conditions of employment form. In the original discussion we set the average number of cigarettes to be ten. So if every cigarette smoked takes ten minutes (to get to the balcony, smoke the cigarette and get back) They are using up one hundred minutes and we are only using up sixty. We should be complaining!"

"But don't most people smoke less in a work day?"

"Yes but they didn't think of that when the original document was drawn up – cigarettes were cheaper then so people smoked more. They soon realised that they were at the short end of the stick and the more enterprising ones decided that smoking was a mugs game and gave it up."

"So it had a positive outcome!" laughed Sharon.

"Oh yes!" said Jasmyn.

She led the way to the balcony. Even though the balcony was on ground floor level it was slightly elevated and there was still an interesting and fairly open view of the Jacaranda trees still in full bloom. Sharon looked across at a quilt of colour ranging form the red of the roof tops to the red, yellow, green of traffic lights all interspersed with the unique jacaranda colour. Sharon could imagine the carpet of flowers on the pavements below the tress.

"And over there in the middle of the room are seats, couches, bean bag chairs – anything you need to relax during your breaks." Jasmyn's voice interrupted Sharon's thoughts as her imagination peopled the city below her. "We also have a sort of park, more like gardens really. It has a lake with ducks and various other flora and fauna. Come now!  Time to move on!"

By the end of a rapid but extensive tour, Sharon was taken to the editorial department. She would spend a few days here learning what happened to the Manuscripts that were sent in by hopeful writers.

 
Jasmyn beckoned to one of the harassed looking men who seemed to be immersed in paper. "Hi Reuben! I've brought Sharon to help out here for a few days. She needs to understand how our publishing house works and Mr Bezuidenhout knew that you were the best person for the job. When you are ready to move her on could you or Eric please take her to the publicity department? 'Bye for now Sharon. I know you are going to enjoy it here! See you round and about - if not see you on the Christmas tree!"