A Mess of Elephants

Update: Ginormous Little Light attracted the attention of some elephants this week. They insisted I convey their message in exactly  the way they dictated. No artistic license here. I'm just the typist. They spoke in posh-British, which is odd because they are African to the bone.  

The elephants speak:

We arrived here last Sunday morning with a message for you all. First we worked hard to waken Ms Let It Shine, and then we worked even harder to get her to listen to us so that our message would be conveyed in the way we’d like. For some obscure reason she seemed to think we wanted to have a prayer created through which we elephants could speak to humans. What a bizarre concept! We heard about this spot through the universal web and were so excited to hear that a niche had quite unwittingly been created for all us planetary lifers - and some universal and cosmic folk too - to express ourselves in blog land. It’s perfect for us really, because Ms Let Shine recently upgraded to a rather powerful antenna, coupled with the fact that she is adept at selectively tuning in and out of all sorts of frequencies – some of which we wouldn’t recommend be recorded here.

 So we’ll get straight to it. The good lord tells us, you folk have free will. This is a bit of a bloody nuisance for us elephant folk, cos we’re running out of options here - where to live and what to eat. We’d like to know from you free-willed ones if you'll be planting trees anytime soon? We’re doing the best we can to plant as many seeds as possible – you know, eat- poop- planted– eat- poop- planted - but we could really do with some help in this regard. Please don’t attempt to plant the elephant way, and planting trees online is a lovely thought, but isn’t helpful to us. Also, will you be introducing a culling season for your kind sometime in the not-so-distant-and-very-urgent-now thus creating a bit - that’s all we want, a bit - of space on the planet that we could maybe share? We personally don’t favour culling, but it’s the human way of dealing with our population ‘problem’ - so we have been wondering. Oh…… our typist tells us that you do have an established culling programme, but that it’s called something else. She says it’s all year round. She says that in fact there is a branch of the human species that is working hard to stop human culling. Lawd! This is bad news. Excuse us, we don’t mean to cause offense – we are essentially peace loving - but what the hell are we going to eat? It’s a bit hard to take that we and our herbivorous friends are working hard to keep things green, and you guys just …. what do you do exactly? 

(Very long pause) 

Ok, it’s clear we’re not getting through to you.  We think we should start a new paragraph please Ms Let It Shine. We don’t have to try to be warriors.


Ms Let It Shine? Ms Let It Shine! MS LET IT SHINE!

TRUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMPETTTTT!

Ah, good you’re awake.

See you again just now*

*South African time meaning now-now; later; whenever

Riding Waves of Clichés

The light faded a bit here this week. And that’s a good thing because in the fadeout I got clarity! When I created this blog I had no agenda – I just played - with no thought about quality of writing, grammar, and other mental meanderings like ‘where is this going’ or ‘what is the purpose of all this’ that usually creeps in to spoil my fun – and so when a friend expressed that clichés abound on this spot, perfectionist thoughts tried to nuzzle in to persuade me to change tracks and sober up. (I’ve been feeling like I’m having a drunken fling at Bacchus’s) While I’m sure there is truth in what my friend says, I’ve decided to surrender to the tumble of words and visions of absurdity that flood my creative mind in the moment of writing.

Ah, the beauty of blogging. In pops a thought with a sort of ‘Hallo! Can you post me on Ginormous-Little Light today? This is what I have for you.’ And splat! There it is. Sometimes it’s so absurd and ‘out there’ that my mind interjects and fingers freeze on the keyboard. But what if…what if I just let go and…

Let gods?

Yes, and let gods….

We’d say it’s true, you’re having a hell of a time at Bacchus’s and we’re impressed by your capacity to have fun…and we say again, it’s what we love about you. The question is, how much fun can you handle? If we suggest to you that you could stay on and party til the cows come home - which they may never do, because they’re having fun jumping over the moon at Bacchus’s – what would you answer? Would you say, ‘Shite! (yes, Ms Let It Shine, that’s how you’d say it)… it must be my addiction to the pleasure principle that's got a hold again – I’d better stop this’ or ‘ Ha! This is too easy, there’s got to be a catch.’ Or maybe you’ll choose your favourite, ‘What the hell am I doing here, this isn’t earning me any money, I’d better shape up and do something!’ We could offer you an eternity of thoughts to choose from that would end your party right now. And we ask you, what do you want? Do you want to spend hours agonizing that what we write here has been said thousands of time before by thousands of others who have plucked the same images and phrases from heaven-knows-where - or do you want - and there is no other way of putting this - to go with the flow?

We watch as you try to make sense of what is happening here – and we’re pleased to be the bearers of good tidings – you’re still too high to leave. If you sober up, as you put it, you’re afraid you’ll wake up with hangover-remorse and then what good would you be to anyone? And possibly you’ll rant and rave at us for having tricked you into writing this in the first place and we’ll smile and say, ‘breathe’ (knowing full well this was your idea) and then we’ll say,’ here’s another little piece we thought we’d write’ or ‘here’s another prayer we created on our way to a worthy cause’, and you may just want to get intoxicated on good vibes all over again…and that’s OK. Bacchus’s is open 24/7.

We’ve watched as you delight in dropping below the surface of what you call clichés and we hear your laughter as your mind plays with itself and we say, if you’re enjoying the ride on this wave of clichés, then rrrride it! and when its spent, paddle out and catch another wave – perhaps there will be waves and waves of clichés – perhaps the previous one is the last hackneyed wave you’ll ever ride. There is a man who says, in a favourite film of ours about surfing, ‘when you catch a wave and you ride it, that is all there is – there is nothing else – just the wave’.

So when you again feel the light fading on this spot because someone says waves are so cliché and using ‘spot’ before ‘light’ is contrived – remember Ms Let It Shine, it’s your hand on the dimmer switch.

We’ll pop in again just now*  This is such a groovy place to be.
 
South African time meaning now-now; later; whenever

Sweet Surrender

Update: Years ago I watched an award winning documentary about a Bushman tribe. One of the sequences was of a man hunting a buck. He pursues the buck on foot for five hours - running all the time. Eventually the buck is too tired to carry on. It finds a little gully and tries to hide under a tree. The bushman, (who b.t.w my Western friends, looks like he's just walked to the corner shop), approaches the buck quietly. A split second before he releases his arrow the scene cuts to a close up of the buck's one eye. I murmured in recognition of what I saw there....

(We need to take a break here... the gods have arrived, dressed in italics again - I just cant fathom it! It seems they're in a hurry).

Good movie that. We were there. Your 'Update' a bit long-winded. Couldn't get a word in edgewise. Thought we'd fix it. Here's a prayer. Post it. Urgent. Can't stay. In a rush, in a rush... Ta da!

Dear Deer
When the hearts of humans
tremble and quiver
When all they can do is shake and shiver
Please show them how
to surrender with grace
When the huntsman takes aim
at the end of the chase.

Let's speak again just now*

* South African time meaning soon-soon, later, whenever

Home Alone.....Not!

 Update: Last night I dreamt that I was in a sci-fi movie and was sentenced by an evil galactic council to float in outer space for eternity for doing something that I don't recall anymore. I woke up feeling timid.

I'm so afraid right now - and saying it makes me feel worse..

Why's that?

Well it's repelling isn't it?. Who in their right mind wants to hear about someone being afraid? And now that I've said it, I'm even more scared. It's very lonely in outer space. (evidently there are residual bits of dream lurking about).

If you don't say it, who will?

Good question. There's just me here. I can say what I please.

Yes

And now you're here.

Yes

So I'm not alone.

No

OK, that helps. I'm glad I'm not alone.

We too

Let's again just now*

* South African time for soon-soon, later, whenever

Anybody Home?

 Update: The gods have arrived in italics. So strange that. And our conversation continues...


Hallooo! Anybody home?

Hallo gods. What are you doing here? I'm not writing anything at the moment...

That's precisely why we asked. 

 I'm not really sure what it is you can do for me?

It's what you can do for us - which translates into what you can do for you - but we'll not distract you with that right now. We had such fun the previous time we visited, we thought we'd pop in today on our way to the launch of a new ambrosia mix called 'Sipitsniffitsmile'  and see if we could write another prayer with you. 

Um, to be honest - and you like that right - honesty? I felt a bit embarrassed by the 'Every Drop of Water' prayer. All that splishing and sploshing and gurgling and plopping is cringe making.

We can't imagine why. Could it be because of our other work like that super, silly little song, 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' that made mega money for the artist and caused millions of people to be happy, or perhaps it's the Serenity Prayer - 'God, grant me the wisdom to accept the things I cannot change' - which has helped heave a gazillion people out of their addictive patterns. Maybe it's that charming little nursery rhyme, 'Peter, Peter Pumpkin Ea...

Alright! You've made your point. A prayer it is...what do you suggest?

A prayer to the toad...

Oh puleeeeeze!

and gods rushed in where angels fear to tread...

Our Toad
Who art on Earth
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
God's will for you be done
God's will: Toad! To Thine Own Self Be True and
On human ears do smote
Your mighty and all sacred croak
To remind this sorry lot
that they've never actually been broke!
And forgive them Toad - O patient one
For they know not yet what they have done

Let's speak again just now*

* South African time for soon-soon, later, whenever

I Want To Be A Simba Chippie

Even potato crisps have a voice, although some of them are still trying to find theirs....

 Harvesting machines are seen to be collecting large numbers of potatoes from a field, in a film advert that ran in our local cinemas years ago. In the background a catchy jingle plays, 'I Want To Be A Simba Chippie!...I want To Be A Simba Chippie! sung by the potatoes, who are happily anticipating their new lives away from the farm. I've often wondered (which may make you wonder about me), how did the potatoes know they wanted to be Simba chippies?

One little potato doesn't make it. I think he tumbles off the truck or arrives too late for the harvesters. Anyway, the camera zooms in on his crestfallen face as he watches his friends drive off into the distance.

"Aaah, I wanted to be a Simba chippie too."

Well I mean! How does he know? I've often wondered ....... what happened to this forlorn little potato? Did he just lie there and rot away? Did he re-root and try to be a Simba chippie again the following year? Did he re-route and become a Willards chip instead, or was he destined for something else? Did he become a bullet for a child's potato gun, fodder for swine, mash for a starving family? If he wasn't able to re-root or re-route, did he let go of his aspirations to be a crisp with ease, or did he cling to his plans until he became soft and wrinkled? What thoughts and feelings and emotions went through that little potato? Did he go into extreme denial and sing, 'I'm a lonely little petunia in an onion patch' or did this lonely little potato finally, after plummeting through all prescribed layers of grief, submit to the way things are..."I am a potato."

And what of his friends - do they actually know that they want to be crisps, (Simba crisps nogal!) or are they seduced by hearsay? I'd understand if the potatoes were butterflies that, through a natural process of metamorphosis, become what they are. I mean its not like caterpillars wake up in the morning and sing a jingle, "I want to be a wing-ed insect, I want to be a wing-ed insect!" It's likely that caterpillars just wake up feeling hungry and things progress from there without any thought on the caterpillars' part about what happens next.

So I've concluded, from my wonderings and personal life wanderings that the potatoes think they want to be chippies, but that they don't actually know it. Maybe, for our potato friends, landing up as celebrity chippies isn't all it's cut out to be. Maybe they discover - if they live to tell the tale - that there are better things in life than being deep fried and vacuum packed. Maybe they wake up to find that being masticated by a pimply-faced teenager or a fat-fingered fellow, or trodden underfoot at Fantasyland isn't what they imagined the life of a chippie to be. Maybe they go on to realise that if they could choose again, they'd choose to be potatoes.

Which brings me to wonder ....... do you think you want to be a Simba chippie, or do you already know you're a potato?

Let's speak again just now*

*South African time meaning soon-soon, later, whenever

**Simba - A leading brand name for potato crisps
***Willards -A leading brand name for potato crisps

****nogal is an Afrikaans word that defies description. Its prounced no-(or)-g-(sound of an angry cat hissing)-al-(ul)

The Gods Join In

Update: In my first post, I tossed out an invitation, with bravado, to the gods to join in. They didn't hesitate to respond. They arrived this morning, on a flying fish, dressed in italics. Odd gods.

I was musing this morning, 'What can I give to the world, and if I give it, will the world like it or will the world twirl its collective finger - clockwise - at its collective temple, roll its collective eyes heavenward and whistle whoohoo in a knowing-sort-of-a-way?

I barely finished the thought when the gods rushed in, hastily thanked me for my invitation for them to join in, then enthusiastically launched into doing what gods do best - they interfered. They call it 'intervention'.


Focus! We see you are indulging one of your addictions - we strongly recommend you shift your focus away from worrying about the world and place your attention on you. The world is in healthier shape than you at the moment. So, you're wondering what it is you can give today - and forever - if we have anything to do with it. So, to begin, breathe....be still..." (Yeah, right!). We need you to know that the thoughts you are wallowing in are creating static in your experience,  so static is exactly what you are getting.
 
I hauled out my dictionary -  'static - no movement or change.' In electrical terms it means no flow of current. (I mention the electrical reference, cos there is so, so much more I want to say about this - just now*)

OK gods, I hear you. Carry on. What do you have for me?

Ok then, we'd like to help you get clear about the things that spark joy in you. You like to talk right?

Um, well yes...sort of....

Ms Let It Shine, we know you more intimately than you can imagine, so please, let's dispense with pretense and keep arguments to a minimum...

Yes, I like to talk...actually I love to talk...a lot. In fact, if everyone was quiet, I could get a word in edgewise, then I'd be so happy, I'd...

Yes, we know, you'd never have to listen. Let's move on. You love to use your voice - to talk, yes - but also to chant and tone and make sounds. You love to laugh and cry and speak in tongues, and yell and roar and grunt and gasp and groan. What happened to the gasp and groan by the way? It's been a while... anyway, in a nutshell - you love the sound of your own voice right?

Whoa! Slowly there gods almighty, I'm reeling a bit from all these disclosures....

Ok, but reel quickly please, we have work to do...You also love this planet right, and you love the life it supports don't you?

Yes, with all my heart...most of my tears have been about how we abuse the planet and how we abuse each other and how asleep and disconnected...

...we know, we've been on this ride with you all along. Bless you. Now, moving along. You love to create, right?\

Yes. 

And you love to share what you have learned...

Yes. Do you think that goes along with loving the sound of my own voice?

Yes...we love that about you. And you love to perform...

Yes, more so since I discovered I don't have to have drama to be dramatic.

So Ms Let It Shine, what is it you would like to create today? Just for now. What is it you would like to share and give to others today?

Um, I'm not really sure...

Ok, stand aside!

(The gods actually pushed me aside)

A prayer. Yes, that should do it. Type this please Ms Let It Shine, then recite it so the world can hear you.

Every Drop of Water

May every drop of water
that flows -
that splish's or splosh's
 gurgles and washes
 that heaves and crashes
 swirls or splashes
 tap-taps...pings!
 sighs and sings -
Bless this, our Earth,
and inspire us
to mirth

Is that it!? After all that is said, is this all that is done, a wishy-washy prayer!

Yup. Don't be fooled into thinking that the power to bless and heal and that the capacity to instill love is diluted by the simplicity of the task and the lightness of the words...every drop of water in the world heard you Ms Let It Shine - every drop. Let your friends know it.

Let's speak again just now*.

*South African time meaning soon-soon, later, whenever.

ToBeDoBeDo or The Divine Privilege to Yawn a Lot

So, it's this simple is it? A few deep breaths to quell my techno phobia coupled with the absolute lack of anything else to do, and I'm finally nudged over the threshold of blog land. I guess some people might even call it divine intervention in the life of a slothful human.

So, here it is - my first blog posting entitled - not so originally - ToBeDoBeDo - and this is how I figured it...

To Be (or not?) Well, 'Yes', is the answer to the Bard's question,  I am to be and 'No', is also my answer. I already am. But certainly, it is time to Do - hence, this. Then there will be more Be followed by more Do and then some.

Draft 4 of paragraph 2: have plucked at one idea after another with little enthusiasm  - so, I'll simply say 'hallo'.  Along the way I'll reveal bits and pieces of who I am and how I came to have the divine privilege to yawn a lot, play and have fun. And if the god's want to join in - let them!

Let's meet again just now*

(Post Script - the invitation tossed out with bravado to the gods was taken seriously. They swept in a day later as if they own the place.)

*South African time meaning soon-soon, later, whenever