Just in case anyone thought anything different..... day 32 is here.
I stopped counting at Day 10 which was the breakthrough milestone for me.
Weight: Holding at 96kg. STRONG!! But realising that my appetite is twice what it was - amazing. I do have to be careful until that settles down.
Lungs: Did 80m underwater at the weekend. For those that think that is not far - try it!!
Sleep: The biggest surprise of all is that I sleep better than I have for 30 years. If I wake, it is NOT to the urge of wanting to smoke, which I must admit, I used to. 24/7 it was for me. And best of all, that last cigarette of the day that used to be SO important...... Well, it no longer pushes my pulse rate up to clearly NOT a resting rate, because I no longer need the drug!!
All good!! And smiling.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
The Meaning of Life
NEW YORK — What’s life for? That question stirred as I contemplated two rhesus monkeys, Canto, aged 27, and Owen, aged 29, whose photographs appeared last week in The New York Times.
The monkeys are part of a protracted experiment in aging being conducted by a University of Wisconsin team. Canto gets a restricted diet with 30 percent fewer calories than usual while Owen gets to eat whatever the heck he pleases.
Preliminary conclusions, published in Science two decades after the experiment began, “demonstrate that caloric restriction slows aging in a primate species,” the scientists leading the experiment wrote. While just 13 percent of the dieting group has died in ways judged due to old age, 37 percent of the feasting monkeys are already dead.
These conclusions have been contested by other scientists for various reasons I won’t bore you with — boredom definitely shortens life spans.
Meanwhile, before everyone holds the French fries, the issue arises of how these primates — whose average life span in the wild is 27 (with a maximum of 40) — are feeling and whether these feelings impact their desire to live.
Monkeys’ emotions were part of my childhood. My father, a doctor, worked with them all his life. His thesis at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa, was on the menstrual cycle of baboons. When he settled in Britain in the 1950s, he had some of his baboons (average life span 30) shipped over, ultimately donating a couple to the London Zoo.
Upon visiting the zoo much later, he got a full-throated greeting from the baboons, who rushed to the front of their cage to tell him they’d missed him. Moral of story: Don’t underestimate monkeys’ feelings.
Which brings me to low-cal Canto and high-cal Owen: Canto looks drawn, weary, ashen and miserable in his thinness, mouth slightly agape, features pinched, eyes blank, his expression screaming, “Please, no, not another plateful of seeds!”
Well-fed Owen, by contrast, is a happy camper with a wry smile, every inch the laid-back simian, plump, eyes twinkling, full mouth relaxed, skin glowing, exuding wisdom as if he’s just read Kierkegaard and concluded that “Life must be lived forward, but can only be understood backward.”
It’s the difference between the guy who got the marbleized rib-eye and the guy who got the oh-so-lean filet. Or between the guy who got a Château Grand Pontet St. Emilion with his brie and the guy who got water. As Edgar notes in King Lear, “Ripeness is all.” You don’t get to ripeness by eating apple peel for breakfast.
Speaking of St. Emilion, scientists, aware that most human beings don’t have the discipline to slash their calorie intake by almost a third, have been looking for substances that might mimic the effects of caloric restriction. They have found one candidate, resveratrol, in red wine.
The thing is there’s not enough resveratrol in wine to do the trick, so scientists are trying to concentrate it, or produce a chemical like it in order to offer people the gain (in life expectancy) without the pain (of dieting).
I don’t buy this gain-without-pain notion. Duality resides, indissoluble, at life’s core — Faust’s two souls within his breast, Anna Karenina’s shifting essence. Life without death would be miserable. Its beauty is bound to its fragility. Dawn is unimaginable without the dusk.
When life extension supplants life quality as a goal, you get the desolation of Canto the monkey. Living to 120 holds zero appeal for me. Canto looks like he’s itching to be put out of his misery.
There’s an alternative to resveratrol. Something is secreted in the love-sick that causes rapid loss of appetite — caloric restriction — yet scientists have been unable to reproduce this miracle substance, for if they did they would be decoding love. Because love is too close to the divine, life’s essence, it seems to defy such breakdown.
My mother died of cancer at 69. Her father lived to 98, her mother to 104. I said my mother died of cancer. But that’s not true. She was bipolar and depression devastated her. What took her life was misery.
We don’t understand what the mind secretes. The process of aging remains full of enigma. But I’d bet on jovial Owen outliving wretched Canto. I suspect those dissenting scientists I didn’t bore you with are right.
My 98-year-old grandfather had a party trick, making crisscross incisions into a watermelon, before allowing it to fall open in a giant red blossom. It was as beautiful as a lily opening — and, still vivid, close to what life is for.
When my father went to pick up his baboons at Heathrow airport, he stopped at a grocery store to buy them a treat. “Two pounds of bananas, please,” he said. But there were none. “O.K.,” he said, “Then I’ll take two pounds of carrots.” The shopkeeper gave him a very strange look before hurriedly handing over the carrots.
I can hear my 88-year-old father’s laughter as he tells this story. Laughter extends life. There’s little of it in the low-cal world and little doubt pudgy Owen will have the last laugh.
By Roger Cohen, published in the New York Times 15 July 2009
The monkeys are part of a protracted experiment in aging being conducted by a University of Wisconsin team. Canto gets a restricted diet with 30 percent fewer calories than usual while Owen gets to eat whatever the heck he pleases.
Preliminary conclusions, published in Science two decades after the experiment began, “demonstrate that caloric restriction slows aging in a primate species,” the scientists leading the experiment wrote. While just 13 percent of the dieting group has died in ways judged due to old age, 37 percent of the feasting monkeys are already dead.
These conclusions have been contested by other scientists for various reasons I won’t bore you with — boredom definitely shortens life spans.
Meanwhile, before everyone holds the French fries, the issue arises of how these primates — whose average life span in the wild is 27 (with a maximum of 40) — are feeling and whether these feelings impact their desire to live.
Monkeys’ emotions were part of my childhood. My father, a doctor, worked with them all his life. His thesis at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa, was on the menstrual cycle of baboons. When he settled in Britain in the 1950s, he had some of his baboons (average life span 30) shipped over, ultimately donating a couple to the London Zoo.
Upon visiting the zoo much later, he got a full-throated greeting from the baboons, who rushed to the front of their cage to tell him they’d missed him. Moral of story: Don’t underestimate monkeys’ feelings.
Which brings me to low-cal Canto and high-cal Owen: Canto looks drawn, weary, ashen and miserable in his thinness, mouth slightly agape, features pinched, eyes blank, his expression screaming, “Please, no, not another plateful of seeds!”
Well-fed Owen, by contrast, is a happy camper with a wry smile, every inch the laid-back simian, plump, eyes twinkling, full mouth relaxed, skin glowing, exuding wisdom as if he’s just read Kierkegaard and concluded that “Life must be lived forward, but can only be understood backward.”
It’s the difference between the guy who got the marbleized rib-eye and the guy who got the oh-so-lean filet. Or between the guy who got a Château Grand Pontet St. Emilion with his brie and the guy who got water. As Edgar notes in King Lear, “Ripeness is all.” You don’t get to ripeness by eating apple peel for breakfast.
Speaking of St. Emilion, scientists, aware that most human beings don’t have the discipline to slash their calorie intake by almost a third, have been looking for substances that might mimic the effects of caloric restriction. They have found one candidate, resveratrol, in red wine.
The thing is there’s not enough resveratrol in wine to do the trick, so scientists are trying to concentrate it, or produce a chemical like it in order to offer people the gain (in life expectancy) without the pain (of dieting).
I don’t buy this gain-without-pain notion. Duality resides, indissoluble, at life’s core — Faust’s two souls within his breast, Anna Karenina’s shifting essence. Life without death would be miserable. Its beauty is bound to its fragility. Dawn is unimaginable without the dusk.
When life extension supplants life quality as a goal, you get the desolation of Canto the monkey. Living to 120 holds zero appeal for me. Canto looks like he’s itching to be put out of his misery.
There’s an alternative to resveratrol. Something is secreted in the love-sick that causes rapid loss of appetite — caloric restriction — yet scientists have been unable to reproduce this miracle substance, for if they did they would be decoding love. Because love is too close to the divine, life’s essence, it seems to defy such breakdown.
My mother died of cancer at 69. Her father lived to 98, her mother to 104. I said my mother died of cancer. But that’s not true. She was bipolar and depression devastated her. What took her life was misery.
We don’t understand what the mind secretes. The process of aging remains full of enigma. But I’d bet on jovial Owen outliving wretched Canto. I suspect those dissenting scientists I didn’t bore you with are right.
My 98-year-old grandfather had a party trick, making crisscross incisions into a watermelon, before allowing it to fall open in a giant red blossom. It was as beautiful as a lily opening — and, still vivid, close to what life is for.
When my father went to pick up his baboons at Heathrow airport, he stopped at a grocery store to buy them a treat. “Two pounds of bananas, please,” he said. But there were none. “O.K.,” he said, “Then I’ll take two pounds of carrots.” The shopkeeper gave him a very strange look before hurriedly handing over the carrots.
I can hear my 88-year-old father’s laughter as he tells this story. Laughter extends life. There’s little of it in the low-cal world and little doubt pudgy Owen will have the last laugh.
By Roger Cohen, published in the New York Times 15 July 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Day 5
Tick tock.
The cravings gnaw at me.
Powerful and overwhelming urges to smoke.
To light one up.
To draw in that lungful of poison and because I think it will make me feel great.
But I will not.... I will NOT.
The cravings gnaw at me.
Powerful and overwhelming urges to smoke.
To light one up.
To draw in that lungful of poison and because I think it will make me feel great.
But I will not.... I will NOT.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Day 3
Who would have thought that I would make it to day 3?
I bet no one!
I have and have avoided one or two crises this morning during which I could have set myself on fire to have a smoke..... got through them though and so far have been smoke free for 69 hours.
No more Carbon Monoxide in my body.
No more Nicotine in my body.
I bet no one!
I have and have avoided one or two crises this morning during which I could have set myself on fire to have a smoke..... got through them though and so far have been smoke free for 69 hours.
No more Carbon Monoxide in my body.
No more Nicotine in my body.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Day 2
09h40 Sunday morning. I have been through the Friday night and Saturday night of a weekend.
On both nights I was out with friends, some of whom are smokers, and I must say that it was not as bad as I thought it would be.
I do have to be careful not to gulp gallons of alcohol down my throat every time I feel the urge to grab someone by the neck and steal their cigarettes from them!
By no means out of the woods yet, but a damn fine start.
Tick tock tock tock
Thanks you those of you who have been encouraging and supportive. Much appreciated.
On both nights I was out with friends, some of whom are smokers, and I must say that it was not as bad as I thought it would be.
I do have to be careful not to gulp gallons of alcohol down my throat every time I feel the urge to grab someone by the neck and steal their cigarettes from them!
By no means out of the woods yet, but a damn fine start.
Tick tock tock tock
Thanks you those of you who have been encouraging and supportive. Much appreciated.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Day 0
It has started. I extinguished my last cigarette at 14h52 today local time in Kuala Lumpur.
31 years a smoker fool.
3 hours and 50 minutes a non smoker....
Nic Benson - you are a scholar and a gentleman for your words of support.
31 years a smoker fool.
3 hours and 50 minutes a non smoker....
Nic Benson - you are a scholar and a gentleman for your words of support.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
What is wrong with people???
Honour (from the Latin word honos, honoris) is the evaluation of a person's trustworthiness and social status based on that individual's actions. Honour is deemed exactly what determines a person's character: whether or not the person reflects honesty, respect, integrity, or fairness.
Accordingly, individuals are assigned worth and stature based on the harmony of their actions, code of honour, and that of the society at large. Honour can be analysed as a relativistic concept, i.e., conflicts between individuals and even cultures arising as a consequence of material circumstance and ambition, rather than fundamental differences in principle.
Alternatively, it can be viewed as nativist — that honour is as real to the human condition as love, and likewise derives from the formative personal bonds that establish one's personal dignity and character.
Dr Samuel Johnson, in his "A Dictionary of the English Language" (1755), defined honour as having several senses, the first of which was "nobility of soul, magnanimity, and a scorn of meanness." This sort of honour derives from the perceived virtuous conduct and personal integrity of the person endowed with it.
On the other hand, Johnson also defined honour in relationship to "reputation" and "fame"; to "privileges of rank or birth", and as "respect" of the kind which "places an individual socially and determines his right to precedence."
This sort of honour is not so much a function of moral or ethical excellence, as it is a consequence of power.
Accordingly, individuals are assigned worth and stature based on the harmony of their actions, code of honour, and that of the society at large. Honour can be analysed as a relativistic concept, i.e., conflicts between individuals and even cultures arising as a consequence of material circumstance and ambition, rather than fundamental differences in principle.
Alternatively, it can be viewed as nativist — that honour is as real to the human condition as love, and likewise derives from the formative personal bonds that establish one's personal dignity and character.
Dr Samuel Johnson, in his "A Dictionary of the English Language" (1755), defined honour as having several senses, the first of which was "nobility of soul, magnanimity, and a scorn of meanness." This sort of honour derives from the perceived virtuous conduct and personal integrity of the person endowed with it.
On the other hand, Johnson also defined honour in relationship to "reputation" and "fame"; to "privileges of rank or birth", and as "respect" of the kind which "places an individual socially and determines his right to precedence."
This sort of honour is not so much a function of moral or ethical excellence, as it is a consequence of power.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
An interesting piece by John Malherbe
Just some more ramblings which you might find interesting or not. The essay is far from finished. I’m tending to narrate the ideas from the inside-out so it gets a little gappy and convoluted at times but the extrusions are inverting which is good.
I believe that our reactive society prevents us from seeing the magic and any communication needs to somehow convey the message so that we can stop apologising and making excuses. Retrieving a Soul Quote: R. W. Emerson “Jesus Christ belonged to the true race of prophets. He saw with an open eye the mystery of the Soul. Drawn by its severe harmony, ravished with all its beauty, he lived in it, and had his being there. Alone in all history, he estimated the greatness of man. One man was true to what is in you and me. He saw that God incarnates himself in man, and ever more goes forth anew to take possession of his world. He said in this jubilee of sublime emotion, “I am divine. Through me God acts; through me speaks. Would you see God, see me; or see thee, when thou thinkest as I now think.”
What is the difference between a culture and a civilization and what might unite them or fuse them? A Soul? For the purpose of this discussion or task let us assume that the collective consciousness of South Africa is united. What do we mean by collective consciousness? There have been many descriptions of this phenomenon mostly characterized by a group identity, sense of humour, negative sentiment (doomsayers resistant to change or progress), a state being where it is characterized by fear or paranoia (violence stats.) or sense of inadequacy especially when applied to the developing countries in relation to the developed world. We might have the luxury of describing this state as a consciousness in formation or in an early stage of evolution but making progress, hold that thought.
If we perceive this united consciousness as a single person and forget the complexity that makes up this person or psyche, then we may see that this person is evolving. The hardship or friction they may be experiencing at any one time can be seen philosophically (in retrospect perhaps) to be the only thing that could have happened at that time to make them grow or progress to their next stage of evolution. The only thing that prevents them from seeing this fact is that they can’t see. They are in fact a bunch of thoughts, opinions, fears, regrets, reconciliation’s. In fact with all these thoughts they can’t see what they are, let alone what they should do.
It could be said that this person through all their trials, doubts and fears was evolving into a new state of Being but perhaps only if they realise what is happening to them and behave in a way which allows this to happen. If they do this they might be able to become what they are supposed to become and actually evolve.This new state of Being displays some remarkable but familiar behaviour. Listed these may include humility, empathy, tolerance, which collectively might be summed up as a “State of Grace”. In fact these familiar emotions are not emotions at all, they are a state Being that we are evolving into.
A significant proportion of South Africans were surprised but relieved that when Nelson Mandela and others were released from prison there was not a rampage of revenge and bloodshed. Perhaps this new state of Being doesn’t need revenge. In fact not only did this new state of Being not take vengeance, they accommodated the “enemy” and bent over backwards to make them feel that they belonged. This is a peculiarly South African characteristic, we are, I believe, the most hospitable, accommodating nation on earth. This thread unites us, black, white and everything in between. There is a strange something that, only here, makes it possible to be truly cosmopolitan. Everybody who comes here is made to feel at home, like they belong. As hard as we try to behave in this way as individuals from all our different perspectives and fears perhaps there is something else that unites us. Maybe Africa is home, a place where we can put up our feet, be silent, rest and recuperate, regenerate. Maybe Southern and South Africa is that place where we can all come to regenerate, to realise that we are evolving. A place where we can in a sense shed our skin and accept graciously this new state of Being. It can only happen where we belong, in the wilderness, in silence. If we tell people this in the simplest way they may also realise that this place, home, is where they need to come to find relaxation and respite, the only real opportunity to regenerate, something not available elsewhere. Maybe the only way to explain it is to tell the world to come home. That this is the only place where you can come and experience this new state of Being, what it feels like to be human.
Throughout history the great civilisations have one thing in common. They gave everyone a chance to feel what it was like to be human. Maybe South Africa will be considered to be the next great civilisation….It won’t if we don’t see what we are and what we are becoming. Whatever we do and whoever we are we all need to go home sometime to understand what it feels like to be human because we are human for a reason. Not only are we human for a reason, but male and female, rich and poor, black and white for the same reason. As each individual must learn to know themselves through their own eyes, their own perceptions, naked and raw, they must learn to see, so must a nation or a country or a civilisation. At best the current perception of itself (SA) must seem psychotic if not schizophrenic. This quest for seeing or perception is how we must begin to find our relationship with the world around us, it is our navigational tool. As the individual must take stock of what and who they are to begin regeneration so must the civilisation. As the individual or civilisation begins to see they will also know how far they can see, who they can reach, and in context, their role in the order of things will extract itself. They see what they are.This perceiving quest is how we must begin to find our relationship with the world around us. As the individual must take stock of what and who they are (take back their power) to complete their own creation, they will see how far they can see, who they can reach and in context their role in the order of things will extract itself.
The responsibility to take that essence (SA = Healing and Regeneration?) and in turn complete its creation becomes a part of the perceiving quest and a new mythology is born, one in which we unfold our own myth. The responsibility in the context of SA is perhaps more about perceiving or seeing itself before others can see it.
The real cost of Aids is emotional and spiritual, that death is priceless. This is what we have to tell the world. Not that we’ve beaten it through science and technology or suppression or interpretation of the facts, but through understanding. The only price to pay for Aids is that of not understanding, then we fight the war of inflation and poverty on other peoples turf and terms.
South Africa is one of the only places in the world where you can cultivate understanding but we know as South Africans we can cultivate that in most climates. In the late 60’s while everyone was focussing on the USA going to the moon a miracle happened in SA. A South African showed how it was possible to fix things inside. A heart was transplanted. Some dismissed this as tricking God or cheating death but Chris Barnard knows that all he did was buy us a little time.
Lets not forget the other Chris, Chris Hani and Nelson and Steve. They all knew this too and paid a huge price to buy some time.
Time for a Soul transplant. In Jerusalem one man died so that we might live? In SA many men died and maybe the really big miracle is still happening. What is a miracle but a massive contradiction. In SA we are living a miracle daily, in fact SA is a living miracle. One day people might find a computer disc or clay pot which when interpreted will carry the legend of a great civilisation with great leaders who built things. This won’t happen unless we see what we are and then go tell someone. The lungs of the earth are the rainforests, the heart perhaps the U.K., USA or Europe, the remaining organs can be assigned but what is missing is the Soul which is in SA. We know what happens if the Soul dies.So if we are ever going to be proud to be South African, black or white, maybe all we have to do is see that we are in the right place at the right time, see what we are or what we have the potential to be and what we can do. You won’t believe how far that can reach.
We can guess at what the sixth sense is and it will have a different slant for each one of us. I believe that as humans we have a seventh and more senses but the seventh is that which unites us. It is a sense of Being Human and a sense of Belonging. Mother nature or the nature of the Mother can only really be universally experienced in South Africa. In the country where black women raised white children with no bitterness or malice, with no reward or recompense to speak of, at least not in this life, in fact with extraordinary devotion and love. Everywhere else in the world we are humbled by nature or we “humble” it. We are isolated or alienated from nature and only return to de-stress or unwind. There are many beautiful places in the world that we escape to according to our means, creating memories and leaving mementoes (mostly litter). Sadly there is a sense that nature is subordinate, such is the way of our various western egocentric consciousnesses (consciencelessnesses), we visit condescendingly and return home “renewed”. I think we are missing the point.
Regeneration is the goal and we can settle for nothing less. In South Africa lies the possibility of Regeneration. In South Africa there is a sense of Being Home, a sense, not of humbling you or of quieting your soul but of making you understand that you belong. In many ways this is not a holiday destination, nor should that be the intent of the traveller to these parts.We have the possibility of creating a civilisation, that is what the African Renaissance is about. We need to take the time and the care and have patience, some people have already paid a huge price. Our attitude must not be “how do we beat that” or “how can we compete with that”. We don’t have to if we create something new and unique, we have all the materials. Time is both our worst enemy and our best friend. Most of us will not be around (in the final sense) to see the real fruits of the work that must begin now. How do we start something knowing we may never see its conclusion? What is a miracle but a massive contradiction (would suffice).
In South Africa where we sit on the side of the road the secret is that we are regenerating. Come home where you belong, put up your feet, relax see what you are and let Grace serve you………..
The legacy, apartheid and oppression, the debt absorbed, the Soul retrieved. It is up to us to live the completion of creation.
I believe that our reactive society prevents us from seeing the magic and any communication needs to somehow convey the message so that we can stop apologising and making excuses. Retrieving a Soul Quote: R. W. Emerson “Jesus Christ belonged to the true race of prophets. He saw with an open eye the mystery of the Soul. Drawn by its severe harmony, ravished with all its beauty, he lived in it, and had his being there. Alone in all history, he estimated the greatness of man. One man was true to what is in you and me. He saw that God incarnates himself in man, and ever more goes forth anew to take possession of his world. He said in this jubilee of sublime emotion, “I am divine. Through me God acts; through me speaks. Would you see God, see me; or see thee, when thou thinkest as I now think.”
What is the difference between a culture and a civilization and what might unite them or fuse them? A Soul? For the purpose of this discussion or task let us assume that the collective consciousness of South Africa is united. What do we mean by collective consciousness? There have been many descriptions of this phenomenon mostly characterized by a group identity, sense of humour, negative sentiment (doomsayers resistant to change or progress), a state being where it is characterized by fear or paranoia (violence stats.) or sense of inadequacy especially when applied to the developing countries in relation to the developed world. We might have the luxury of describing this state as a consciousness in formation or in an early stage of evolution but making progress, hold that thought.
If we perceive this united consciousness as a single person and forget the complexity that makes up this person or psyche, then we may see that this person is evolving. The hardship or friction they may be experiencing at any one time can be seen philosophically (in retrospect perhaps) to be the only thing that could have happened at that time to make them grow or progress to their next stage of evolution. The only thing that prevents them from seeing this fact is that they can’t see. They are in fact a bunch of thoughts, opinions, fears, regrets, reconciliation’s. In fact with all these thoughts they can’t see what they are, let alone what they should do.
It could be said that this person through all their trials, doubts and fears was evolving into a new state of Being but perhaps only if they realise what is happening to them and behave in a way which allows this to happen. If they do this they might be able to become what they are supposed to become and actually evolve.This new state of Being displays some remarkable but familiar behaviour. Listed these may include humility, empathy, tolerance, which collectively might be summed up as a “State of Grace”. In fact these familiar emotions are not emotions at all, they are a state Being that we are evolving into.
A significant proportion of South Africans were surprised but relieved that when Nelson Mandela and others were released from prison there was not a rampage of revenge and bloodshed. Perhaps this new state of Being doesn’t need revenge. In fact not only did this new state of Being not take vengeance, they accommodated the “enemy” and bent over backwards to make them feel that they belonged. This is a peculiarly South African characteristic, we are, I believe, the most hospitable, accommodating nation on earth. This thread unites us, black, white and everything in between. There is a strange something that, only here, makes it possible to be truly cosmopolitan. Everybody who comes here is made to feel at home, like they belong. As hard as we try to behave in this way as individuals from all our different perspectives and fears perhaps there is something else that unites us. Maybe Africa is home, a place where we can put up our feet, be silent, rest and recuperate, regenerate. Maybe Southern and South Africa is that place where we can all come to regenerate, to realise that we are evolving. A place where we can in a sense shed our skin and accept graciously this new state of Being. It can only happen where we belong, in the wilderness, in silence. If we tell people this in the simplest way they may also realise that this place, home, is where they need to come to find relaxation and respite, the only real opportunity to regenerate, something not available elsewhere. Maybe the only way to explain it is to tell the world to come home. That this is the only place where you can come and experience this new state of Being, what it feels like to be human.
Throughout history the great civilisations have one thing in common. They gave everyone a chance to feel what it was like to be human. Maybe South Africa will be considered to be the next great civilisation….It won’t if we don’t see what we are and what we are becoming. Whatever we do and whoever we are we all need to go home sometime to understand what it feels like to be human because we are human for a reason. Not only are we human for a reason, but male and female, rich and poor, black and white for the same reason. As each individual must learn to know themselves through their own eyes, their own perceptions, naked and raw, they must learn to see, so must a nation or a country or a civilisation. At best the current perception of itself (SA) must seem psychotic if not schizophrenic. This quest for seeing or perception is how we must begin to find our relationship with the world around us, it is our navigational tool. As the individual must take stock of what and who they are to begin regeneration so must the civilisation. As the individual or civilisation begins to see they will also know how far they can see, who they can reach, and in context, their role in the order of things will extract itself. They see what they are.This perceiving quest is how we must begin to find our relationship with the world around us. As the individual must take stock of what and who they are (take back their power) to complete their own creation, they will see how far they can see, who they can reach and in context their role in the order of things will extract itself.
The responsibility to take that essence (SA = Healing and Regeneration?) and in turn complete its creation becomes a part of the perceiving quest and a new mythology is born, one in which we unfold our own myth. The responsibility in the context of SA is perhaps more about perceiving or seeing itself before others can see it.
The real cost of Aids is emotional and spiritual, that death is priceless. This is what we have to tell the world. Not that we’ve beaten it through science and technology or suppression or interpretation of the facts, but through understanding. The only price to pay for Aids is that of not understanding, then we fight the war of inflation and poverty on other peoples turf and terms.
South Africa is one of the only places in the world where you can cultivate understanding but we know as South Africans we can cultivate that in most climates. In the late 60’s while everyone was focussing on the USA going to the moon a miracle happened in SA. A South African showed how it was possible to fix things inside. A heart was transplanted. Some dismissed this as tricking God or cheating death but Chris Barnard knows that all he did was buy us a little time.
Lets not forget the other Chris, Chris Hani and Nelson and Steve. They all knew this too and paid a huge price to buy some time.
Time for a Soul transplant. In Jerusalem one man died so that we might live? In SA many men died and maybe the really big miracle is still happening. What is a miracle but a massive contradiction. In SA we are living a miracle daily, in fact SA is a living miracle. One day people might find a computer disc or clay pot which when interpreted will carry the legend of a great civilisation with great leaders who built things. This won’t happen unless we see what we are and then go tell someone. The lungs of the earth are the rainforests, the heart perhaps the U.K., USA or Europe, the remaining organs can be assigned but what is missing is the Soul which is in SA. We know what happens if the Soul dies.So if we are ever going to be proud to be South African, black or white, maybe all we have to do is see that we are in the right place at the right time, see what we are or what we have the potential to be and what we can do. You won’t believe how far that can reach.
We can guess at what the sixth sense is and it will have a different slant for each one of us. I believe that as humans we have a seventh and more senses but the seventh is that which unites us. It is a sense of Being Human and a sense of Belonging. Mother nature or the nature of the Mother can only really be universally experienced in South Africa. In the country where black women raised white children with no bitterness or malice, with no reward or recompense to speak of, at least not in this life, in fact with extraordinary devotion and love. Everywhere else in the world we are humbled by nature or we “humble” it. We are isolated or alienated from nature and only return to de-stress or unwind. There are many beautiful places in the world that we escape to according to our means, creating memories and leaving mementoes (mostly litter). Sadly there is a sense that nature is subordinate, such is the way of our various western egocentric consciousnesses (consciencelessnesses), we visit condescendingly and return home “renewed”. I think we are missing the point.
Regeneration is the goal and we can settle for nothing less. In South Africa lies the possibility of Regeneration. In South Africa there is a sense of Being Home, a sense, not of humbling you or of quieting your soul but of making you understand that you belong. In many ways this is not a holiday destination, nor should that be the intent of the traveller to these parts.We have the possibility of creating a civilisation, that is what the African Renaissance is about. We need to take the time and the care and have patience, some people have already paid a huge price. Our attitude must not be “how do we beat that” or “how can we compete with that”. We don’t have to if we create something new and unique, we have all the materials. Time is both our worst enemy and our best friend. Most of us will not be around (in the final sense) to see the real fruits of the work that must begin now. How do we start something knowing we may never see its conclusion? What is a miracle but a massive contradiction (would suffice).
In South Africa where we sit on the side of the road the secret is that we are regenerating. Come home where you belong, put up your feet, relax see what you are and let Grace serve you………..
The legacy, apartheid and oppression, the debt absorbed, the Soul retrieved. It is up to us to live the completion of creation.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
The Hairy Book
In December 2008 the first words of a book were penned. Many have said that I should write a book and finally it is so that I am. Finally I am motivated enough to do so.
It will take some time to complete as the story will be a long one and will eventually encompass and represent all that I am as a person.
Its chapters will be varied and will tell a story that I hope will inspire anyone who reads it when it is ready to be read!
It will be a tale of dreams fulfilled.
It will be the truth of how quiet, buried ambitions can be realised with patience and persistence.
It will take some time to complete as the story will be a long one and will eventually encompass and represent all that I am as a person.
Its chapters will be varied and will tell a story that I hope will inspire anyone who reads it when it is ready to be read!
It will be a tale of dreams fulfilled.
It will be the truth of how quiet, buried ambitions can be realised with patience and persistence.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
2009 - have a good one everyone
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you."
Something to think about as we start the year.
Or more simply put:
CARPE DIEM
Something to think about as we start the year.
Or more simply put:
CARPE DIEM
Saturday, September 27, 2008
20 years
A lot happens in 20 years.
A lot changes in 20 years and yet so much is actually the same.
I have just realised in the last few days that it was 20 years ago that I graduated with a degree. The fact that I have one always mildly surprises me, but the reality is that I am “degreed” as is said nowadays. I had a very amusing email exchange about that word with a gentleman that I work for who probably figured that it was grammatically incorrect. Well, considering I was educated in three languages, I won’t be far wrong to say that in all likelihood I have better grammar skills than most on the planet.
20 years…. A lot has happened in 20 years and the reality is that I am nowhere in my life that I really expected to be and at the same time have done so much that I did not expect to do at all.
Most significant of all that I have achieved is being a father. I have always wanted to be a good father, but often fail at it and it now consumes me at all times to be a better father every day. A better man for the benefit of my children
The challenge is to be able to manage my own ambitions and dreams and be the father that my children deserve at all times.
I recently spent a month with them and for the first time since becoming a father some 15 years ago, I realised how much they do actually need me. My input, my love, my unconditional support.
To know that is, in itself, is the greatest achievement of the last 20 years. Nothing else compares to that knowledge.
The rest is irrelevant.
A lot changes in 20 years and yet so much is actually the same.
I have just realised in the last few days that it was 20 years ago that I graduated with a degree. The fact that I have one always mildly surprises me, but the reality is that I am “degreed” as is said nowadays. I had a very amusing email exchange about that word with a gentleman that I work for who probably figured that it was grammatically incorrect. Well, considering I was educated in three languages, I won’t be far wrong to say that in all likelihood I have better grammar skills than most on the planet.
20 years…. A lot has happened in 20 years and the reality is that I am nowhere in my life that I really expected to be and at the same time have done so much that I did not expect to do at all.
Most significant of all that I have achieved is being a father. I have always wanted to be a good father, but often fail at it and it now consumes me at all times to be a better father every day. A better man for the benefit of my children
The challenge is to be able to manage my own ambitions and dreams and be the father that my children deserve at all times.
I recently spent a month with them and for the first time since becoming a father some 15 years ago, I realised how much they do actually need me. My input, my love, my unconditional support.
To know that is, in itself, is the greatest achievement of the last 20 years. Nothing else compares to that knowledge.
The rest is irrelevant.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Prams & Pushchairs
England.... the land of prams and pushchairs..... pushchairs and prams. The land of barely adult people trying to raise yet another generation of more people in a land where no one is to blame and no one is prepared to accept responsibility for anything. A land where there is no authority, no discipline; where parents have become neutered by an overwhelmingly pathetic popular sense that discipline is bad. Young people who have been brought up with no moral or social compass, no guidance, no rules, no manners, all now trying to bring up yet another of generation of people who will be less......... well, just less of everything.
Pushchairs and prams, prams and pushchairs.
Horrendous bloody place it is. Rule Britannia my arse.
Pushchairs and prams, prams and pushchairs.
Horrendous bloody place it is. Rule Britannia my arse.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The truth
"The truth, like a cork in water, will always rise to the top"
My dear friend and former Chairman, Gio Cantarella, used to drum this in to everyone that cared to listen and indeed he is right. In the fullness of time the truth will prevail.
This applies to us all, in our private lives, our family lives and our commercial and professional lives.
No one escapes it.
Of course, the truth is not always what we would want others to believe it to be, but the truth is the truth and is inescapable.
About two yeas ago I was entertained on a number of occasions by a dear old retired General, the former Vice President of the country I was in at the time. He seemed like any one's wonderful grandfather or elderly uncle. His wife is grandmotherly and always insisted on serving cakes and snacks and some wonderful varieties of tea, the most notable of which was a Ginger tea that made one's hair stand on end.
People came and went and as befitting his status he was bowed to and all sorts of more junior people including ministers of the country in which we were would literally bow at his feet and touch his hand to their foreheads as a sign of respect as part of the local culture.
Now the truth is that this man was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. Literally hundreds. Not soldiers in combat as one may think, but hundreds (at least) of innocent people fighting and struggling for their freedom.
A truth.
A gentle old grandfather.
Really? A gentle grandfather with blood dripping silently and invisibly from his hands...
Were his actions justifiable? To him and other yes. To the remaining family members of those who died, no.
How will Nelson Mandela be remembered? What will his "truth" be?
Of course we know the obvious answer to that. However, no one should forget the entire history of the man...
And ultimately, the truth like a cork in water will rise to the top.
My dear friend and former Chairman, Gio Cantarella, used to drum this in to everyone that cared to listen and indeed he is right. In the fullness of time the truth will prevail.
This applies to us all, in our private lives, our family lives and our commercial and professional lives.
No one escapes it.
Of course, the truth is not always what we would want others to believe it to be, but the truth is the truth and is inescapable.
About two yeas ago I was entertained on a number of occasions by a dear old retired General, the former Vice President of the country I was in at the time. He seemed like any one's wonderful grandfather or elderly uncle. His wife is grandmotherly and always insisted on serving cakes and snacks and some wonderful varieties of tea, the most notable of which was a Ginger tea that made one's hair stand on end.
People came and went and as befitting his status he was bowed to and all sorts of more junior people including ministers of the country in which we were would literally bow at his feet and touch his hand to their foreheads as a sign of respect as part of the local culture.
Now the truth is that this man was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. Literally hundreds. Not soldiers in combat as one may think, but hundreds (at least) of innocent people fighting and struggling for their freedom.
A truth.
A gentle old grandfather.
Really? A gentle grandfather with blood dripping silently and invisibly from his hands...
Were his actions justifiable? To him and other yes. To the remaining family members of those who died, no.
How will Nelson Mandela be remembered? What will his "truth" be?
Of course we know the obvious answer to that. However, no one should forget the entire history of the man...
And ultimately, the truth like a cork in water will rise to the top.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Boring Blogs
My own blog has begun to bore me!!! Not all of it, but it has become repetitive recently for which I apologise to the few of you who read it occasionally. Time for my own original thoughts here... watch this space.
Monday, July 14, 2008
The amazingly well educated traveling public...
THE following questions have been posed to tourism offices across South Africa.
Q: Does it ever get windy in South Africa? I have never seen it raining on TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK)A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around watching them die.
Q: Will I be able to see elephants in the street? (USA) A: Depends how much you've been drinking.
Q: I want to walk from Durban to Cape Town - can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden) A: Sure, it's only two thousand kilometres, take lots of water...
Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in South Africa? (Sweden) A: So it's true what they say about Swedes...?
Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in South Africa? Can you send me a list of them in JHB, Cape Town, Knysna and Jeffrey's Bay? (UK) A: ....and what did your last slave die of?
Q: Can you give me some information about koala bear racing in South Africa? (USA) A: Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific. A-fri-ca is the big triangle-shaped continent south of Europe which does not... oh forget it. Sure, the koala bear racing is every Tuesday night in Hillbrow. Come naked.
Q: Which direction is north in South Africa? (USA)A: Face south and then turn 90 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.
Q: Can I bring cutlery into South Africa? (UK) A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.
Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA) A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is... oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys’ Choir plays every Tuesday night in Hillbrow, straight after the koala bear races. Come naked.
Q: Do you have perfume in South Africa? (France) A: No, WE don't stink.
Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in South Africa? (USA) A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.
Q: Can you tell me the regions in South Africa where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy) A: Yes. Gay nightclubs.
Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in South Africa? (France) A: Only at Christmas
Q: Are there killer bees in South Africa? (Germany) A: Not yet, but for you, we'll import them.
Q: Are there supermarkets in Cape Town and is milk available all year round? (Germany) A: No, we are a peaceful civilisation of vegan hunter-gatherers. Milk is illegal.
Q: Please send a list of all doctors in South Africa who can dispense rattlesnake serum. (USA)A: Rattlesnakes live in A-me-ri-ca, which is where YOU come from. All South African snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make good pets.
Q: I was in South Africa in 1969, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Hillbrow. Can you help? (USA)A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.
Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA) A: Yes, but you'll have to learn it first.
Source: http://www.travelhub.co.za/
Q: Does it ever get windy in South Africa? I have never seen it raining on TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK)A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around watching them die.
Q: Will I be able to see elephants in the street? (USA) A: Depends how much you've been drinking.
Q: I want to walk from Durban to Cape Town - can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden) A: Sure, it's only two thousand kilometres, take lots of water...
Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in South Africa? (Sweden) A: So it's true what they say about Swedes...?
Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in South Africa? Can you send me a list of them in JHB, Cape Town, Knysna and Jeffrey's Bay? (UK) A: ....and what did your last slave die of?
Q: Can you give me some information about koala bear racing in South Africa? (USA) A: Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific. A-fri-ca is the big triangle-shaped continent south of Europe which does not... oh forget it. Sure, the koala bear racing is every Tuesday night in Hillbrow. Come naked.
Q: Which direction is north in South Africa? (USA)A: Face south and then turn 90 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.
Q: Can I bring cutlery into South Africa? (UK) A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.
Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA) A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is... oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys’ Choir plays every Tuesday night in Hillbrow, straight after the koala bear races. Come naked.
Q: Do you have perfume in South Africa? (France) A: No, WE don't stink.
Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in South Africa? (USA) A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.
Q: Can you tell me the regions in South Africa where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy) A: Yes. Gay nightclubs.
Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in South Africa? (France) A: Only at Christmas
Q: Are there killer bees in South Africa? (Germany) A: Not yet, but for you, we'll import them.
Q: Are there supermarkets in Cape Town and is milk available all year round? (Germany) A: No, we are a peaceful civilisation of vegan hunter-gatherers. Milk is illegal.
Q: Please send a list of all doctors in South Africa who can dispense rattlesnake serum. (USA)A: Rattlesnakes live in A-me-ri-ca, which is where YOU come from. All South African snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make good pets.
Q: I was in South Africa in 1969, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Hillbrow. Can you help? (USA)A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.
Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA) A: Yes, but you'll have to learn it first.
Source: http://www.travelhub.co.za/
Sunday, July 13, 2008
July 13 2008
A rare day with a family of cousins in one place together.
Ben and Dani.
Megan, Jesse, Jake and Wendy.
Ruby and Sylvie.
Teddy and Abi.
Surrounded by their parents (except myself and George Williams) and by the Leed grandparents on the occassion of Ben's 7th birthday.
I am sad that I was not there and I am sure that my brother-in-law George feels the same.
It may be many years until the children are all in the same place at the same time and I hope that they leave each other today with happy memories and that the "leaving" is not too rushed.
Love you all!!
Ben and Dani.
Megan, Jesse, Jake and Wendy.
Ruby and Sylvie.
Teddy and Abi.
Surrounded by their parents (except myself and George Williams) and by the Leed grandparents on the occassion of Ben's 7th birthday.
I am sad that I was not there and I am sure that my brother-in-law George feels the same.
It may be many years until the children are all in the same place at the same time and I hope that they leave each other today with happy memories and that the "leaving" is not too rushed.
Love you all!!
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