Welcome to the Age of Aquarius (Part 1) by Elsabe Smit

I am sure you are familiar with the line “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius” from the musical Hair from the 60s.

Guess what? We are right inside the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. But what does it mean?

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The constellations change to a new zodiac sign roughly every 2 150 years. I am using the word “roughly” because time is a man-made concept that helps us cope with this dimension. The stars and the stellar system follow their own waves, and they are not interested in the clocks and calendars that we use on earth.

The dawning of the Age of Aquarius indicates that we have been coming out of the Age of Pisces, and we are now entering the new Age of Aquarius.

The last time we had an Age of Aquarius was around 13 000 years ago, during Babylonian times. Legend says that the Age of Aquarius begins when the March equinox point moves out of the constellation Pisces and into the constellation Aquarius.

Did this happen in March 2020? Or before that? Or even in the previous century? Apparently, astrologers cannot give us a definitive answer – which does not surprise me, because the stars follow their own rules. The planets don’t operate on earthly rhythms. They wander around like drunken flies, but at the same time with a clear sense of destiny and direction. If you want to see how the planets move, start studying crop circles and their beautiful patterns.

I suspect we have made that shift from Pisces to Aquarius a while ago, and this is now clearly reflected in what is happening around is.

Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac, and contains elements of all the previous zodiac signs. Pisces was the swan song of a previous era. That means the Age of Aquarius is a new beginning, not only of a new zodiac sign, but of a new era of around 13 000 years.

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We left the Age of Pisces with a deep sense of knowing and a focus on faith. Over the past 2 000 years humanity did a lot of introspection and wanted answers about creativity, spirituality and intuition. We were all taught about altruism and self-sacrifice – and we had to learn all these things, because in previous eras we did everything we could to destroy each other.

The Age of Aquarius is a completely new beginning, with a mantra of “I know”. This is not the opposite of faith. Instead, this is an age where we can prove what we have intuitively known for millennia.

Of course, this comes with a lot of new knowledge and reform for humanity.

Can we blame a virus for this change? Yes, the virus and the completely irrational response to the virus has rubbed our noses int o the fact that nothing will be the same again.

However, we are still looking for getting back to the status quo, when in fact there has been a new status quo for many years – and it has got nothing to do with shopping and exercising.

Do you remember how the Law of Attraction has swept the spiritual world a few years ago? And there were the books on Conversations with God and A Course in Miracles and Gary Renard’s amazing book The Disappearance of the Universe?

All of those books, and many others, clearly indicated that the old rules no longer work. These works give us guidelines on navigating a new world. If you have those books, do yourself a favour and read them again.

But the wave of change did not stop there.

The meaning of Life by Franky Van Den Berg

As I sit here, attempting to compose a hopefully not too elaborate introduction about myself, about why I’m sitting here…

I’m known by many names: Franky, animal activist, microbiologist, the forever student, personal trainer, aspiring power-builder, vegan, spiritualist, pagan (wrongfully named by ignorant beings not knowing of better) or witch, cancer survivor, motivational speaker (although I still stand by that I’m only pointing out the facts), miracle…and all are true. When viewing it laid out so objectively it is challenging to imagine how it all could germinate from a single origin. The same goes for my reputation. Someone may speak fondly of me, whereas another may hold a grudge against me and again, all are true. Compartmentalizing my introduction into a ‘Before’, ‘The Event’ and ‘After’ may be more elegant.

I was an average human being, a personal trainer and student who enjoyed the typical things in life: spending time with my furbabies, ‘hitting’ another personal record (PR) and completing studies step by step. Life as I knew it changed abruptly one weekend.

I suffered horrific stomach pain for which no remedy brought relief. I’m told I went to bed a Sunday night and screamed in pain. Rushed to the hospital I was admitted and underwent an emergency operation. (I said I was told, as I have no recollection of these 24 hours). A burst stomach cancer tumor was removed and the damage was contained to the maximum extent. I nonetheless suffered two heart attacks while under and did not awaken until three weeks later…well, not to this realm, in any case. I experienced realms and interacted with beings I can write novels about, but sharing those extraordinary and life changing events would not feel appropriate.

My medical condition was so poor I was kept in a separate ICU unit as nor doctors nor nurses thought I had any chance of survival. Spoiler alert: I did. What I do want to share however, is those ‘three weeks’ (that was in fact four months, if I allow the passing of time according to Otherworldly ‘physics’). I’ve changed in more aspects than I can explore in one lifetime. My way of thinking has been entirely altered. I know just how little we do know. That is the beauty of Life: to be the Eternal Student with the Universe as the Eternal Teacher. I am a proud and ecstatic first-grader who had a productive day at class and is ready to run home and share it with everyone. And that is exactly what I will be doing here: sharing messages and lessons with anyone willing to spend their time of day listening. Lessons about what our souls need, about how to be a happier human being, how to be healthier mentally, physically and spiritually. About the meaning of Life.

The Gift of Fear by Karin Kelly Lawrenz

Our culture vilifies fear. But like any emotion, fear is neither bad nor good. Each emotion has an evolutionary purpose. They all have vital messages for us if we dare to listen. What matters, what makes the difference is what we do with each emotion, how we react to it.

Fear, after all, has allowed humans and the rest of our mammalian family to survive eons, to survive unspeakable dangers. At its core, fear protects life. It fights for life. Many think it is a life-stopping emotion, but think of the many times fear has kept you or those you love safe. Think of the times it has warned you. Sent you brilliant intuitions. Kicked in your instincts, your highest most ingenious response. Protected that which needed protecting. Fear keeps us alive. It is vital. But when in shadow, when unconscious or when wounded, fear can harm in a misguided attempt to protect.

But fear itself is not, as so many teach, the opposite of love. In fact, we can use our fear to love better, love more, love deeper. We can use fear to care for ourselves and others, in ways that benefit all, beyond our immediate circle, beyond our town, our nation, our species.

We can use fear to innovate, to collaborate, to intuit the future and create solutions, to unify instead of polarize, to pay attention to and prioritize who and what needs our care, to prepare for change, to get to the bottom of issues instead of pointing fingers in blame. Yes, fear even has the ability to lessen our hate and our blame *if* we use fear wisely, if we use it consciously.

But few emotions we find more uncomfortable than fear. Few emotions we blame so many of our personal and societal woes on. Yet, as long as we condemn fear, keep it at arms length, react to it with minimal awareness or demand to replace it with easier emotions, it will incapacitate us. Instead of having fear, it will have us. As long as it is misunderstood and disparaged it will remain unconscious. And the more unconscious it is, the more invisible power it will have over us.

Fear itself is not the problem. It is our fear of fear. Our hatred of fear. Our desire to get as far away from fear that becomes a problem. It is our inability to sit with anxiety that leads to the inability to sit with others different than ourselves. It is our hatred of fear that leads to unjustified hatred of others, to othering, to violence, to greed. It is our inability to be intimate with what we are afraid of that squanders away our lives, that keeps us from living, that attempts to keep us and those around us small. Not fear itself.

Now more than ever our personal and collective fear is demanding our attention, our care, our healing, our consciousness. Now more than ever fear is asking for its redemption. If instead we were to listen to fear’s calls, loud as they are now, urgent as they are now…If instead we were to move with compassion into our bodies and our minds and our hearts where our anxiety dwells and get intimate with what is there, we could use fear to heal and protect not just our own life, but all of life.

So during this time of fear, when it grips you in the night or follows you quietly through the day, instead of compulsively reacting to it, why not move gently towards it. What does it feel like, look like, sound like? How old does it feel? Is it you at 5 years old, or 10 or 30? What is it asking of you? What is the deeper fear? What of it is founded? What of it is not? Is part of it coming from an old script, an old wound? What does this part of you truly need? To know you won’t abandon yourself, even if things got hard? To hold tenderly the uncertainty of all things? To find your true center? To find something more secure and real to stand upon? Who in you can sit with this fear, can tolerate it? Who in you cannot?

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It is, however, absolutely understandable that we are so afraid of this particular emotion. Because as many who venture into their fears discover, underneath all the anxiety is often a fear of the unknown, and beneath the fear of the unknown, is a fear of death. Being with fear then is an act of the utmost bravery. It means facing some of the most difficult and uncomfortable aspects of being human. Being with fear means being with that delicate and difficult dance between the fight for life and the honouring of death…Our desire to live and an acceptance that we do not live forever, and the great mystery that follows there. But it is in this tension, in the discomfort of our fears that the potential of life can finally fully expand and extend its reach. With no restrictions placed upon it, life can finally breathe and flower and grow. Life can finally live.

While it is true that sometimes our unconscious reaction to fear cuts off life, it is also true then, that a more conscious reaction can do just the opposite. It can bring more life, to not just ourselves but the world as well.

Parental Abuse by Debbie Jordaan

It’s a subject very few people talk about. What I’m going to write about is based on experience from friends and family members and of my times as a carer. The way children treat their parents.
When I look at it I see that if children were brought up with a deserving mentality they as adults demand from the parent but little do they realise they have to work for what they want. A parent works for something their whole life and these deserving children want without any idea of what their parent went through to get what they have.

As a person gets older they want less drama and responsibility and in swoops this child that thinks they are going to grab the opportunity to control the parent and whatever else. A business for instance. They forget it took the parent years to get the business to success and they start telling the parent what the said parent needs. First of all the child changes everything, disregards the needs of the workers and demands respect all of a sudden. Then him and he’s wife try to control the father and he’s daily living withholding he’s own money from him. The father thought he’s doing a good thing by letting he’s son take over.
I grew up being taught that you work for what you want or you work for what you get. I taught my two daughters as many things as I could which my mum had taught me. It’s trivial what it is you are working for just do it as no one else should be doing it for you if you are able bodied.

 

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Another case study is of a mother that gives her all to her children to the maximum and beyond. She is going through financial problems now and her glorified children two adults that don’t work tell her she’s not good enough she can’t even take care of them. Okay so they have both worked before, had children that my friend is taking care of because they say she’s not a good enough grandma. Okay so who made those grand-kids? The daughter calls her mother a whore and a useless parent and she wishes her mother aborted. That to me is mental abuse.
Then you get a mother who lives with her son and he tells her what to do daily. If he says no she just agrees. Is he hitting her or is it just the fact that she is elderly and has lost her fight. Like some children he has nothing. He sold her things for drugs and he’s sibling is also a drug addict. The mother molly coddles them yet her other son runs he’s departed fathers business. He has sober habits and good values. Where did it all go wrong?
As people get older their children want to dictate as I’m sure their only thought is if their parents have assets that they have to keep an eye on the parent in case they spend the money then they have nothing to inherit. Now on the flip side there are wonderful children out there. They take care of their parents. They give back what was given to them. Wish my mom were still alive. I’d die for her. So where does the problem lie? Is it the parents fault for molly coddling the children or is it the child who has a deserving mentality?
In conclusion my opinion is that we as parents must think before spoiling the children to the point that they becoming deserving human beings. We love our children but maybe by teaching them good moral values and work for what you want our future leaders just might be worth their weight in gold.
Be safe and be blessed.

Mother’s Day by Grazia Martienssen

As we approach Mother’s Day, I thought I would share a bit about my own mom, along with some poems I wrote for the cards I made to sell. With lockdown and loss of income I thought part of my sharing would be the poems, for anyone who would like to copy them to make their own cards.
Mom 24/4/1935 – 29/4/ 1988 (†)
Mom was the youngest of 3 sisters in Lake Como Italy, Dervio to be exact. Growing up, she was very much a free spirited, tomboyish type of girl. She went up to grade 5 (Quinta elementare), Which was normal in those days. Her passion was knitting, and she would make and sell things on the knitting machine my grandfather had bought for her. She was also excellent at knitting by hand and would recycle old wool to make new things.

When she was young, she also worked as a maid for neighbours as the umbrella factory in Dervio where her sisters worked, was not hiring people when she left school. She met dad in 1957 and they married in 1959. She became a housewife and I remember holding wool and helping her pull old jerseys apart as she sorted out the wool to make new ones. When dad opened his salon in Bellville there was a little shop nearby that would buy some of her knitting.

Mom loved animals and the birds would nest in the trees in our garden and allow her to see the babies. She was extremely sensitive, e.g. one day I had to vacuum the lounge but as she was speaking to the milkman I stood waiting for them to finish, only to get a mouthful when he left, because she said he was a poor man and asked if I was I trying to show off with what we have because we had more than him. She was also strict; my youngest brother often tells the story of when he faked to be sick one day to skip school. When my other brothers and I left for school, he wanted to get up, but mom made him stay in bed all day! If I spoke badly about anyone she’d tell me who was I to judge because I wasn’t and had never been in that person’s shoes.

When dad opened his last salon in Parow, things didn’t go well as he was sickly. As a result, mom started going with him to help. She worked on the till and would wash people’s hair and help out where she could with the odd things. On the 29th of April 1988 as my parents were leaving the salon in the evening, a car came speeding along and hit her and she died instantly .Mom had an extremely high level of intuition. On her last day she was very happy and singing beautifully .My question is, did she feel or anticipate something?
My poems

1st Poem
You are a wonderful mother your smile is so bright,
You love unconditionally morning, noon and night
You listen and care you wipe away tears.
Thank you for being our sweet mother dear.

2nd Poem
To a mother so sweet so loving and caring
Who shares her love and her time.
Who gives of herself without tiring
I am so glad that mother is mine.

3rd Poem
A Mother is a shoulder to cry on.
A friend to talk to
Someone who always listens
She’s patient kind and loving
All this and so much more.
Thank you, mom, for always doing your best.

4th Poem
Mum you are a pillar of strength a tower of love
A source of inspiration
Everything a mother does is done with dedication.
A mother helps us through our trials and all our tribulations
We’re so lucky to be blessed with the best mum in the nation.
Happy Mother’s Day & thank you for everything.

“Lost in Translation” Grazia Martienssen

“Lost in Translation”

Language problems can be frustrating however, when you look back you can have a good laugh.

My mom used to tell a story about a time when she wanted to buy a broom, and my paternal auntie who had been in South Africa for a few years already, had told her it was called brush. So off she went asking the salespeople for a brush, and as you can imagine, they showed her all kinds of brushes. Eventually out of frustration, she ran out the shop, grabbed a broom out of a street sweeper’s hands and went back in with the poor guy behind her shouting, “madam my broom!!!”.

Another time, when I was 8 or 9 years old my mom woke us up late for school one morning. As we attended a catholic school (Nazareth House), she told us to tell the nun that the clock had stopped, and she hadn’t realised the time. As if the original message getting translated from a second language English speaker wasn’t bad enough, try getting a child to relay that message. The result was, “Mom said the clock went backwards”. Just imagine the look on the nun’s face!

Initially, my dad also didn’t have much luck in that department. He was a hairdresser and would often tell stories of getting into trouble at work. People would ask for a perm or a tint and he’d pick up a scissors to start cutting their hair instead.

“Reading helped”

Mom loved reading and started reading English as much as possible. She’d read romances and anything with pictures that she could find. Over the years she just about perfected her English. Poor dad was a talented man, but maybe not so much when it came to languages however, it did improve to a point where he could at least communicate. I also loved reading like mom. It was one of the subjects I was good at, and I feel this is what helped me with spelling over the years. Writing was of course more difficult for my parents as they needed help if they had to write anything down.
“Culture Differences”

Off course the culture was also different as suddenly we had to call all adults “aunties” and “uncles”. In Italy only true aunties and uncles were called that, other adults were addressed with Mr, Mrs or Miss. So as you can imagine, I was confused and kept asking mom where all these relatives were coming from, but I don’t think she knew how to answer. One day I went to the library and addressed a woman as “auntie.” Surprisingly, she gave me a mouthful, and said she was “coloured,” so I shouldn’t have called her auntie. Understandably, I had no idea what she was talking about, which resulted in me ending up even more confused than before. I’m not sure how old I was, but I couldn’t have been more than 10 years old. At this point, I didn’t know who to address as auntie and uncle, or when I’d get into trouble for doing so. I didn’t tell my parents because if I had done something wrong then I would have been in trouble at home as well.

“Not an issue”

In my family race was never an issue. No matter who visited us, we all sat at the same table and ate together. It didn’t matter if it was a just a visitor or someone who worked for us such as the gardener, the maid or a hairdresser at dad’s salon. Regardless of race, everybody was invited to our house at one point or another. In fact, people of all races came to offer their condolences when my parents passed away. My final thought is that we need to look beyond our cultural and linguistic differences in life. This could mean something as simple as just accepting or appreciating another person’s language or culture. Ultimately, our language and culture determine the way we see the world and is what makes every one of us unique. Keep laughing, keep smiling and thanks for reading.

Mother Nature by Debbie Jordaan

Good day to all our readers. Regular readers and new readers. Without you our thoughts would be exactly just what they are.

With the world being on lockdown we all try to stay sane by practicing our religions and try fill the time with things we never get the chance to do. We all have different religious views and values but I think we can all agree on the fact that Mother Nature has found a way to regenerate herself as the world is over populated and the damage done to her by humans is reprehensible. Mother Nature doesn’t ask to be praised – She asks to be respected.

Every day we are destroying Earth and not noticing the extremities of our actions. Looking back at history one wonders how civilizations just got destroyed? I don’t think we need to wonder much – Mother Nature took control. Look at the damage being done to oceans, over fishing and pollution. That’s just the oceans not even to speak about the land. There are people trying to restore the Earth but it’s a drop in the bucket because as they are try to fix things the other people are destroying vegetation. Some people need to be educated on over population worldwide as their cultures say that the more children they have the more blessed they will be. This over population is causing famine and droughts leaving countries in extreme poverty. If they were properly educated on the levels of poverty caused by their cultures and think logically maybe they would opt for contraception as many don’t believe in that.

Education is key to conservation of this beautiful Earth of ours. If every human did their part even the simple things like not littering Mother Nature would reward us with more abundance. We as humans are here to look after Earth so our children have a future but at the rate it’s going there will be no future as greed and uneducated humans destroy our beautiful planet. Nature doesn’t care. As civilizations die out vegetation keeps on growing, animals take over from where they came. Respect is earned and we as Humans has disappointed Mother Nature. She is showing us, her children – that we have failed her by natural disasters and disease.

Let’s become more respectful of one another and of Earth then there might just be a future for our next generations.

PEACE AND WELL – BEING TO ALL.

Fear not my Child… by Kim Michelle Hewitt

Lemon cake was Patunia’s favourite and Proteas certainly always made her smile. The way that each individual part of the flower is formed to perfection and how it fits in and yet seems too advanced for this world somehow.

She greeted her friend with glee. Lia was handing out small gifts to all her friends, all of which chatted and giggled amongst themselves. A delightful air of enthusiasm filled the sunny back porch where snacks and enjoyment continued to flow.

In this celebration time there had been much to say and on leaving Patunia felt a warm happiness and overall general excitement for the week ahead. She glanced down at the little wooden umbrella; Lia had given her, as her personal gift. She remembered the words her friend had used, “Because you can weather every storm”. This was so applicable to Patunia’s life, which in fact had felt like many storms amongst many happy times.

Patutia day dreamed back over a specific period in her life where storms were all she really had encountered. Thinking back to times she would sit on the beach watching the waves roll in and out absorbed by the magnitude and expansion of water, by the greatness that was presented before her, ever reminding her, that all is really well, always. Her mind drifted to elightened times when all her dreams came true and smiled at how this too is possible with the right dose of imagination, a scoop of intention, a pinch of attention, and of course, a measure of faith. The little wooden umbrella was in fact triggering many a thought for Patunia and she smiled as she lay on the green freshly cut grass looking up at the sky through the branches of palm trees.

In the days that followed she found herself being interviewed by a large organisation, of which she was delighted. She found that love in all forms came knocking and she found that remaining grateful was a key to unlock any potential obstacle and conquer it.

Finding the peace in aloneness had been a great challenge at this time for most, yet Patunia was no stranger to aloneness and isolation. It seemed to always take her back in memory to happier times. Playing ball on the crooked pathway leading to the squeaky garden gate at her Grandma’s house, the smell of flapjacks coming from the kitchen and boiled sugar sweets kept high up out of reach in the wooden safe cupboard. She would think of Everleen and Jane, chatting together, in their own language, on their grass mats, smoking long beaded pipes in the afternoon sunshine. To eating sweet and sour grapes from the grape vine, climbing the mulberry tree escaping to her wooden hide away, where dolls and teddies had kept her company. Of her ‘stage’, which in fact was the old cement slab in the back garden amongst the lanky pawpaw trees. To all her make believe audience, who cheered and clapped after each of her performances. Her thoughts would amble to fresh fruit salad, the smell of garden roses, to the safety of her Grandma’s story time and the harmonious sound of garden birds. Drifting through these childhood memories and adventures, Patunia would often stop and ask herself the questions. “What had covered me through it all?” “What had been my overall protection?” “What had pushed me to venture, what had encouraged me to leap?” Now, as she looked at the little wooden umbrella, she knew the answer.

It was in fact Grace, Grace that had been there all along. Grace that had held her hand when there was no-one else, Grace that had her covered even when she did not think so and Grace that had pulled her through each trying situation. The Grace of all that is, the Grace of all that was and all that ever will be. That Grace that held her close and that Grace that kept her going. That Grace that cheered in celebration with each small step, ever gently forcing her to try and try again, to expand, experience, to unfold, to grow.

Lia’s gift was much more than just the little wooden umbrella. She had given Patunia the graceful opportunity of adventure into a more conscious approach to past experiences, with more understanding in the overall umbrella of life. Grace, the umbrella of her life, through every storm through every cloud, through every rainbow and every sunshine. Ever held, ever being encouraged, ever supported, ever loved. As it is, as it was and as it is to come.

Written with Thanks to my dear friend TvR
Kim Michelle Hewitt