Selfishness is the Word…….

Written by Deborah Jordaan

Good day to all the wonderful humans that read our stories, without our readers our words are in limbo but our readers embrace our talent. Thank you.

Today I am writing about the person that takes care of a patient. Whether it is a nurse or a family member the caretaker is sometimes taken for granted. The patient can be selfish and not consider the person taking care of them, they might also want to do things and go places but sometimes the Caregiver has no choice as they take care of the patient twenty-four hours a day.

The Caregiver can get lonely and feel like they are alone. The Caregiver also needs a support system as the patient family might not assist the Caregiver. Working twenty-four hours a day is strenuous.

Yes, the Caregiver has chosen to do the work they do but if they are emotionally tired they will be of no assistance to anyone including their own family.

In Afrikaans, there is a saying, ‘Jy druk my in n blik,’ which means your space has been compressed to such a small size that you cannot move.

Caregivers that take care of a family member do not have it easy as they do not have choices. The Caregiver feels obligated to take care of the patient as the patient supports them financially.

When does the relationship become abusive in a sense? It becomes abusive when the patient verbally abuses the Caregiver. Even emotional abuse is abuse.

Once the Caregiver starts feeling lonely and excluded from the world, problems are created. The Caregiver starts to feel resentment and used. The patient needs to realise that without the Caregiver the situation can become difficult. When a Caregiver studies, they are told that they should not allow manipulation and being used by the patient and the family of the patient.

It is amazing how the family does not really care about the patient in some scenarios, but when they want to sound intelligent and voice their opinion they expect the Caregiver to bow down.

I have worked as a private Caregiver a few times and have met good and bad families. I think some family members have a guilty conscience so they decide they want to butt in the situation of the patient.

Yes, the family might be employing the Caregiver but that does not mean they can talk to you like they want. We are all human beings and we are all on different levels of life, there should not be an issue of rich or poor.

The Caregivers are sometimes seen as the bottom of the barrel but without us, a system can stand still. We are important to the recovery of a patient, we do the clean-up job if the hospital cannot assist. Do not undervalue your Caregiver as they sacrifice a lot for your health. They give up their lives and take your life as theirs. They hardly see their families.

This may seem like a complaint session but it is to shed light on the issues of some Caregivers. If you have a Caregiver, appreciate them. If they are very trustworthy you have a gem of a person. Be blessed and always take care of people as if they are your own loved ones.

Practical Magic – 102 Soup for the Soul

Written by Vanessa Anderson

The usual conjuring and imagery of Witches, witchcraft and spell work often centre around a cauldron bubbling on a hot fire – hubble and bubble – while a cackling crone stirs the pot, muttering softly to herself as she dollops and sprinkles her tinctures and herbs. Each component is selected for cause and effect, a concoction of sorts meant for suture and salve, whether corporeal, ethereal or spiritual. An act of intent, for which ailment affects.

I previously appealed to you, to remember your magic yet I was not quite sure yet which element of practical magic should follow my last instalment for I truly believe that everything we do, with intent, is magic. One practice, in particular, keeps circling my mind – cooking, brewing, concocting, creating with love and intent, spelling.

In my piece titled – When the world tries to break someone you love – I wrote about my nephew, he is sick, very sick. Amid the chaos of disrupted routine and emotional upheaval, one simple, wholesome act pulls together the red thread that binds us all – cooking. It is this element because it is so raw in our existence that I want to reflect on it in this piece.

The ill, like the stone thrown across a pond, cause a ripple and those within the concentric circles ebbing outward – hold the space of the one within. We take care of them, holding them together so that they can hold those within.

Through all the ages of man, in every culture across the spiritual realm, we have sustained each other, held these circles together and gathered others towards us, with food. When we celebrate, we gather and share food, when we mourn, we gather and share food, when others are ill, we do what comes naturally – we cook, we gather and we share food.

We do this to hold the line when others are raging against a battle and, if we are lucky, we may have others to hold the line should we find ourselves in a battle that threatens to consume us.

When we were little, and we felt sick, we rested and our mothers made us soup to eat. When family and friends are sick, we offer to make their food, and we sustain them when they do have not the strength to do so themselves. It is a practice (in magic) done naturally, with intent. We give of our time and our energy towards others, the ingredients may be wholesome and nourishing, but that is not all on offer.

We infuse love, a knowing and understanding of the space others are in. It is an act of kindness where energy, like magic flows naturally. It is not odd or strange that the foods we prepare are often, exactly what the body needs to support it. It is knowledge within, sometimes we forget, sometimes the universe reminds us.

Food, good food, is energy. When it is prepared with love and intent – whether twirling round a cauldron or a pot on the stove – it is magic.

All magic is, is practice with intent.

We give our thought to the idea that someone else is in need. We give thought to the knowing that they have other things on their mind. No matter whether they are the one who is ill, or the one taking care of the ill, or those holding the space between the lines and the circles – our thoughts, through simple practices, like making food, become the tincture that offers suture and salve to the wounds of the embattled.

Remember that you are magic.

Test the theory, remember the last meal you made now remember the way you approached preparing it, what you infused within, how you and others felt eating it? Was it merely sustenance for an empty stomach, or did it nourish and nurture more than just body?

Last thought: if you are what you eat, then should you not take back the power over how it is prepared?

Body, Soul and Mind

Written by Deborah Jordaan

Good day beautiful beings, as usual, I hope to find you well and blessed with abundance. Today I am writing about the human being as a whole and what we do to keep it healthy.

Nutrition is vital for body health so it is our choice how we take care of it.

Body health creates the human we are and what we become. Eating junk food and consuming alcohol and drugs is by no means good for the body. It does not make a human better than another by our abuse of our bodies compared to someone that has healthy habits, it just gives the healthy person better opportunities because of their moral values toward themselves and how they treat their bodies.

As children, our parents feed us to the best of their ability but as we get to an age where we take responsibility for our lives, it is hoped for the good of our health.

When the body is healthy we feed the mind healthily.

The mind’s health depends on the lifestyle we lead and the moral choices we make. If we lead a good life and live honestly and are as good a human as we can be, our minds will be stimulated and fed intellectually.

A healthy mind then leads us to make proper choices and helps us grow as good humans.

I am not saying by making bad choices we are not good humans. Sometimes our mind is psychologically sick which leads us to make bad decisions and at these times we are weak and lost in a place where only we can leave if we choose to be that. Substance abuse damages the mind and makes us think illogically.

The mind should be stimulated from the day a human is born. It is the responsibility of the guardians of the little human to create a good human from baby till when the person is able to think for themselves.

The mind needs visual stimulation to create a distraction from the mundane. People play games, go gambling and watch television and movies. We read and do crafts to broaden our minds.

Unfortunately, the mind absorbs the negative things in the visual things we see, so we should be logical enough to distinguish reality from fiction. Unfortunately, some people live in fairyland so as not to face the lives they are living.

The soul enjoys quietness, sunsets, sunrises and running water. The soul seeks tranquillity.

To feed the soul people go fishing, meditate and take time out from everyday life. A person’s spirituality can add value to the soul’s health. Smelling incense, a fragrant candle and smelling the sweet smells of nature can be tranquil and also having a safe space in your house can also create soul health.

A healthy body and mind can be achieved if the soul is rested and tranquil.

So our bodies work in unison with each part and function. It is like a machine, if one part is broken the other parts cannot function properly.

Nothing is perfect but if you look at Buddha, Allah or any spiritual people you will realise that they found nirvana and that created soul health.

So follow your body signs and be your own mechanic, only you can fix yourself.

Be blessed and safe till we meet again.

Zumba, Christmas in July

Written and photographed by Nina Ganci

As some of you have gathered by now, I love taking photos. Nothing too serious, just fun with the camera.

Nadia offering gifts

I was thrilled when Nadia from Richwood Zumba invited me to take photos of their event – Christmas in July.

As we live in South Africa, July is our winter month, so it makes sense to have a Christmas in July!

Everyone dressed up in pyjamas and nightwear and danced (Zumba) non-stop for 1.5 hours. I was just tired of watching them.

For these events, various Zumba studios get together in a hall to raise funds for charity.

Paraplegic Awareness

Written by Deborah Jordaan

Good day to all the beautiful souls that support our page. You make me feel like I am making a difference even if it is just one person that finds a light at the end of the tunnel because of the words I write. Today I am going to write about the daily challenges paraplegic people face out in the world where their needs are not always met from proper paraplegic parking- to bathroom facilities in the public.

As you all know my partner lost part of his leg last year and is still recovering. Luckily I do nursing so I take care of him. I have never noticed how insensitive a human is till their needs changed. Some places accommodate him but few and far between.

Then you get these people that park in paraplegic parking because they are just too lazy to walk a few more steps to where they need to get, not to mention people on the road that get frustrated with the speed he drives. His car is modified so he can still have the freedom of driving.

My heart bleeds for the paraplegics that do not have proper transport or live in sanitary conditions. They may have wounds that need cleaning and their situation may be that they live in a squatter camp or area where water and electricity are not available. That is why it gets to the point where they lose more of the limb because of sepsis or any other condition. I ensure my partner is clean, fed and warm in bed before doing anything for myself.

We made many friends when he was in Baragwanath Hospital and I wish I could help them but unfortunately, it is not always possible.

When you see a paraplegic person be kind to them, remember they may have been like you and suddenly their life changed in a second. Remember a paraplegic person still has an intelligent mind and they have not changed they just have a body that changed.

Then you get the people that cannot face the paraplegic after they lost a limb or any other body problem. My partner’s brothers have never seen him after his operation, their excuse is they feel bad seeing him like that.

What nonsense, they act like they are the victim whereas my partner never feels like a victim. To me, his family feels bad facing him because they never visit him and they never went to see him in hospital.

Never treat a paraplegic like a paraplegic, they are still a human just a bit different.

Albert Lin

Look at the amazing Albert Lin that works for national geographic, nothing holds him back. He goes on amazing adventures and has done things that able-bodied people have never done. Paraplegics have children and have beautiful family lives. Able-bodied people can learn a lot from paraplegics in regard to daily living. We take for granted that we can walk outside, jump and run. They wish they can just walk without a challenge.

Next time you say you do not feel like doing anything and that you feel down, think about what the paraplegic feels like every day. Just appreciate your life and when you see a paraplegic person try and be helpful to them.

Be blessed and be safe.

Doubt Erased…

Poem by Ada Den Hollander

‘Did you take it?’, I ask

‘Of course, a few days ago’, you say

‘How do you feel?’, me

‘Muscles stiff, my left arm a bit sore’, you

‘It’s risky, some say’, me

‘Not at all, others say’, you

‘You believe them?’, me

‘Yes, I do’, you

‘Why would I do it?’, me

‘It’s the answer, they say’, you

‘To what?’, me

‘A strong and healthy body’, you

‘Shall I go for it too?’, me

‘Definitely’, you

‘Not sure…’, me

‘Especially recommended for the elderly’, you

‘That’s for me then?’, me

‘Yes and it’s on promotion’, you

‘Oh?’, me

‘ Five classes, half price’, you

‘Count me in’, me

‘Good girl’, you.

When the World Tries to Break Someone You Love

Written by Vanessa Anderson

I promised someone a while ago that I would pen this article. It’s telling delayed because I truly did not know where to start. For I, could not possibly give you, the reader – an accurate account of the experience being that I was not an active participant in the story.

Then it occurred to me that reason and accuracy have no part in its telling. For reason you see is neither fair nor factual – not in this account, and accuracy, well, being accurate is neither here nor there when it comes to watching someone you love suffer.

And you, you may be a combatant observer of suffering in your own world, unsure of when, where or how to shine your light so that those who suffer can find a way back to themselves. It may well be that this is for you, as much as for me, is a tale worth knowing.

When you can neither see, touch nor hear the cause of someone’s distress – but rather you sense it like an oozing web that threatens to engulf, cover, hold them down and smother them. You see it hiding in the shadows, fearful of the light, you sense it is sneaky and deceitful, it changes moods and appetites, it changes personality and sleep is a constant arms-length away. Yet you cant name it, you cant calm it and it feels so unfair, so unjust and misplaced.

When a diagnosis is a prying, meddling, scab-picking torment, like a gnawing woodworm carving holes into their being and after all of that it offers little relief or lasting solution. When all you want to do is rage against it, cast it back and banish it from their world and all you can do is wish for them a quiet calm so they can come back to themselves, even for a moment.

Around 7 months ago, you turned 21 years old – I was there the day you were born and named as the ‘first born son’ derived from the Siouan (Sioux) language, Chaska – brave and strong. Names are words, words spelled – spelling is a casting of spells – the name is certainly fitting.

You have shown us a world we may never have known had you not been born brave enough to bare the seizures that take you from us at times.

The malfeasance of time and practice aside, you question ‘why you’?

No answer came, it likely never will.

You turned 21 years old last October and for the longest of days and the endless nights to follow – you got lost in darkness, cloaked in chaos and anger, locked behind a shroud most could not see past, let alone unveil in the hope to set you free.

You became opaque and we became obtuse. We could only flutter around like moths to a flame, trying to catch the light as it tried to escape from within you, like flour through a sieve, inane, useless.

You ask, ‘why you’ – I can’t fathom a reason or rhyme, I couldn’t come close.

Yet through it all, what resonates sounds something like ‘Thank God’ – whatever that means for you. You are because we are – your family, by soul or by blood.

You are recognised, you are loved, you are a light the dark tried to blow out – it didn’t know how many WE were, that fluttered and floundered around your flame, catching your light and sending it back to you. It didn’t know that we, in soul and blood – would hold the space for your family to work their magic around you.

It didn’t know how strong your Mother was or how fiercely she would fight.

It didn’t know the army of light she had seeded or the determination of their intent. You are because we are – here for you.

The world tried to break you, now show it what you have become.

The world tried to break you, now we know what we are capable of.

We are all here because others were here for us. Others before us, others after us, others because of us.

Living life as a ‘votarist’

Written by Chris De Flamingh

I lived my life for approx. 20 years as a ‘votarist’

You can find the description / definition of a ‘votarist’ on the link below but will place the info in this blog as well should you not opt to look it up.

Definition / Description:

_{In the Christian tradition, such public vows are made by the religious – cenobitic and eremitic – of the Catholic Church, Anglican Communion, and Eastern Orthodox Churches, whereby they confirm their public profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience or Benedictine equivalent. The vows are regarded as the individual’s free response to a call by God to follow Jesus Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit in a particular form of religious living. A person who lives a religious life according to vows they have made is called a votary or a votarist. The religious vow, being a public vow, is binding in Church law. One of its effects is that the person making it ceases to be free to marry. In the Catholic Church, by joining the consecrated life, one does not become a member of the hierarchy but becomes a member of a state of life which is neither clerical nor lay, the consecrated state.}

To my personal belief (not blessed or approved/ordained by God in reality), made certain vows to God to sort of ‘police’ or limit myself from doing anything against God’s law at the time.

Little knowing that I was pursuing God’s law in a non-biblical form and I suffered great emotional trauma because of it and thus lived a very secret and painful lifestyle which I never told any of my family or friends because I felt it was a personal agreement between me and God and no one would ever understand but in actual fact, I had caused more pain for myself and was living a life of sin instead of a God-like lifestyle.

I realised this, the day after my mom passed away on the 28 April 2019 and when I awoke the next morning realising my mom was now gone to be with the Lord, I had reaffirmed my life and commitment to God in the proper manner and so life seemed more real and more clearer to me.

Since then I have taken on a new persona in the true sense of the word and now follow a completely different path to serving God every day of my life. I have been through so much emotional trauma since then as well for various different reasons. But I have learnt from those mistakes as it mostly had been my own doing.

The lesson I learnt from this was that you cannot or should not misunderstand or live a misguided life which God had not meant for you to live or to follow instead follow God’s word according to the Holy Bible.

My whole aim for my blog and family history and telling my story is to leave behind a legacy which I want people to learn from and not make the same mistakes in life as I did.

I pray that everyone experiences peace and love all over the world, especially during this difficult time of the (COVID-19) pandemic and consider and help each other where we can possible so we could all join hands and live in unity. I pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen!

Working for the Great Healer

Written by Elsabe Smit

Nope, the circus is not over yet, but the end is in sight.

Have you been injected? A month or two ago I would have wanted to know, but now my question is: does it matter?

This issue has been a tumultuous inner journey that I lived through while watching myself and my response with fascination.

Firstly there was the question of whether I would take the prick. My intuitive decision was no, I have a God-given immune system and I will nourish and cherish it. Does this mean I was and have been all mouth about the illness? On the contrary.

When the circus started, I was working on a contract in Cape Town, and flying up to my home in Pretoria every few weeks. Right before the lockdown started, I took a late-night flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg. By the time I got home, my eyes were itching. The next morning I felt like I had pink eyes with all the scratchiness but none of the pink.

During the course of the weekend, I started showing other symptoms such as blocked sinuses, a scratchy throat, fever and muscle aches. I was back in Cape Town late on Sunday evening and feeling like a train wreck. Nevertheless, I went to work on Monday and managed to get through half of the day.

I went home and spent the next four days in bed, feeling worse than ever in my life. Fortunately, my hostess was a medical practitioner, and she gave me antibiotics on the third day. By the end of the week I was back on my feet and grateful for my good health.

Then the lockdown and the fearmongering started. Intuitively the situation made no sense to me.

A few months later, my medical friends put two and two together, and we realised what had been wrong with me. So no, I am not preaching from my ivory tower. I got the germ, fought it and came out stronger.

Then the talk about the poisonous prick took off. I looked at the statistics, and none of the justifications made sense to me. As the facts came out, I disseminated these facts to everyone who wanted to listen – and to many people who avoided me because they disagreed with my fervour. I lost family and friends – not just because they turned their backs on my preaching, but because they experienced their loved ones leaving this earth.

I finally realised that if a person wanted the injection, nothing I would say or do would stop them, and I made peace with that.

When the health consequences of the injections started coming to light and it was all doom and gloom, I intuitively felt that a God of Love would not leave His children completely exposed to the injuries. I knew in my bones that there would be people working on a solution and even a cure for the injuries, especially where people were coerced or fooled into this damage. I wanted to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

I have been doing spiritual and distance healing for years, but somehow, I felt that a part of the puzzle was missing. I kept searching.

I found the missing piece of the puzzle and discovered how I can be part of the solution.

Then two things happened. The first was that when I did any healing – in person or distance healing – the injection status of my client became irrelevant. My focus is now on helping clients to balance the system in their body that needs balancing so that their bodies can heal themselves. That is all that is important. And it is possible because that is how God made us.

The second thing was that I could distinctly feel how my relationship with my clients as well as my healing abilities moved to a higher level. This is one of those things that are not easy to put into words, but I now know in my heart of hearts that the healing energy I have been using for years has intensified to a point that leaves me in awe.

I am incredibly grateful that I have been on this journey, and I am looking forward to every day when I can help a person to activate their own innate healing ability.

Should we talk?

Namaste

A Tincture for the Soul

Written by Vanessa Anderson

There are times when we all feel like we want the world to stop for a moment, just so we can breathe again, think again, feel again – without watching the clock, without sacrifice, without trade-offs. For whatever purpose this feeling imposes – listen.

It is but a symptom for something far greater and as much as medication treats a symptom, wishing the world would stop for just one moment is but a plaster covering a deeper wound. Yes, the world it seems is spiralling, for some, it is a deeper, darker more dangerous world – but they are yet unaware of its powers, for others, it is a lifting of a veil, equally deep, just as dark, but one where there is light, love and a world I cannot even begin to describe.

You will know it only by the feeling, because all the words you know, could not yet possibly describe that place we have forgotten, home.

So, we are told to hold on.

Hold on, it is in the words, hold – but to what do we hold on, too?

I went to be last night, perchance to sleep, but a dreadful migraine had me trying to hold my body still for the throbbing behind my eyes. I remembered a pressure point below my eyebrows and fell asleep head in hand, a reprieve for a moment until in rest my hands fell and my body moved. It was a fitful sleep.

When I woke, I remembered to hold the pressure point between my thumb and forefinger. It was an odd recollection, for at the time I mused how little we touch our own hands, in comfort. How little we touch our self in love, yet this is how we hold on. This is how we hold the world back for a moment. This is how we escape the vortex that will have us seeking reprieve.

We hold on.

We remember that we actually hold our thoughts in our hands.

When last did you hold your own hand in comfort, whispering, I am here for you.

When last did you touch your face and speak of your beauty and your grace?

When last did you grasp your feet in your hands and hold yourself together – giving and receiving in an infinite loop.

When last did you rest your hands upon your head and feel the wisdom beneath your fingers?

When last did you lay your hands upon your chest and feel the rise and fall of your breathe?

When last did you speak to your soul as if it was the most beautiful being in existence?

You are a being of light; a healer in your own right. I read something this week, it said, ‘I don’t have any magic to give you. I am here to lead you back to a place where you can remember your own”. I wish I had written that myself, but I couldn’t claim the credit. It did remind me though, that I am most capable.

I am here to remind you.

As I write this, I am sitting under a tree, beneath the chattering of birds, white splashes of colour against a blue sky. I sit beside the bees working their magic among the flower blooms in my garden, my lanky ginger familiar (Oliver Bean, Olliepollie, the Oluspolus –he of many names) washing himself on my right – my shadow gauge who has held vigil during my blue phase. As I sit here crafting this message I am reminded that I must practice what I preach.

I will make time to dry my hair in the sunshine, absorb the warmth and splendour of the day. I will make time to feel heat of the day and the promise of growth beneath my toes. I will sit still, feet in hand honouring the sacred circle, honouring my power.

When ‘I’ is done, when you are ready, pull up a pillow, let’s hold hands, we will wait for others and in the meantime, we will hold on!