AN ODE TO GAIA: INTO THE THICK OF IT

“There’s not time to be bored in a world as beautiful as this”

Anonymous

The more that I take the time to venture forth onto the Open Road, the more in awe I am of everything that surrounds me. An explosion of colors, sights, sounds. Everything good on this precious earth. This is my ode to her:

Driving along the tucked away roads of the Garden Route, taking it all in. When you are in the thick of it. Enshrouded in various shades of green. Embraced wholly by Gaia, the ever-loving earth mother. When you are nestled in her comforting arms. How is one supposed to describe that feeling? Unexplainable. Indescribable. An ancient and primal ache deep in the core. In the heart. In the eyes. Looking out in awe at this vast and unbelievably wonderful world. Being amongst the forests, the woods, the deserts, the beaches, the mountains. Going out into those immensely powerful places, hiding away from the smoke and the cement of human civilization, something happens to you. Everything significant and meaningful and fantastically familiar within you comes alive. You are feeling, truly feeling. You are coming home.

A FRESH START: A LOVE AFFAIR WITH THE OPEN ROAD

“The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark”

John Muir

After four years of a subtle but intense bout of writers block, it took a global pandemic to kick me in the proverbial backside and put fingers upon keyboard, and heart back into words

As of late, taking to the open road has started to become second nature to me. It is in those times of solitude amongst scenes of exquisite and surreal beauty that I have started to find a sense of connection that has always been lacking amongst the hedonistic hustle and bustle of the city, amongst instant gratification and empty promises. Towards the sea, towards the mountains, towards the trees, towards new places, new people, new experiences. Towards all the lakes, rivers, puddles I can get my tail in. Towards myself. I venture forward and relate back.

Here is a young mermaid’s Love Affair with the Open Road

Day 8 in the journey of Human: Apologies to the woman I was.

“I raise up my voice—not so I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard…we cannot succeed when half of us are held back.”

Malala Yousafzai

Another one bites the dust. A potential companion swept under the rug by their own hand and their own broom.

What do I do?

What do I say?

What do I radiate that makes me not fit?

Some may say I am not pretty enough. At least not under this makeup.

Some may say I am not thin enough. At least not under these clothes.

Some may say I am too intense. When I haven’t taken my meds

Some may say I am too strong-willed. When I speak unashamedly.

Perhaps I am simply too loud.

How long have I been numb to my own insecurities? How long have I been bowing down to the pressure of ‘not good enough?’

Too long. Too long.

I am here. I am breathing.

My body is unique. It has marks, and bumps, and bruises, but there is no ONE like mine. My gift.

My voice is strong. My laughter fills up the room and reminds those around me that I choose happiness. My gift.

My emotions bring me colour. I have looked in the mirror and asked myself if I feel too much. I feel just the right amount. The question becomes acceptance, becomes love. My gift.

From this day forth I don’t apologize for the gifts I have been given, not even to myself.

I simply pass my gifts to others.

 

Day 7 in the journey of Human: Glimmer of Change

I am sitting alone. Drenched in acoustic melody. Why am I feeling discontented?

“Don’t be tempted by the shiny apple. Don’t you eat of a bitter fruit. Hunger only for a taste of justice. Hunger only for a world of truth”

-Tracy Chapman

Where is the justice? What is the truth?

We scream until we cannot scream any longer! Looking around. One corner there is corruption, one corner there is thirst, and yet another, abuse. Stay positive they say. Face this ugliness with a giant fake smile plastered above one’s neck. Maybe we will forget. Maybe blissful ignorance will seep once again into our pores.

We cannot idly stand by. We cannot idly stand by and pretend. Close our eyes, sew them shut and broaden the plastic and intoxicated grin… Where are the drums to beat as we stomp? Where is the horn to blow as we march upon the field? Together. March with our hands held up high, declaring: “This is not good enough!”

I believe every single one of us hungers. This is a biological fact. Also metaphysically, allegorically. Truly hungers. Either we hunger for that bittersweet apple or we hunger for truth. We chow down with a great force on that shiny red skin only to be met with a deeper hunger. A deeper greed. There is no greed in truth. Truth constantly fills.

You have the power. The power to to show others their own. Hand in human hand.