The days are flying by and I am not writing. I feel as though I am sliding down a rainbow in slow motion, everything is kind of whooshing past, yet I am very much in the moment. This is a very strange combination of emotions- exhilaration, fear, deep peace, awe, laughter. It all feels right. I am dreaming of skydiving, but I am not alone in the sky. All the particles of the universe hold me. It is the ultimate exercise of trusting the process.
I wonder if I will ever sky dive, I have always wanted to in this lifetime. But I am simply too shit scared. I am afraid of throwing up or passing out or worse! Breaking a leg. I adore watching basejumping clips on youtube. I always joke with my friends and say that I get quite enough adrenaline in my blood by just getting my feet on the ground in the morning. I would really love to paraglide off Table Mountain though, maybe that is more of a soft option. Any companions?
Let me get onto something more tangible.
I had a blinding visit with Matthew. His timing was perfect and we had a lovely weekend of catching up and spending time with friends here. Joe helped and we cooked up a storm on Thursday night. Very traditionally South African. We ate off the plates my parents Bill and Hester bought before I was born, and used the silver cutlery I inherited from my grandmother. My artist friends came with their baby and a bottle of South African white wine.. They admired my newly decorated living room profusely which made my chest swell with pride. I also invited Joe's German teacher called Sabine. A very interesting woman who recently moved from Canada to Oman, can't think off more opposite countries! They do have excellent people in common though.
There was an air of perfection to that evening, as though the forces were conspiring for us. I felt as though generations of my family were watching over me and approving of the crazy funky fusion I have going on in my home and in my psyche.
I had another story to tell which has completely slipped my mind. I will tell you tomorrow. In the mean time I will share my favourite 'bottle of wine' story. I'm sure most of you know it but it always makes me laugh.
A saleswoman is driving home through Arizona after a long stint on the road. She sees a Navajo woman hitchhiking and because the trip has been long and quiet, she decides to pick her up. During their small talk, she notices the woman glancing at the brown paper bag on the seat between them.
'If you're wondering what's in the bag', says the driver, 'It's a bottle of wine, I got it for my husband.'
The Navajo woman is silent for a while, nods several times and says, 'Good trade'.
I often wonder why I enjoy that story so much. I love of course any play on words, but maybe it is the fact that I can laugh at myself for not having the foresight to have traded my own husband in for a bottle of wine a long time ago (instead of going through the whole life-altering excrutiating process as it was). It certainly would have been much simpler, as well as a good trade.
I wonder if I will ever sky dive, I have always wanted to in this lifetime. But I am simply too shit scared. I am afraid of throwing up or passing out or worse! Breaking a leg. I adore watching basejumping clips on youtube. I always joke with my friends and say that I get quite enough adrenaline in my blood by just getting my feet on the ground in the morning. I would really love to paraglide off Table Mountain though, maybe that is more of a soft option. Any companions?
Let me get onto something more tangible.
I had a blinding visit with Matthew. His timing was perfect and we had a lovely weekend of catching up and spending time with friends here. Joe helped and we cooked up a storm on Thursday night. Very traditionally South African. We ate off the plates my parents Bill and Hester bought before I was born, and used the silver cutlery I inherited from my grandmother. My artist friends came with their baby and a bottle of South African white wine.. They admired my newly decorated living room profusely which made my chest swell with pride. I also invited Joe's German teacher called Sabine. A very interesting woman who recently moved from Canada to Oman, can't think off more opposite countries! They do have excellent people in common though.
There was an air of perfection to that evening, as though the forces were conspiring for us. I felt as though generations of my family were watching over me and approving of the crazy funky fusion I have going on in my home and in my psyche.
I had another story to tell which has completely slipped my mind. I will tell you tomorrow. In the mean time I will share my favourite 'bottle of wine' story. I'm sure most of you know it but it always makes me laugh.
A saleswoman is driving home through Arizona after a long stint on the road. She sees a Navajo woman hitchhiking and because the trip has been long and quiet, she decides to pick her up. During their small talk, she notices the woman glancing at the brown paper bag on the seat between them.
'If you're wondering what's in the bag', says the driver, 'It's a bottle of wine, I got it for my husband.'
The Navajo woman is silent for a while, nods several times and says, 'Good trade'.
I often wonder why I enjoy that story so much. I love of course any play on words, but maybe it is the fact that I can laugh at myself for not having the foresight to have traded my own husband in for a bottle of wine a long time ago (instead of going through the whole life-altering excrutiating process as it was). It certainly would have been much simpler, as well as a good trade.
