01 Feb 2012

Hello… It was a long journey and a bit of a scrambled one, but I’m home!!!  Oh what a joy!


I arrived at Narita airport exactly on time, since everything in Japan appears to work to absolute precision.  If the bullet train is supposed to arrive in Tokyo from Nagano at 11 minutes past the hour, it arrives exactly at 11 minutes past the hour.  So mine did, despite the fact that earlier in the morning we had three earthquakes!  The first with 5.5 on the Richter scale had its epicentre near Mount Fuji, followed by two smaller ones that were not considered to be simply aftershocks. My attention was drawn to the fact that within four minutes there were Twitters from all over Japan sharing the news and bringing this to the world’s attention. Once again I became aware of how traumatised people are by the current situation.  Much love to them all and of course to New Zealand and all other troubled places where people are feeling traumatised at this time.


Having been so impressed, as I always am, by such precision, imagine my dismay when our aircraft to Hong Kong took off over an hour late from Narita. Nevertheless, staying in the moment and being in the dance with the life that I love, I arrived at Hong Kong to be ushered through the airport with all of us who were on our way to Johannesburg, and we arrived just in time to board.  So, no Hong Kong airport shopping!  (Maybe a blessing!) And via Johannesburg, I arrived home at lunchtime today.  But then there was another interesting event, in that there had been a misunderstanding about my date of arrival, and there was no one to meet me! They thought I was coming home tomorrow! I turned down offers of lifts into Lusaka, convinced that my vehicle was on its way, but no.  So I had another two hours sitting in the airport meditating on what all of this was about…


The farm is fabulous: lush and green and the bush in the valley fully in its prime, covered with a mantle of vines and creepers that courageously climb to the top of the canopy to the sunlight.  It makes my heart sing with joy at the splendour of it.  The sun is clear and bright and I can see for miles to where the Kafue River glistens on its way its the Indian Ocean.


Sadly one of our community has been very sick and in hospital while I was away, and although he’s home now, he’s very shaken and frightened bless him. We must nurture him well.  And of course I also come home to lots of work to catch up on and then all too soon, I need to prepare to leave for Europe…  But before then I have two baptisms this weekend.  What an honour and a privilege!  I will be performing the ancient rite of baptism and naming for my grand-daughter. How fulfilling is that?! And also another child whose parents I married some years ago and whose brother I also baptised.


So I’ve been thinking a lot about children and how amazing they are and how they are loved into being; the next wave of humanity.  That ‘loving into being’ doesn’t always look like love to the human eye of course.  But on a soul level we hold the space gently for the next wave of souls who have the courage to incarnate.  We then watch, and the curtain between the soul planes and the earth plane gently part and they enter.  In fragile human bodies, with little means of communicating with us except by movement and sound, they come, and as we other souls play our part in welcoming them.  On one level remembering our own vulnerability on re-entry, we compassionately hold them energetically.  Those who have the honour to have been chosen as parents or siblings, grandparents or ‘family’, make space to accommodate the needs of the newborn while the rest of us may hardly note their arrival.  But all over the planet, second after second they come, while simultaneously others graduate from the human life, their learning and giving complete for this time, and they re-enter the soul planes.  Constant movement.  The mysteries of the transitions we call birth and death unfold before us in every moment.


If we can stand aside a little and watch and feel, there can be joy in both of these transitions, though of course the human heart aches with the grief of apparently losing those we love as they leave. So if somewhere in your vicinity there’s a birth, maybe you could see it with new eyes and add your welcome to the newborn.  And if there’s a departure, then maybe you could perceive that differently too and with clarity note the shift in energy as the soul leaves and goes home. Maybe you could wish the departing soul a safe journey home and a joyous welcome on their arrival. Though they will have left their human body behind – their vehicle for this lifetime, their soul will still live on. There will have been that gentle shift in energy as they left the human plane and moved to the soul planes by whatever means they chose to leave their body behind. It’s as inspiring and amazingly wonderful as birth, though it hurts our human hearts.   As Octavia Paz says:


There is no end.  Everything is a constant beginning again and again.

But if you’re preparing for, or recovering from, the transition of a loved one, please take care of yourself; support your heart chakra and your immune system; take it easy and allow yourself time.  Breathe.


These transitions of what we call birth and death are so amazing.  In fact I will be teaching about them in UK and Ireland in the next few weeks.


Now I must go, but I’ll still be loving you and dancing my way through this love affair I have with life. But before I go… please take note of these wise words:


A slow death comes for those who don’t revolt when they’re unhappy in work or in love; who don’t risk the certain for the uncertain in order to follow a dream; who don’t allow themselves, at least once in their lives, to disregard sensible advice.

Pablo Neruda

Take courage…

Much love