Beyond the surface...

You see a Mirror when you look at me;
I am the surface of a pond.
Be drunk with the idea of drowning,
Don't come here just to look at yourself.

Shafinaaz Hassim (c) 2011

Peace, Freedom and other wild fantasies

I've dreamed of peace and freedom ever since I was a little girl. That one day, things would change, and I would finally grow wings. It never happened.
But then, one day, I woke up and realised, that the thing I wanted more than anything, was to fly, and that that was never on the cards for a reason: I'm a human being, and not a bird or a unicorn or some ill-placed-in-time flying dinosaur. I'm a person.

And I learned that freedom isn't a different kind of mobility; it's a different way of being, a mind free of conditioning that's so lavishly lathered onto you from a very young age, and it's a demeanor of your own choosing. Freedom is peace. And peace, in and of yourself, is freedom.
I stopped dreaming of wings, and changed my focus.
I got wings, and dropped those ego boundaries.
I became one with Us.
You became Me.
Love became eternal.
The world reached the clouds.
Sky melted into the earth.
Life taught us Oneness. We experienced Peace. Love seeped into us.
We inherited a new legacy. We discovered anew: Freedom is.

Beautiful things; precious moments...

I've been back in Durban almost a fortnight, counting the beauty, the days of good and wondrous encounters, the love of life and the blessing of being around my maternal grandmother. I bask in the sunlight of her spirit. Sitting in her presence is a quenching for my soul. I drink on, satiated.

And then I drink more of her loveliness.

There's a varied peace in this...

I measure my life in milestones. Not timelines, but in connectivity with loved ones, proximity to them. Haji'ani Ma, my maternal grandmother, is my measure for all these things.

I have noted various stages along her life path. A strong and resolute woman, but also a fragile and lovely being. She brought up her two daughters after being widowed at the age of 39. And I was born before her 50th birthday; to her eldest daughter, her first grandchild.

The cream over her milk, as she likes to say of us grandchildren.

She will be 82 this week.

Holding her delicate body in my arms, feels like I'm hugging a dream.

I already know that a part of her is looking onward to higher places.

And a part of her remains here, with us. Counting our successes, sharing our smiles. A haze of the fantastical forever lingers. Reality beeps to the beat of our hearts. Mortality of the body overshadows immortality of spirit, being, a lifetime of dreams realised, hopes dashed, joys shared, loss made visible.

Instead of counting the days, I want to celebrate the precious moments. One at a time.

Imagined differences

Something fascinating happened this weekend. I met someone for dinner, had a chat, and a whole new world opened in my experience of life.

This is how it happens. Every once in a while you meet someone who affects a shift in your thinking. Or provides the answers to some of the questions you've been mulling over. Or erases some of the doubts you have been holding onto regarding something or the other.

Something. sOmething. SomeThing. There's always something that someone does, says or implies that causes something to stir in you. Realisation, joy, fear, anger, doubt, reassurance. Something.

For the most part, I think its that if we allow ourselves to open our hearts and minds to the world view of yet another person, a new learning happens for us.
Why some of us choose to close off this option is beyond me. But then, ignorance is a dreaded bliss; an empty bliss for most.

Everyday, we are as a vessel, filled and emptied. And in the ebb and flow of the life force, we are a moving energy, merging, engaging, being super-imposed with the energies of others. If you are a vat of positive, dynamic energy, you will find some people gravitating towards you in order to quench a thirst in themselves. Or they will resent your ability to drink from the ocean of life.
Life affords us opportunities to replenish ourselves or to cleanse ourselves so that we're not drained by the flow of energy. Being self aware is about finding equilibrium as often as possible. And self realisation is necessary for real growth.

Its really left up to us to identify these moments and to absorb them; to make them a part of the journey of awareness.

These moments reinforce the idea that the stories we live are the blueprint for a collage of universal living. And that we need to write these. That we need them to become part of something larger. Human biography is not just about documenting the art of life. Sharing them is a way of celebrating our humanity, rather than concentrating on our imagined differences.

#SpeakZA: Bloggers for a Free Press

Last week, shocking revelations concerning the activities of the ANC Youth League spokesperson Nyiko Floyd Shivambu came to the fore. According to a letter published in various news outlets, a complaint was laid by 19 political journalists with the Secretary General of the ANC, against Shivambu. This complaint letter detailed attempts by Shivambu to leak a dossier to certain journalists, purporting to expose the money laundering practices of Dumisani Lubisi, a journalist at the City Press. The letter also detailed the intimidation that followed when these journalists refused to publish these revelations.

We condemn in the strongest possible terms the reprisals against journalists by Shivambu. His actions constitute a blatant attack on media freedom and a grave infringement on Constitutional rights. It is a disturbing step towards dictatorial rule in South Africa. We call on the ANC and the ANC Youth League to distance themselves from the actions of Shivambu. The media have, time and again, been a vital democratic safeguard by exposing the actions of individuals who have abused their positions of power for personal and political gain.

The press have played a vital role in the liberation struggle, operating under difficult and often dangerous conditions to document some of the most crucial moments in the struggle against apartheid. It is therefore distressing to note that certain people within the ruling party are willing to maliciously target journalists by invading their privacy and threatening their colleagues in a bid to silence them in their legitimate work.

We also note the breathtaking hubris displayed by Shivambu and the ANC Youth League President Julius Malema in their response to the letter of complaint. Shivambu and Malema clearly have no respect for the media and the rights afforded to the media by the Constitution of South Africa. Such a response serves only to reinforce the position that the motive for leaking the so-called dossier was not a legitimate concern, but a insolent effort to intimidate and bully a journalist who had exposed embarrassing information about the Youth League President.

We urge the ANC as a whole to reaffirm its commitment to media freedom and other Constitutional rights we enjoy as a country.

What can you do? To show your solidarity with 'Bloggers for a Free Press' please email this article or link as is, including blog roll. RT ref #SpeakZA


Blog Roll...


http://thoughtleader.co.za/siphohlongwane
http://rwrant.co.za
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/munadia/
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/shafiqmorton/
http://blogs.news24.com/needpoint
http://capetowngirl.co.za
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sentletsediakanyo
http://thoughtleader.co.za/davidjsmith
http://letterdash.com/one-eye-only
http://boyuninterrupted.blogspot.com
http://amandasevasti.com
http://blog.empyrean.co.za/
http://letterdash.com/brencro
http://6000.co.za
http://chrisroper.co.za
http://pieftw.com
http://hamishpillay.wordpress.com
http://memoirs4kimya.blogspot.com
http://thoughtleader.co.za/azadessa
http://watkykjy.co.za
http://fredhatman.co.za
http://thelifeanddeathchronicles.blogspot.com/
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/common-dialogue/
http://www.clivesimpkins.blogs.com/
http://mashadutoit.wordpress.com
http://nicharalambous.com
http://sarocks.co.za
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/stompies/
http://helenmoffett.book.co.za/blog/
http://01universe.blogspot.com
http://groundwork.worpress.com
http://iwrotethisforyou.me
http://fionasnyckers.book.co.za
http://attentiontodetail.wordpress.com
http://blogs.women24.com/editor
http://www.missmillib.blogspot.com
http://snowgoose.co.za
http://dreamfoundry.co.za
http://www.vanoodle.blogspot.com
http://www.exmi.co.za
http://cat-dubai.blogspot.com
http://alistairfairweather.com
http://www.zanedickens.com
http://www.nickhuntdavis.com
http://guysa.blogspot.com
http://book.co.za
http://baldy.co.za
http://skinnylaminx.com
http://blogs.african-writing.com/zukiswa
http://www.mielie.wordpress.com
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/gatherer/
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sarahbritten
http://stii.co.za
http://blogs.news24.com/FSB_AP
http://twistedkoeksuster.blogspot.com
http://whensmokegetsinyoureyes.blogspot.com/
http://trinklebean.wordpress.com
http://commentry.wordpress.com/
http://matthewbuckland.com
http://blogs.news24.com/colour-me-fran
http://gormendizer.co.za

http://ravingfans.co.za
http://khadijapatel.co.za
http://moralfibre.co.za
http://www.missmillib.blogspot.com

Top 50 Blogs: in humanity

I'm having a pretty random day. And so a random search for my blog brought me to discover this:

Apparently, SoapBox Shafinaaz makes some random list by NetworkedBlogs as number 19 on the Top 50 Blogs: in humanity.

I had no idea that such a thing existed. Nor was I notified.
But it's obviously some part of the Networks way of marketing readable blogs at various stages; making blogs known to the rest of the blogosphere, and to pretty much the rest of the virtual surfers out there... What I am curious about is the criteria involved in making this assessment. The social scientist in me wants to know :P

In related news, "Memoirs For Kimya", the blog-to-book, is having an inspired new year so far :D

I'm the one that's at a loss for words, for the most part.
Yes, stranger things do occur.

Peaceful thoughts to all...

S

Inertia, Utopia, CHaOs

I cannot recall a year that went by so quickly, it felt like it had barely begun. Not for lack of having accomplished anything, though. In fact, precisely because of the years adrenalin-filled happenings, do I feel that sense of inertia still making me reel to and fro, and for the most part, vivid images meld into a belligerent blur.

This is a reflection. Not quite the customary year-end ramble.
Which is probably why I cannot find the words to express the stop-start feeling.
And, as luck and fate and the powers that be might have it,
its not over yet.

Do I sound like I'm complaining?

Hardly that.
I'm reading yet another visa script as I type; ready to set off to a desert rendezvous for a week of partying and festivity to round up the year that was.
While Dubai World crashes around us left to the folly of the markets and wanton players, some with tails between their legs, our lot might do the economy a small boost in our lavish outpourings for the next week. Shamelessly said, I know.
Such is the bane and the boon of the clad and shackled.

Ah, its been a year of abundance.
Words flow.
Joy bursts at the seams.
The trickles of sadness, loss and illness linger; keeping a necessary humility in place.
And the mirage of a brighter future looms at eye level.
2010 will be a year of togetherness.
A year of partnering on an equal ground; the dust on the battlefields will settle.
And it will be yet another year to reflect on, to learn from, and to celebrate for its lavish layers of utopia and chaos, in similar measures that maintain our humanity; that sustain all but a crass sanity.

Its not quite goodbye, yet.
But its almost there...

Love and Light,
Shafs

http://shafinaaz.com

Copyright Shafinaaz Hassim (C) 2009

Silence

Silence
you are the tapping of these tips on keys,
making sound, soundless.

Empty yet yielding
something;
soundless,
but real.

Silence you are
intimacy,
scribbles
and thoughts made whole,
but not heard.

Silence,
you are
a tightrope
between
him, and me

and a lifeline
between Him, and me.

Silence,
you are a river
that flows
between humanity
and Being.

Silence!
You are larger
than
Life.

i got a tan. well done!

i got a tan. on a roadtrip.

im tired.

tired of these

and those.

but super-exhilarated

super duper so

because the view,

the sun, surf and sand

the company of loved ones

and the faces met

were all

so...

exhilarating

:)

I want to be!

I want to sit on the rooftops of another world while the sun spreads its wings on its flight to the other side; I want to watch as a dusky night descends from the hues of pink and lilac, and sometimes pale shades of turquoise.

I want to be overwhelmed by the confusion of wondering which side of the horizon we're standing on; and which one flies around us.

I want to merge with this one-ness of up and down; sky and ground.

I want ego to know that it will lose its place - that place is a material thing, really. I want spirit to know that it belongs to You, eternal.

How foolish is this ego trap: Spirit knows, of course...

I want to sit on rooftops of your world, still. Feeling the glory of love's raindrops washing me of my inhibitions.

I want to close my eyes and dream; and then open them to the realisation that the dream is tangible as ever.

Difficult, but not impossible.

I want to see how abstract presence can become a solid reality; feel the sand of promise run through my fingers and fall at my feet in a sea of wholeness.

I want to dream.
I want to feel.
I want to live.
I want to be.

Touch...

The sense of touch is difficult to write about. Some things have a distinct taste about them, smell pungent or sweet or anything in between and look a certain way. Sounds can evoke emotions and cause anxiety; each of the senses can be a tool of seduction or terror. My recent interviews with a woman who spent some time in prison brought many memories out of the simple sounds of a dripping tap, the clamber of keys and the wardens footsteps.

Touch is all of these and more. It is also a new word on my nieces lips.

"Touch" she said with curiosity, when she wanted to stroke the sheep in the backyard yesterday. "Touch" she said in earnest, when she wanted to kiss my aunt's baby. "Touch" she repeated with glee just now when she sat on my lap in front of my pc because we were looking at stock images of birdiiiieeeessss :)

And with the essence of touch, we managed to groom her from whole palms treating the keyboard like the drums of a rockstar to her using one or two delicately poised fingertips on the touchpad, just after I aligned the cursor arrow on the 'next' button. She waited with her hands in the air; watched my fingers intently, and then touched the touchpad ever so lightly until the next piccie loaded.
"Hi Birdie!" she squealed each time. Giggles punctuated the delight in her voice.
And then on to the next one again.
Ooooh, I said. This one's so pretty!
"So, pwettyyyy," she giggled.
Hmm. Next up, an owl.
"WhooOooo!" she said; her eyes widening with the drama of the large eyed bird.
And then to accent her distaste:
"Tata, Whooo!" she signaled both to the imposing bird and to me.
Lol. Moving on :P

Of course, the sounds in the kitchen have distracted her and so she's tottered off in that direction. Which gives me some time to write again ;) But I miss her antics, so instead of getting back to the manuscript, I am writing a tribute to her...
And to the things that she teaches me. She's a wise little one, that. She reminds me of her mother...

When we were growing up, Dilshaad was the voice of reason to my acts of daring. She was the nurturing, caring epitome of sisterhood. And she continues to be this warm and loving soul. I guess that people touch our lives in various ways, reminding us of that innate ability that we have to heal each other with compassion. It is that same compassionate nature that we are able to dig up in the most adverse situations that remind us of an energy of humanity that extends beyond the warring and destruction around the world.

We need to be reminded.

We need to touch and be touched; to feel the tingling of our senses when we are reminded of our power to do great things. To feel the rush of energy that makes us want to be a better person and then some. To be inspired because someone believes in us; because we believe in them. And because we believe in us.

It takes a touch. A word. A care. It takes sharing. And forgiving. And loving the human in us in spite of, and because of everything that we do and are. I am touched everyday by the sheer wonder of it all.

My heart is filled and emptied and filled again.

My soul is full.

I am the bird...

"Ilm tujh sey to marfat mujh sey;
Too khuda joo, khuda numa main.
Too makan-o-zaman sey rishta bapa
Tairey sidrah aashna hoon main."

Alama Iqbal

From you comes knowledge, from me ecstacy;
You search for God, I show the way.
You are attached to time and place;
I am the bird that ascends to the seventh heaven.