A night under the stars.

I went to the doctor because I have a bad case of the flu. It was all under control until I went to donate blood, which I feel is everyone’s duty. Unfortunately, being without my somewhat vital red blood cells made me very sick. Sorry if whoever gets my blood gets sick. My bad! So anyway, my Doctor made me swear that I will never donate blood again, since my body needs every drop of it to keep me alive. What followed was another lecture for being a vegetarian. Why don't people get it? At least she gave me some iron supplements and now I am on the road to recovery. I still feel fat and bloated and slimy. Yuk! It really sucks being sick, especially since I was visiting my parents for the holiday at the time. They live in Ballito, which is on the East Coast in Natal. It’s really beautiful there.



One of my favourite places is my parents’ balcony, which has a spectacular view of the Indian Ocean. Sometimes, when I stand on that balcony staring/gazing, it feels like I’m on an island. We live on such a beautiful planet; I wish people would appreciate it more. At night, the coast is lit up and it is then that my ‘Night Island’ really gets to me. It is a compelling sense of peace and infinite wisdom that comes over me and makes me unable to look away or to concentrate on anything else. Standing there night after night, arrested by the sublime splendour of Creation, I feel so in touch with the ebb and flow of the Universe. It’s like I can say to the Universe: ‘Here I am. I can see you. Can you see me?’ At times like these, I can hardly remember ever feeling insignificant in my life. On the last nights of my stay there, the Moon was full. There is nothing as disarming as the silver Full Moon reflected on the water, the light dancing. There is nothing like being bathed in the Moonlight, hearing the voice of some not so distant source of power and magic, being caressed and soothed by it. A truly healing experience. I would love to share such a moment with my beloved. Any takers? Never mind…

Another favourite place of mine is the beach. Now, I have severe Beach bias. I hate sharing the beach with hundreds of people, I loathe getting sunburnt (I refuse to get skin cancer) and detest being hot. When I go to the beach, it’s usually after 3, so that the sun is on its way to setting, thus allowing the sand to cool down. Also, not a lot of people go there that late. If I do go earlier, I usually climb to my ‘Secret Spot’. Only accessible by climbing out some impressive coastal cliffs and therefore, rather exclusive. It’s like having your own private beach. I like my privacy, especially if I’m gonna strut about in my only bikini (unreasonably tiny). I hate being so close to naked and feel really uncomfortable if others are there to stare. So, back to the point: What I really like to do is to lie on the sand, eyes closed and hands and feet buried in the sand. Within, I can feel my own heartbeat against the sand. Sometimes I am convinced that I can feel the Earth’s heartbeat in sync with mine. It’s almost as though I am plugged into the Earth. I can feel it move, I can feel it breathe. Almost allowing me to become one with the Earth. This experience always has such a calming, humbling effect on me. I find such peace there. Peace that eludes me, living in the city. Clarity I am completely without usually. Perhaps I should move there.. No, the family would drive me crazy. Ah the Ocean… We have a special relationship, one of mutual obsession. It’s a cross between a love affair and a constant assassination attempt. Perhaps I will go into greater detail on another occasion. Maybe I will include it in my memoirs.