Observing

Thinking humanity 2

It is he: the Observer

Without him, I would be unable to measure my true worth.

His omnipotence is the catalytic spark that births the creative force that I am.

He is the aethereal power whose presence coalesces my spirit into the physical being that is me.

 

It is I: the Observed

I am not a singular linear self-contained happening. I am like a mote of dust in a swirling desert sandstorm, a minuscule reflection of a multi-faceted field of existence and creative expression.

I am a microcosm that unwittingly mirrors the vastness of the universal whole as my own small reality.

As small as I am, I am an integral part of an intense, non-localised field of creativity that is here, there and everywhere, all of the time.

When my small seeing eye observes the patterns of this quantum sandstorm of which I am part, I localise into my ‘time and place’ frame. The dust settles and my life takes form, but I am still of the non-stuff of a creative universe.

That is when my Soul energy will birth my kind: be it a rebirth of my own being or a new birth of a child, or an act of loving kindness unconditionally given.

Allan Taylor, author Luanshya musings

 

Medicinal brooms sweep clean…

…in Africa and off the beaten track, away from the influences of civilisation and deep in the forest, clearings are meticulously swept by the women folk bent double and holding handleless brooms often made of vlei grasses, but sometimes of medicinal herbs to repel evil spirits from the dark side. Every morning the area around the huts and up to the forest edge, is swept to dusty smooth perfection. A strange footprint, or worse, the side-winding slurry of a snake in the sand, could be a harbinger of evil, whose presence needed to be exposed as a satan nyoka – a devil snake announcing no good.

Allan Taylor, author, Luanshya musings

Sergio Pesalano

                        Sergio Pesalano

The Kingdom of Barotseland

It was six o clock and there was not one flying ant in the air – we all knew Boniface was right – it was the end. I had no option but to try and grill Boniface to get every detail out of him before he fell into one of his uncooperative moods, which I saw coming. He was a proud Lozi from the Zambezi flood plains in Western Northern Rhodesia, and he had an ancestral king to look up to – King Lewanika of Barotseland. He clammed up because he didn’t like being pushed into corners – which I could understand – he would tell me everything in his own good time. I had no option but to accept his African ways and wait.

Allan Taylor, author, Luanshya musings

In 1925, King Yeta 11 of the Barotse traveled to Livingstone to meet the Duke of WindsorKing Yeta !! of the Barotse July 1925 Buz Trevor

With all the royalty in town, the dance floor needed a good shine.Polishing the floor

Buz Trevor

Inner space

Jacon Oster Mursi girl Ethiopia

                      Jacob Oster Mursi girl Ethiopia

Just as I can describe the relativity of my time as a hollow rubber ball, so can I describe my Soul as being the sole owner of my gawky mind and body.

Inside my time ball there is an apparent nothingness which defines the outside circumference of my outer oneness. My life, like a rubbery skin, passionately wraps itself around this mysterious rounding force of nothingness; which in turn defines my physical wholeness, my rounded permanence, which in turn is my creative potential for being. I call this inner space of ‘nothingness’ my Soul.

Allan Taylor, author, Luanshya musings