The art of living

 

Elephant paths that pre-dated the building of Lake Kariba were still a permanent spiritual residue in the psyche of all elephants of the herd. A strong affinity would draw them to a place on the water’s edge. Whereupon they would enter the deep waters to swim the same elephant paths, now sitting many feet below the surface on the lake floor.

Luanshya musings

Now if this isn't the art of living Stuart Walker

                          Stuart Walker

The African night

Turkana African Soul

                        Turkana African Soul.

Black was the feminine darkness that caressed me every night. She could be voluptuous, velvet, and soft; that’s when I could smell her jasmine pepper-sweet body. But she could also be black ice, cold and sharp and unsympathetic to my whimpers and muffled groans on those close nights that choked me. She carried this distrustful sting of ambivalence even when she was running her long fingers of sweat through my tangled hair. I could have feared and hated her – but I didn’t: I loved her, and always would. She was my black spirit of sensual addiction. Her nightcaps were of sequins embroidered on rich velvets of dark plum, burnt caramel, and indigo. Colours dependent on the time of night, dust in the air, fires on the horizon, phases of the moon, lurking storm clouds – or simply the midnight closeness.

She was a Mephistopheles who kept strange company: arguing parents, barking dogs, the ghosts of distant hyenas, unknown owl calls, or the unsettling shriek of a bush baby in distress. Her smell then, was a fetid waft from a swamp – or was it that our septic tank was blocked? I used to ponder as to why our septic tank always belched at night, and never during the day.

Allan Taylor, author Luanshya musings

Love

Kunzite - Konar Province, Afghanistan

     Kunzite – Konar Province, Afghanistan: Bijoux-et-mineraux  

Ah hum’s roots – I love

In strength Ah Hum’s emotions were the ground on which he was able to stand tall and fight in the name of love; whereas in situations of weakness his emotions were a pitiful flight of lost love. When his roots were nurtured, they gave him his positive determination to continue loving; when he abused them with spurned love, they spewed up a directionless lassitude which turned into resentment.

Love was a complex state of being that needed the support of powerful allies. Out of his alchemist’s calico bag he drew:

Hiddenite and orange blossom oil: tokens of heartfelt gratitude.

Aventurine crystals and melissa leaves: to symbolise the sweet harmony of spiritual and emotional growth.

Watermelon tourmaline and unction of nard: symbols of loving kindness since ancient times.

Rose quartz and rose oil: the eternal symbols of unconditional love.

Kunzite and palma rosa oil: the possession of which would induce a state of inner peace within him.

Allan Taylor,author Luanshya musings

Tourmaline crystal rain

Tourmaline 2Tourmaline

 

 

So Hum left the thick branches for the delicate higher ones, and that was when the tourmaline dream rains fell. It was a good move – So Hum felt love. His dream rain was a dream come true. He was in love with life. He had scraped together his entire being and with a quiver of excitement, was attempting to offer it to someone at the top of his rain tree.

He saw love as a gift bestowed upon him from high. It was a token of his bliss and he offered a gratitude for his existence.

In his simple dreams, his good intentions seemed to unfold effortlessly. It seemed that everything was in collusion and everything was going his way. He no longer felt the earlier needs to shy away from the dark or to look for others. All was one and one was all, and that’s all there was. His love of everything was proof of this cohesive state of being.

His gratitude poured out of him, then oozed out and then became a trickle before it dried up. This was because he started to take love for granted and love’s aethereal spirit departed to an imaginary distant shore. Was he ever a part of the eternal loving oneness that those pink and green rains had once promised him?

Allan Taylor, author. Luanshya musings

Love

Unconditional love African Soul

Love is a building block of an awareness that we ‘are’. We would not build upon our conscious awareness without the focused desire to be ‘one’ with someone – those are the mechanics of attraction that we loosely call love.  Without the first grain of love to build upon, our awareness, which is a wide open facet of our Soul, would drift quietly away from us in haphazard detachment and indifference. In such a vague state of existence we would not be given the chance of physical and cognitive growth in the swirl of universal happenings.

Allan Taylor, author Luanshya musings