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

Earth people

self-love and preservation would force me to turn my fear-fettered awe into a spirit-governed respect and a sensual addiction to the power of the earth and its people wherever, and whoever, they may be: an addiction from which I would never escape, and never want to.

Allan Taylor, author Luanshya musings

African Soul baby

Earth people

African Soul girls

                         African Soul

My Soul is not mine

The boldest step I had to take in putting this book together was to totally accept my inkling that my Soul was not a possession of mine.

It is difficult to place a finger on my Soul; and it would seem that I have no jurisdiction over it to do so. My Soul has to be the better part of me; it is far more than I will ever be, either cognitively or physically. If ownership had to be attributed to either one of us, I would say the rest of me belongs to my Soul. If I were to describe this lofty proprietor of my being, I would say that it is the permanence and consistency that gives my day-to-day existence its relevance; but that the force it exerts, is difficult to describe; its actions equally challenging to define.

Allan Taylor author of Luanshya musings

African Soul

                         African Soul

The leopard

The leopard was like one of those elusive forms – those strange footprints that propelled me to follow my affinities and desires. He evoked an intangible force that weighed upon the behaviour of all creatures. His arrival sliced through the trivial monkey goings-on in the African bush. The leopard’s presence created an impala ear-twitching silence that punctuated the African day with its taloned intent – a final warning against any further frivolity. Slow-flow turned instantly into short-lived pain, a quick death and spilt blood when an unfortunate animal submitted its fear of self-preservation to the Soul of the leopard. There is not an animal on the veld that is unaware of the leopard’s ability to alter the psyche of the common herd.

Allan Taylor, author of Luanshya musings


Shenton Safaris Mfuwe

Unconditional love

Refractions of inner light – unconditional love

Unconditional: the state of cause and effect whereby a happening is neither affected by the past nor the future. It has escaped the threads of time-bound reasons for its being. Anything unconditional is in the state of the ‘Now’, a free zone in time, the only place where magic and miracles take place.

Unconditional love is a heartfelt expression of the miracle of oneness, a reunification of the mind and the body with the Soul. It is God’s greatest gift to man. It is his greatest miracle, the only miracle – the rest are repeated reflections of the original light of true love.

Allan Taylor Author of Luanshya musings – a boyish peek at an earth traveller’ Soul in full flight


An overbearing darkness

Evening going-homes as a small and only child, on the back seat of a fifties British Austin car, were frightening.

The n’anga’s, witchdoctor’s, drums were calling, they were always calling … I couldn’t hear them … they tapped a call of anxious urgency in my veins and on my mind. Happily relaxed after sundowners at the club, my parents couldn’t hear them: they weren’t meant to hear them…only I was.  Hugging my knees on the back seat, I tackled them alone in the colour-faded dusk, which turned forest shadows into canyons of fear. My thin frame, in high-waisted grey shorts, black lace-up shoes and three quarter socks pulled up to my little knees was a poor defence against the overbearing spread of spiritual dark that crept up on me on those vulnerable journeys home. ‘No we can’t drive with the interior light on,’ said my father with a slight beer slur of words.

Luanshya musings


Confusing sensuality with spirituality

Because I have the tendency not to want to distinguish between the philosophical, sensual and the spiritual, it is unavoidable that personal philosophies surface within my story: It also seems that emotions and their sensual and supernatural origins are easier for me to recall than the salient facts of my past. In writing this story, my memories hardly seemed to settle before drifting off again, leaving a smudge of philosophical mention between the lines as proof of their brief visit. They did, however, leave a common clue; they were always drawn to the familiar unknown: an enigmatic force which pulled at my awareness of things.

Luanshya musings