I have a brother who invites me to say farewell to our eldest brother who is leaving for New Zealand: moving out, moving away, moving on. The family gathers and speaks words of good luck and good-bye. We feel as if we’re giving away a precious part of ourselves. And maybe this time this giving away is giving away too much.
A man tells me as a little boy he was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the first rose he saw that he ate it. If I stand outside with this man while the rain is watering his earth, he will smile. And the air around us will be light with the fragrance of roses.
They tell me about a woman whose mother I knew. They say angry men stole into her house one night while she was sleeping and robbed her of her dreams. She woke up into an emptiness she couldn’t understand. One day, they say, she thought her emptiness was real and she took her own life away.
I have a dog who needs food and water and visits to the vet. He looks at me as if I know everything – as if what I don’t know doesn’t matter. I breathe his knowing into me and laugh with the fullness of it. My dog wriggles because I laugh for both of us.
A friend of mine sits on a high, high hill far, far away. He writes little bits of dreams on postcards. He says the women of Jordan are beautiful and that he believes in his own life. He says his God is good to him. When I read his words I touch the whisper of a lonely wind in them.
At 8 o’clock in the morning a friend phones to ask me how I am. In the caring silence she leaves open for me I jumble words which I don’t yet know how to speak. But it’s okay. She’s my friend and she phones because of love – not for perfect words.
A woman has a broken heart. She invites me into her house to show me all the bits of broken dreams lying at her feet. We hold together and hurt together. We talk until her words aren’t bleeding anymore, until we can sweep away the dream pieces so they don’t cut her bare feet.
I have a garden full of leaves so green they take me into a dreaming. They bless me with flowers so real I can hold them in prayerful fingers only.
When my children hurt their eyes go dark and silent and close like doors. When joy is giving them words their eyes laugh sunshine into me and I am fragranced with yellow.
There is a woman who sews silver slippers with little bells on them. She gives them to her friends because no matter how many pretty words she knows, the happiness they give her cannot be written down – it wants to be danced.
I sit outside in the evening and wonder where the moon is. Spirit feels my longing and moves a cloud aside, giving me a perfect moon.
Then I know – because of the silver moonsong humming me – that life is full enough and beautiful enough to hurt … and I embrace my reality.
In South Africa today security plays a vital part in any business or private home. This book and the volumes to follow, will guide you step by step through the essential precautionary measures to be taken in protecting your family and valuables. From employing security guards, evacuation of your site and security measures to burglar bars and alarms in your private home.
a Book compiled by me from experience gained after 10 years in the security industry as Industrial relations officer with Nosa qualifications, 1st Aid, fire protection and also S.O.B. grade A.
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