Monday, February 15, 2010

Rivers and rivers.

Tomorrow I go to Botswana for a week. It’s a yearly custom, everyone from my Sangoma lodge goes to ground, attend the necessary ceremonies, connect back in.


My memory of being there last year is of sitting in the bush crying because my relationship was falling apart and I already knew that some kind of separation was unavoidable. It was the beginning of the end, but it still took another 5 months for me to gather enough strength to leave and go overseas.

I’ve been crying for a year.

I think that’s enough now.

3 comments:

  1. Wonderful! Get over it, get creative, and get a life. The rest will follow.

    (I always say depression is being sad about being sad. Too much meta-stuff is what gets you stuck. Do your thinking about your thinking, and then drop it and do something different. If you can think about what you're going to do, if you can see yourself going somewhere and doing something, then it isn't different. It is non-sensical standing at a cliff, and saying to the Universe you trust it to catch you, but you don't jump.)

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  2. Thanks Anonamous, wise words indeed.

    I don't think I suffer from depression though. (Does this blog make it sound like I do??)

    For me depression is emotion not expressed that heaps up and eventually lies so heavily on a person that they can't get up. Not my scene.

    However, I do alot of process work, I enjoy the process of self-discovery and meet it head on. I would hope this blog conveys more of that in the long run.

    Thanks for your comment, I really appreciate it!

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  3. Not saying you are depressed, just an example of the kind of psychological loop one can get into. And you don't have to be stuck in bed to be depressed, that's perhaps just the a worst case scenario. Again, I don't think you're depressed, but we all can get a bit stuck sometimes. All the best.

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"And what does it live on?"
"Weak tea with cream in it."
A new difficulty came into Alice's head,
"Supposing it couldn't find any?" she suggested.
"Then it would die, ofcourse."
"But that must happen very often," Alice remarked thoughtfully.
"It always happens," said the Gnat.