Morning at Kubu Island, Botswana: The Hand Of Nature.

Rocks, foliage, bare trees take the early light.

 I lie propped up on my elbow, watching the sunlight as it furtively sneaks through the cracks between the drapes and slowly creeps down the wall highlighting each imperfection in shadowed relief. Moving on ever nearer to her sleeping body, golden light creeps across her pillow, laying its gentle touch upon her. Slowly, softly, fingers of light delicately but deliberately advancing, stroking her hair, silkily feeling their way down her exposed neck, playing lightly upon her shoulders, then rising up on rounded contours of breasts... the soft down on her naked arms glowing as the light shines across her skin.

Perfection.

 I look... not moving, not wishing to waken my sleeping lover. This delicious moment is for me to enjoy, savour and feast my senses upon. Form... texture... gentle curves... shadows... tranquility: the moving light accentuates these, leading my eyes with it.

 She sleeps on, unaware.



  I awake with a start! That Italian snoring in the over-cab tent next to me! Bum! The moment lost. Gone so quickly.

 What was I dreaming of? Oh yeah... light creeping across all those curves and contours...forms and textures on sensual display just for me. Oh, I would be so lucky. Yeah, right!

 Lightening up outside. Wow, It's morning! Brain kicks into gear... but she is waiting for me!

 I have a date with the most sensuous woman I know - Mother Nature... and that light lasts such a short time. She'll be revealing all her charms just for me if I get there on time!

 You know the feeling too. You've seen that sunlight in the 'Golden Hour' send light dancing across your partner's skin! You've watched too, so you know the anticipation I feel as I dress, don my thick fleece for the chilly morning air, find my camera, stuff extra batteries in my pockets, then none too smoothly unzip the opening of the over-cab tent and stealthily climb down the ladder, but set the Hi-lux gently rocking. The snoring stops. Oh well, can't be helped. Hopefully, waking her may encourage her to get up and get that camping expresso machine on the boil for a hot cup when I get back. She's never offered me one yet...I have to settle for instant.

  I have to be out there! On the rocks! That Italian did me a favour waking me up: it's 5am already!

 "Hurry Jim." for I will attend Nature's morning show all on my own! Kubu Island awakes soon.



I climb up on the rocks, take a few pics then await the brightening glow on the far horizon.

 Now you don't wander alone around African koppes in the dark. Too many dangers to be out on your own. Leopard territory! But I had figured that there shouldn't be any leopard around Kubu Island as there was no water, the nearest being 100 kms away. And game migrates to where water is, predators follow them. Snakes can be a concern in rocky terrain; lots of hiding places and rocks to warm up on in the sun. As it was winter, hopefully they were hibernating. None too convinced, as I climb over the rocks I keep an eye on where I am stepping.

 The previous evening I had worked out angles, direction of light and shadows, and noted interesting features like rocks and twisted trees, so I knew where I wanted to be and when, in relation to the position of the sun as it rose higher.

 Baobab and star chestnut trees I shoot in silhouette early on. Later as the sun moves higher, I'll shoot them with the low sunlight straight on, but after I have been out on the pans for the first blaze of the morning sun over the horizon.



First ray of sun on the horizon.



 It occurs to me that photography allows me to be like an artist who paints colours and textures on canvas, but using the camera I can create visual scenes from the multi media that Nature supplies- rocks, trees, foliage, terrain, and sun light.

 I begin to paint-

I move around Kubu Island using trees and scrub to create my pictures.

 Then I notice in the distance an old, wrinkled, gnarly figure, reaching his arms out towards the warmth of the rising sun.

 Images of an old homeless man, ragged and dishevelled, hunched over a brazier on a dark winter's street fill my mind. He doesn't see me. I move closer silently, not wanting to disturb his entreaty for comfort from the new blazing sun.

I have no wish to humiliate him by letting him see me taking his picture, so I zoom the lens in and capture his embrace for warmth.

Sometimes it's best to leave an old man alone, undisturbed with their dignity intact.

Nature breathes new warmth and light across the land: old trees and ancient rocks absorb it. They glow red in the light...just for me.





The hand of Nature?

Can you see the outstretched hand in the foreground rocks?



Morning at Kubu Island, Botswana: The Hand Of Nature.

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Why I'm still a handsome guy.

Some years ago I began to practise a self taught form of immediate meditation. I didn't realise it was like meditation until I started reading about Buddhism and came across meditation techniques, and thought yeah, that's similar to what I'm doing, but I don't take all day over it. And I don't count breaths, nor stare at my belly button for hours. I've been on a long journey since 1972, trying to understand and develop intuitive abilities. Why? Well it has been a guide throughout my life, and has lead me down interesting pathways in my career and family life.

1972, NZ Territorial Army training. Our intake was one of the last to train with the Sten submachine gun as the Army was adopting the US AR-15 M16 Armalite. The Sten was a cheap, blow-back action sub-machine gun, mass produced during WW11, which could fire 9mm rounds on single or automatic. Our platoon was ecstatic because all of us testosterone driven kids would finally fire a sub-machine gun instead of the single fire FN SLR  we were lugging around. Heavy brutes.

Sten gun, Pic ex Wikipedia.

Our platoon was briefed by the Armourer NCO about the Sten's capabilities, how to use it, safety and then finished off with a quick summary of known problems, explaining that because the Sten and it's ammo were old, and cheaply mass manufactured, it could experience blockages, where a round gets stuck in the spout. If you pull the trigger again, or on auto, then the next round colliding with the stuck round will blow up the gun, and send the breech block backwards taking your jaw with it.

"But don't worry chaps because in all my 19 years in the Army, I've never seen it happen!"

Our squad were second up on the firing mounds to fire 10 rounds single shot, aimed with the gun held up by our faces for sighting. I pulled the trigger once, then again...and my finger froze... as somewhere in my mind a voice said "Don't pull the trigger, Jim!"
I froze, finger on the trigger, and I just knew I cannot fire again.
"Soldier, keep firing !" yells the Rangemaster .
"No Sargent. I'm not firing"
"Keep firing. You're holding up the squad!" he yelled again.
I made safe the weapon, stepped down off the mound, and presented the gun to the advancing irate Sargent.
He checked the weapon, opened the breech then looked down the bore and went white! I still remember the look on his face as he realised there was a round stuck in the bore.
Had I pulled that trigger again, I'd not be the handsome fellow I am today! And he'd ordered me to fire....

A hurried conversation between NCO's and Officers and the gun was sent off to the armoury. Then the Sargent comes over to me, and asked me how I knew.
What could I say...a voice in my head? They'd send me off to sick bay.
"I just knew, Sargent." I said.
"You couldn't just know, Lance Corporal".
I shrug my shoulders and repeated, '' I just knew, Sargent".

A voice in my head... Well since then it has happened many times often when a danger might present, or a major decision is required. Either as if someone has spoken to me, or as a very strong impression that something has to be done a certain way, or an event or decision needs me to take a certain action.

It's a very strong certainty of knowing the correct decision.

It's called instinct, or intuition, many of us have it, most of us ignore it in preference to using logical or rational thinking. Over the years that event has stuck in my mind and I have tried to heighten that ability.

A quote from a Buddhist website-
"Detachment, objectivity, is an invaluable aid to clear thinking; it enables a man to sum up a given situation without bias, personal or otherwise, and to act in that situation with courage and discretion."

My way is just a quickie way of finding that detachment from the moment, voiding your mind of any thoughts, ignoring any outside influences, knowing the difference between feelings of want or greed, objectivity, etc, and just allowing a 'reading' of what your inner self, or your intuition is telling you about any situation you are in, or any dilemma you are facing. Allowing your intuitive response to occur rather than swamping it with our rational, logical mind. Can be done very quickly.

We all have intuition, well most of us anyway, but we're never taught to use it and instead we blanket, smother, or discourage it, because our education, and our social conditioning teaches us that whenever we make a decision we've got to have logical reasons for making that choice or taking that action. Hey, you can't just do it! You've got to have a reason, a logical reason. The figures have got to stack up.

After a while you begin to read what your instinct is telling you.And it's always right, often contrary to the logical analytical answer.
But more of us may be able to develop their intuition by adopting a similar meditation technique.
After all, it's just another way of altering your consciousness, and all the religions and beliefs in this world adopt different means to achieve the same inner peace, the same type of answer from within, perhaps?

Readers might like to read this story, it's true by the way, about an incident that happened when visiting Tuol Sleng, Phnom Pehn, Cambodia.
The Traveller World Guide
In strange, intimidating, or new situations, or when needing to make a decision I try to use my perceptive abilities, by practising a form of quickie meditation, blanking out my mind, ignoring any outside influences, and seeking that immediate inner intuitive response. Over the years this ability to sense influences in my surroundings, or happenings to loved ones has been a rather interesting journey.
There are many more stories.......

Why I'm still a handsome guy.

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The Cobbler's Ghost: My Friend.

Here's a wee tale to kick it off for Halloween.


On our trip around Ethiopia and Scotland there were several weird happenings.

Under Edinburgh's Royal Mile, recently discovered, is a warren of covered over old cellars, streets and  houses. Covered over after the Black Death era, and long since forgotten, reopened about 1979 I think. Anyway, today walking tours take you under to explore this damp, dark, unlit labyrinth.
So we sign on for the Dungeons and Ghosts Tour and get shown around the hanging sites in the Royal Mile and then go underground. Our guide takes our group of 19 down and through several cellars, telling us about all the ghosts that have been seen down there.

As we walk into one of the larger cellars, I am not quite sure why, but being towards the front I walk in to the cellar and go to the far end and place myself in the very left corner...just because I thought I felt most comfortable there. Just seemed to me I should be there...no where else. I'm now looking back at everyone else arranged in a semi-circle facing me, with our guide against the centre of my end wall facing back at them. I'm on his extreme right.

Anyway, he starts telling us all about the 3 ghosts that inhabit the room. When he gets to the last ghost story he turns to point dramatically at my corner, directly at me, and says "And in this corner there is a cobbler!"

Well.....Jimshu? I am a custom shoemaker. Go figure....

"He's a nice guy. Older, slightly balding and he's looked at all your shoes you're wearing. And he likes you all being here" Sure, I'd sized everyone up by then. And I'm quite nice... well often.

I'm straight faced, reach out to my left and hug this 'ghost' standing next to me, my arm around thin air as if hugging a friend. My wife is cracking up. I don't let on that indeed there is a cobbler right in the spot he pointed to:  me...and my new found friend.

Then we get taken into a room for a wine in another underground cellar and everyone by now is scared and start telling of their past encounters with ghosts. Now normally that would be an entrée for me to get going, but strangely I shut up and kept quiet and never let on that indeed there was a cobbler standing in that corner. In fact there were 2!

So how did I know it was the right place for me to stand ? All I remember is thinking to myself I would feel most comfortable standing there. That was where I, as a cobbler, should be.

My wife meantime is rearing to get going and tell the guide that she did see the cobbler standing there. Well she certainly did!  She still wonders why I didn't let on that I was in fact a cobbler.

Perhaps it was between me and my cobbler mate to share in? It was our joke. A joke between two old cobblers, who are really nice guys...we wouldn't want to scare anyone now would we?.

(We aren't cobblers really, that's a shoe repairer - the term for we shoemakers is cordwainers but people commonly refer to us as cobblers.) 

The Cobbler's Ghost: My Friend.

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Analytical Versus Intuitive Decision Making.

Interesting article I read sometime ago.
In it, the writer says, that most of us, given the chance to live life again, would end up as we already are or in a similar position.
Why?
Because most of us, will not recognise the life changing moments when they come along next time around. Or if we do, we won't have the courage to seize the opportunity, and change our life.
We're timid. We're creatures of habit. We like our known comforts. Given the same opportunity, we'd err on the cautious side and make the same choices again. The known is always more comforting than the unknown.
Very few of us break out early. Most of us settle for the known. And some that do , don't do enough preparation and find things don't work out, find disappointment, and slip back into their old pattern.
And most of us don't think about HOW we make our decision.

So how do we know how to choose the correct way, or make the right decision? How do we change our lives for good? How do we get out of that cubicle and take make that critical step on your big journey?

Google 'intuitive decision making' and you'll come up with many sites that discuss Analytical thinking and Intuitive thinking.
Social conditioning ,education, peer pressure etc,teach us to use analytical thinking. Because how can you teach intuitive thinking or using that gut instinct to best advantage? Those of us who do make gut instinct decisions, are often making analytical decisions, because what we think is our gut instinct is often just the sub conscious use of all our accumulated wisdom and experience or knowledge gained.
But true intuitive decision making , is a method I believe more of us could practice as a guide for life.
So when you're asking yourself the question "Should I toss in my job and change my life?" analytical thinking often won't give you the correct answer for yourself. It'll probably tell you to get stuck in and earn more dollars to pay that mortgage! LOL.
But Intuitive decision making will often provide an answer which is completely in conflict with an answer derived from the analytical approach. But it will be the correct answer for yourself!
The Intuitive approach, once you have 'mastered' the method can only provide the correct answer. How?Well, if you have the confidence to use intuitive thinking, every decision you make will be the correct one for yourself.
Whereas, analytical decision making may give you the correct answer based on the known facts. But it can still be the wrong one for yourself,because it doesn't answer your hidden needs or feelings. And often these needs are more overpowering in the longer term, than the need to pay off that mortgage.
So the point I wish to make is this-
It is how you decide! How do you make that decision?
I've been in that position 27 years ago. And made an intuitive decision to throw up a high paying corporate management career, to become a cobbler in my garage, against all the facts,all the rules, and social expectations.
But I 'knew' it was the correct decision.
So how did I know it was the correct decision? How could I have known that when I have a wife, 3 children under 5,a huge mortgage,bills to pay, etc, that I should walk away from a high paying but disastisfying management  career, to obscurity making a few shoes in my garage? And when I finally tell my wife what  I have done, you see her worry so much, she goes and gets a job washing dishes at a local restaurant to ensure some money comes in. Oh what a big heel I thought I was. But yet, inside me, another voice was saying,you stick with it Jim. And just a few months later, enough money was being earnt to provide, as a husband  and father should! And a few years later,life was sweet!
I have long pondered that decision. But it boils down to knowing that instinct was telling me what to do, and having the guts to go do it. Intuition,foresight or psychic perception, whatever was telling me the way forward for my future and my family's. That intuition proved correct and in facing any future dilemas or crisis I began to trust it.
Long afterward , facing up to another awkward situation, someone asked me how could I make such a tough decision so decisively. And the guy remarked how others just couldn't make such a decision. My answer was, that years ago I made a very tough decision. Having made that, no situation I could ever face, would ever be so tough to decide. Everything else came easy.
The toughest decisions, faced up to early and resolved in accordance with your intuitive responses pave the way.Life is now easy. We still cherish each other,have 3 fine grown up children,we both have occupations we love,and we have the means to travel when we want.





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Analytical Versus Intuitive Decision Making.

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Fw: Ethiopia 4 The ambulance is returning.....

 

 Ethiopia 4 The ambulance is returning.....

 

There's been a war going on using bacterialogical weapons.and I just lost! In preparation for this trip,knowing the very basic conditions we'd experience, we took Dukerol as a preventative against traveller's diarea. Dukerol is a vaccine against a wide range of bacterial illnesses in the Cholera family, and will help you avoid a lot of nasties.But not effective against everything.It's a 2 shot course, and at $50 a shot you really do want it to work! Supposed to adjust your intestinal microbial flora so they can fight off invasion from Cholera and similar bacteria.

So yesterday( I started this blog 12 days ago but have only finished it today) was a massive defeat for my guts and the price of defeat was a day in bed.We're at 2,500 metres and the altitude coupled with feeling ill is sapping. But we managed to get out in the morning.We visited the Red Terror Martyrs Museum.This opened in May 2010 as a monument to the millions that died in Ethiopia of murder,or starvation during the time of the Socialist DERG rule after the overthrow of Emporer Haile Selassie.In many ways there are parellels with the Cambodia Pol Pot era. A popular revolutionary movement, and it's ideals being hijacked by 1 man and his cohorts with an extreme ideology and a will to eliminate any opposition.

We walked into the reception area and asked at the desk if we need to pay.The staff cheerfully indicated we can make a donation if we wished.Quite a cheerful exchange as we explained we'd like to visit just to learn more about Ethiopia's recent history.

We entered through the door on the left,expecting just some historical portrayal of that period.I took two steps through the door and stopped.I don't have the words to describe how I felt.Something was getting at me.I hadn't even looked at any of the many photo displays, but felt a huge sense of grief, and loss. The only way of describing how I felt was as if some tragedy had taken a loved one or close friend.

I said to Kay "There's something strange about this place."

"In what way?"

"There's something weird I can feel here."

We moved on, viewing the sometimes graphic and very moving images from Ethiopia's DERG era of Socialist rule from the deposition of Haile Selassie in 1979 to the revolution against the DERG in 1991. I have viewed many war displays,watched and read countless films and books on human conflict, and have remained dispassionate to such portrayals of woundings and deaths.But as we moved further through the museum,I felt even stronger feelings as if I was attending a funeral of someone very close to me.That's the only way I can describe it. I somehow felt as if those feelings were coming at me, rather than from within. I have felt this sensing of other worldliness or spirits reaching out before, at Tuol Sleng, S21 Museum in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia. And I was beginning to think that I could only be walking closer towards  death and earthbound spirits. But why here? It was just a museum with photo displays afterall. In such a situation I would normally blank out my mind and try and sense or feel what, if any other influences were around me. But with a queasy stomach and slight nausea there was no way I could truly meditate into sensing that "other world".

I moved on, barely looking.

At the very end of the displays, when those feelings were strongest,I came across a display of coffins, each open and holding the remains of clothing items once worn by some of the slaughtered. I stopped to read a sign beside a doorway  and this said that the families and relatives wanted the remains of the victims to remain in the Martyrs Museum.Through the doorway were about 10 coffins, flag shrouded, laying on the floor.These contained the exhumed remains of victims of the DERG regime.

I stood in the doorway,and found myself saying a silent prayer for them. Slowly that depressing and tortured feeling lifted, and a calm peace settled upon me.

 

The Red Terror Martyrs Museum opened in May this year. We had seen no literature about it prior to our visit. We had spotted it's new modern building as we taxied down Bolle Road and noted it to visit if we found time. So we knew nothing of any of it's contents.

And in Mekele, capital of Tigray province we visited there, the huge museum to the liberation from the DERG. Many of the photos at the Red Terror Martyrs Museum were copies of the Mekele Museum. But as I walked through that museum,I felt nothing. It was just a museum with the expected war relics and photos.

The difference, for me anyway, is that the Red Terror Martyrs Museum is also a mausoleum.

 

Perhaps there are spirits there? Perhaps those are the souls of those victims who died  so violently after torture and humiliation? Are they reaching out?

 

As I write this,the Ras hotel staff are crying. One after the other,grief breaks out. I look out our window at staff grouped in the car park, many crying , and wringing their hands, or comforting each other. There's been another staff death Kay was told by the desk boy.

 "Another?"

"Yes the second  today!"

I had seen an ambulance leave the hotel car park 4 hours ago taking the first away.And now it is returning......

We never did find out the cause of the hotel deaths.

 

 

 

 

Fw: Ethiopia 4 The ambulance is returning.....

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That tingly feeling....

Just back from exploring the Kimberley region of Western Australia, and this stands out as a highlight of our adventure.

Anyone had anything like this happen?
We visited a Buddhist Sanctuary at Cable Beach Club Resort in Broome, W.A. just a few days ago.
Buddha Sanctuary

There's a curious energy about the place. A member of our convoy took us there on our last day. As we walked up my senses picked up a strong presence or energy surrounding the entrance, and while the others walked in with their shoes on, there was no way I could walk in without removing them. We've visited many temples, shrines, etc in our travels and most require you to leave your shoes at the door, but I have never experienced this energy before.

There was something I can only describe as a welcoming 'wall' of energy at the door: I couldn't see it, but it was there. I couldn't bring myself to enter, until I'd removed my shoes. And having done that, that 'resistance' faded, well more like being able to flow through me rather than being blocked. I followed my companions into the large hall which opened out onto the courtyard and timber decking. Then as we walked into that courtyard and approached the statue, my fingers started tingling. That spread to my hands, then all through my arms. They felt warm, and full of pulsing energy. Gee, I was just not prepared for that. I asked our lady guide to feel my hands and when she did, hers in comparison felt to be icy cold. Weird feeling.

She's mixed race descent (Aboriginal/European) and quite intuitive. And told me I was receiving the energy of the place. It was strongest up by the statue where my arms felt hot and pulsing.

So she said to have a talk with the lady that looks after the centre, who said it was nothing unusual as many experience it, some so strong they cry. Apparently the spiritual leader had recently revisited the centre to 'recharge' the place.

It's something I was quite unprepared for. But they have links with sites back in NZ so may go seek it out and see where it takes me, being better psychologically prepared. It was a wonderful feeling as if my hands and arms were charging and flowing with energy.

And now everytime I think about it, some of that feeling comes back.

That tingly feeling....

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Dreaming......?

Nomadic Matt and Gap Adventures are giving this trip away! Costa Rica Explorer 2 weeks and airfares!And this is what I'm entering- Enjoy.

I need to go to Costa Rica, and say goodbye to a friend.

The image was not clear. My surroundings unrecognisable. Ropes ran overhead, supporting some structure I could only guess was a wooden swing bridge disappearing into the mist, obscuring the other side of what appeared to be a deep canyon. To my right, higher up, other people clustered at the base of another set of ropes, which also ran into the mists.

The vision spun around as I flew down to the base of the hillside. A body clad in a blue top. Dead. Someone familiar, close to me.

Who? Where? What was all this? So real, but so unclear. Why did I dream this?

Waking, the visions clear in my mind, I move on with life but the memory retained.

A few weeks later, awaking I’m aware of a terrible black cloud in my mind depressing me, affecting my mood all day...depression I’ve rarely experienced. So asking myself what’s wrong, the intuitive response is someone close to me is in distress. It’s January 7th. But what can I do about it? Nothing but hope.

We carry on enjoying the Gold Coasts attractions and glorious weather.

Returning home there’s a call from a long time friend, Leo. He relates the news that our friend Neil had died suddenly of a heart attack while on holiday. I ask when this happened.

“January 7th”says Leo. He goes on to tell me, Neil died soon after ziplining in Monte Verde, Costa Rica.

Neil and I had been buddies since way back. Both sales representatives reporting to Leo, our Marketing Manager. Hard to fathom how a friend who you’ve known so long, and travelled countries with, just ain’t going to be around anymore. No chance for farewells.

We’d known Neil and V were off to USA to visit family. And taken notice that they would fly down to Costa Rica to go on a Gap Adventures tour. But that was all we’d known of Costa Rica. And as for ziplines? What are they? We call those flying foxes.

I then remember that vision. I’m not yet convinced it was precognition, but I set out to investigate his death. I google Gap and eventually arrive at their travel forum - The Wateringhole http://wateringhole.gapadventures.com/index.php and register. Around that time, I ask on the forum about ziplining. A member posts a link to Monte Verde where I scroll through photos, coming across one that shows clearly my vision. There is a photo showing a suspended canopy boardwalk, ( my swing bridge or so I had thought it,) and adjacent to it is the zipline, my other set of ropes! Things fell into place. The mist is commonly talked about by those who have ziplined. How do you ‘see’ something you know nothing about?Intuition? Perception?

V arrives home distraught. And we visit. Driving there, I’m talking with my wife about the vision, and I say I’m going to ask V what colour top Neil was wearing when he died. So eventually after talking with V, I ask. She says his green anorak because it was so wet and misty. And he collapsed, in the van soon after completing his turn just before the tour was to leave Monte Verde.

“But I’ve just got pics of our trip developed, and you’ll want to see the last photo I took of Neil in the hut where we waited for everyone to finish!”

V showed me his photo. There was Neil standing there ….wearing a blue sweatshirt! He’d removed his green anorak by then.!

I’m convinced now I’d seen a glimpse of the future. I’m privileged to have been so close to my friend.

But in closing, a special word for Gap.

V tells me, that Gap handled this tragedy so well. Badly upset, unable to wade through the hospital and autopsy bureaucracy alone in a strange country, a special Gap representative flew down to help handle it all. V has only praise for Gap.

So Costa Rica is a special destination for me, and my wife, because we need to say a real farewell. I’ve now read so much about the country. It seems a wonderful destination and we’re drawn to it. And for others, this has taught us that life itself is the journey. Travel slowly, long and far!

http://wateringhole.gapadventures.com/index.php


http://www.nomadicmatt.com/travel-blogs/win-a-free-2-week-trip-to-costa-rica/
http://www.gapadventures.com/

Dreaming......?

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