So the elements of darkness in my life - mad baboons hanging around daily, seeming to be more desperate and lethal in their destruction since the fires burned their habitat, are balanced by the ultimate blessing of 2 wonderful, beautiful, healthy children (who also have their dark moments).
The intense natural beauty – juxtaposed by the drought, eerily burnt landscape, low water tanks.
Wonderfully loving, dishwashing, considerate, supportive husband – vs being far away from many of our loved ones.
The childrens’ magnificent school and the safe, quaint town of Knysna where everybody knows your name – vs the lack of shopping choices and the fact that everybody knows your name!
Having no dealings with Eskom but matching our available solar power to our ubiquitous need for electricity.
Etc.
Choosing this rural, off-the-grid life has had many positives but also has the same number of negatives – pretty much as it would be given any life we choose….
I find myself focusing on the negative, then find an equal positive and then redirect my thought to find the gratitude in the situation and feel the Love…it’s working for me.
The fact that I could walk home down a dirt road last night by the light of the moon beneath a star studded sky with my friends after our book club meeting is contrasted by the sad and tragic tale of our sweet little rabbits: Coco & Sarah, who we had for half a day. Our previous woofer Tommy, builder Chunky, myself and Kevin spent days building a fully enclosed rabbit cage (even hammering away in the rain). We finally fetched our bunnies from the Pezula Barnyard (posh rabbits, nogal!) and immersed ourselves in their utter sweetness for the afternoon only to find the chicken wire broken open by the dogs the next morning and the rabbits gone! We believed that the rabbits had gotten away and were living a short but joyful life in the forest, but made the grim discovery of a half-eaten bundle of black & white fur later in the afternoon.
The circle of life goes round and round.
***
“Van die os op die jas” as we say in Afrikaans (literally translated as “From the ox on the jacket”) meaning: and now for something completely different. Kevin has taken up Suduko to avert the loneliness and exercise his brain and we’re planning a family trip to Gauteng in April. The kids and I are very excited about the retail opportunities and the prospect of spending precious time with our loved ones of course.
Our friendly neighbour and fellow book club member recently reminded me of a phrase she found in “Eat, Pray, Love” which is very much applicable to us:
ANTEVASIN: A Sanskrit word meaning “one who lives at the border”. In ancient times this was a literal description. It indicated a person who had left the bustling centre of worldly life to go live at the edge of the forest where the spiritual masters dwelled. The antevasin was not one of the villagers anymore – not a householder with a conventional life. But neither was he a transcendent – not one of those sages who live deep in the unexplored woods, fully realised. The antevasin was an in-betweener. He was a border-dweller. He lived in sight of both worlds, but he looked toward the unknown. And he was a scholar.
