It's funny how the world and the perception of relationships, love and loving has changed. People no longer want each other. They want what you have.
These days couples, rarely associate their real affection to each to something godly and beyond their conception. Something that crabs their inner being and carries it......just because. A man and woman, a man and a man, a woman and woman - couples no longer find cosmic correlation to being in love and being loved.
Love, being loved and being in love is a realism to materialism.
Take a rose that stands on the noisy, humanised concrete, and compare it with the a rose that stands in the quite hot desert . The one gets nourishment and affection from knowing eyes of appreciation, and untimed rains that come and go mysteriously - love. Whilst the other feels the scorching eyes of the hydro draining heat, finally immolated without ever being seen, picked or known - no love.
Would you rather stand in the desert with a sunny incendiary Blesser, and be consumed by an inimical, unaffectionate, heinous, greedy person? Or you would rather stand on the noisy humanised concrete?
Keep this in mind, a materialistic seeking mind has impetuous, quixotic, ill-starred condition to it, hence its short-life-span filled with sexual, emotional and physical abuse - at times immolates a person, unconditionally.
Most would argue that, 'love pays no bills', but is a life without love and being truly loved worth living.
In this day and life, it's what you have materially, that crabs a person's affection for you. Not who you are..... and who you are, that's another whole debate on it's own.
WORD TO THE LOVE AND AFFECTION REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
Contact Sakazi cell: +27719727764
Saturday, November 11, 2017
Thursday, March 3, 2016
THE VOICES I HEARD WHEN I GOT MY CALLING
This is a first: I have never talked about my experiences that encompassed my "Calling" as a Spiritual Healer. Many in my family have vociferous opinions, wondered and speculated about my journeys into the my spiritual descent, affirmation, bonding, acceptance and ascendance. A child of the Ancestors.
As a supposedly anointed 'child of the ancestors'' my journey of initiation into my Heal-Hood was a smooth transitional, traditional process that had only a few hiccups, here and there - alike many who venture into their own Calling process, only to find that they've delved themselves into a tumultuous road of concussion, madness, and no returns. Mines, in comparison, was a smooth sailing ship across the ocean of purity. I was very lucky.
The voices I heard when I got my Calling, were a gradual manifestation of who I am and will be in the coming life - a Spiritual Healer.
The voices started when I was very young, in fact they started as far back as when I was a toddler, manifesting in dreams, that turned me into a 'sleepwalker'.
In my dreams I was always in pursuit of a 'river maiden' that always called me to come play with her. She was light as snow and had white dress on and she was my age, but much clever and articulate than I was at that age. She always wanted to play. However, we always seem to lose each other in the daylight of night, and never really arrived to any particular playground or field, but she always wanted to play.
The 'river maiden' was accompanied by an older woman who manifested as 'the mother' of the maiden. It was she, the mother that ended our playtime in my dreams, and I would then wakeup only to find myself a few meters away from my bedroom door.
At times an adult in the house would hear sounds in the night and come into my room, only to find me stand a talking to someone that isn't there - a young girl.
During breakfast, on Saturday or Sunday mornings I got grilled about this girl, her origins, who was she, and when are they going to meet her. The problem was, she only lived in my dreams., and had lived there never since I could remember.
When I was in primary-school, my girl, the 'river maiden' appeared my dream at my grandparent's place in Katlehong and ask me to come out and play. Now, the problem here was that I had fallen asleep whilst everyone was still watching television, a while before bedtime, and everyone was surprised when my sleeping self stood up and walked into the yard, where all the renovation equipment was packed and started casing after an invisible person, laughing and pointing. Until my grandfather interrupted my play by waking me up with a stern voice of disapproval, of me playing in the yard at night. My girl ran away, and I dreamingly pursued her, only to realise halfway during my pursuit that my grandfather was shout at me. I woke up! Turned and looked at my grandfather, turned and looked at my girl, who was surprisingly, still visible as she ran into the the daylight of night. She turned back and smiled at me, but I was by now in all tears and crying after her. My grandfather shout something that was lost in the darkness behind me. I looked at the ground in front of me, that was still daylight of night. Half awake and half asleep, I fell hard, face-down into the concrete ground that become dark. And my girl was gone. My face was bruised for days.
She never come in my dreams after that occurrence, but in highschool I started hearing her and her mother calling my name at sporadic moments: at times when I was in the library, the girl will call me and i would go in the direction she was calling, and there i would find a very interesting book to read; at times the the mother would calling and I would change my direction, only find that I averted a life threatening situation.
And so began my Calling................
WORD TO THE CALLING REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
As a supposedly anointed 'child of the ancestors'' my journey of initiation into my Heal-Hood was a smooth transitional, traditional process that had only a few hiccups, here and there - alike many who venture into their own Calling process, only to find that they've delved themselves into a tumultuous road of concussion, madness, and no returns. Mines, in comparison, was a smooth sailing ship across the ocean of purity. I was very lucky.
The voices I heard when I got my Calling, were a gradual manifestation of who I am and will be in the coming life - a Spiritual Healer.
The voices started when I was very young, in fact they started as far back as when I was a toddler, manifesting in dreams, that turned me into a 'sleepwalker'.
In my dreams I was always in pursuit of a 'river maiden' that always called me to come play with her. She was light as snow and had white dress on and she was my age, but much clever and articulate than I was at that age. She always wanted to play. However, we always seem to lose each other in the daylight of night, and never really arrived to any particular playground or field, but she always wanted to play.
The 'river maiden' was accompanied by an older woman who manifested as 'the mother' of the maiden. It was she, the mother that ended our playtime in my dreams, and I would then wakeup only to find myself a few meters away from my bedroom door.
At times an adult in the house would hear sounds in the night and come into my room, only to find me stand a talking to someone that isn't there - a young girl.
During breakfast, on Saturday or Sunday mornings I got grilled about this girl, her origins, who was she, and when are they going to meet her. The problem was, she only lived in my dreams., and had lived there never since I could remember.
When I was in primary-school, my girl, the 'river maiden' appeared my dream at my grandparent's place in Katlehong and ask me to come out and play. Now, the problem here was that I had fallen asleep whilst everyone was still watching television, a while before bedtime, and everyone was surprised when my sleeping self stood up and walked into the yard, where all the renovation equipment was packed and started casing after an invisible person, laughing and pointing. Until my grandfather interrupted my play by waking me up with a stern voice of disapproval, of me playing in the yard at night. My girl ran away, and I dreamingly pursued her, only to realise halfway during my pursuit that my grandfather was shout at me. I woke up! Turned and looked at my grandfather, turned and looked at my girl, who was surprisingly, still visible as she ran into the the daylight of night. She turned back and smiled at me, but I was by now in all tears and crying after her. My grandfather shout something that was lost in the darkness behind me. I looked at the ground in front of me, that was still daylight of night. Half awake and half asleep, I fell hard, face-down into the concrete ground that become dark. And my girl was gone. My face was bruised for days.
She never come in my dreams after that occurrence, but in highschool I started hearing her and her mother calling my name at sporadic moments: at times when I was in the library, the girl will call me and i would go in the direction she was calling, and there i would find a very interesting book to read; at times the the mother would calling and I would change my direction, only find that I averted a life threatening situation.
And so began my Calling................
WORD TO THE CALLING REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
Thursday, February 18, 2016
WHEN IT ALL CEASES TO MAKE SENSE…. GO ON
Sakazi L. Thwala |
Relationships are very important, and do shape the type of
person you become – relationships characterise contributions you make towards
others and formant a rhythmic path that will either lead to a note worthy
success, or a derailment, the end of
you, who and what you are, forever.
In all your relationships, you have to find balance, a sense
of who you are and never lose your individualistic path to growth, enlightenment,
peace, love, and benevolent transcendence.
Even when it ceases to make sense – as to why do you need to
maintain a certain relationship. Who are you doing it for, and for what reasons
does it need to be maintained.
A note to self: When it all ceases to make sense… Go on
living, and all will make sense at a certain moment of your life, when you
least expect it to.
Don't give up. It will dawn on you*
Don't give up. It will dawn on you*
WORD TO THE HUMAN VOICE REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
AN OUTCAST..... FOR NOT HAVING CHILDREN
Having children is a life changing decision that needs, two, if not one
strong-headed couple, or individuals to jump
into. Like marriage, having children can alter one’s outlook on life and decision-making process because, when you have children , they most
likely will come first in whatever move or decision you make. Having children is a life changing decision.
Can an individual be an outcast for deciding ‘not to have
children’?
Well, it seems that a number of individuals who choose not to have
children are subjected to some form of abuse, one way or another. This abuse
can come from a family member, a friend or friends, work colleagues, your peers
and in some cases, neighbours.
It is true that when you don’t
have children, you have time in your hands to do whatever your heart desires during
your leisure times. It is equally true that, when you don’t have children you
can actually have more money to spend towards anything you want or need because
you can afford it. Conversely, some
couples or individuals cannot, cannot afford to have their own children.
Individuals who feel the struggle of bearing children, and the humongous responsibility that comes with “having
children” , can be shrew towards those who can’t bear children, towards those who
will be financially incapable to provide
for their own children, if they had them.
Some ill-hearted individuals feel that it is socially unacceptable if a
couple or an individual doesn’t have children, when they themselves are fully
fledged, and can take care of themselves.
It is a well-known fact that some babies are conceived, without any
formative plan, and are branded a ‘problem’ and in some cases are left on the side of the
road to be picked up by a drifter motorist or pedestrian, then taken to a
Children’s Home - the worst scenario: these ‘problem’ babies are left to die and
do die because, no one saves them.
Personally, I don’t have children because, I feel that having children
is a very significant arrangement between two individuals, that can alter their
progress in life, for the worst or for the good, taking into cognisance, the
little person or little people that you are bringing into this world.
I personally feel , one needs to have children with an individual that
is prepared to compromise; prepared to be willingly be a mother or father; prepared to provide for their
child (ren) ; prepared to strive to be emotionally and physically available. Be
prepared to love and protect no matter what happens.
When you have children doesn’t mean that the next individual that doesn’t
is no human being and is an outcast. Labelling those who don’t have children as
outcasts, creates a bias social cohesion
– a social cohesion which is initially base on choice.
WORD TO THE LET’S HAVE CHILDREN
REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
Contact: 0719727764
e-mail: lindasakazithwala@gmail.com
Contact: 0719727764
e-mail: lindasakazithwala@gmail.com
Monday, April 27, 2015
Thursday, March 5, 2015
A VICTIM OF EXTREME MISANDRY
I am facing a disturbing predicament
in my own family – and this is,’ hatred for men’. Not just any hatred for any
men, but men that are an umbilical habitual connection and bloodline in our
family.
This started years ago, when my mother was physical abused by my father,
which is one of the issues I dealt with in my previous writings. This hatred
has since spilt over to all men in our maternal-and-paternal families,
respectively. Even the little boys feel it.
The premise of this hatred has since been ignored, without affirmation,
introspection, retrospection, counseling-sessions, emotional compensation and ownership
from the initial abuser . A more formative defence mechanism has since been
erected, which places all men in a discriminatory boxed environment – ‘All men
are abusers and all men must suffer.’
The seed was planted by a male figure in my life, and now, misandry has manifested its self – ‘the
sins of the father will visit upon the son’ , so the saying goes.
It came gradually, over the years. I did not pay too much attention to
it, because I saw my mother as source of nurture, emotional protection and a
room of wisdom. Only to discover later on in life that I am blamed for what my
father did years ago, turning her into a punching bag, which resulted in their unconditional divorce.
Unconditional because, growing up as a youngster there was no financial,
emotional, physical implications and reproach
given towards my parents’ divorce conditions. Hence, this clouded blame shifting that has shrouded my
family’s existence – now, spilling over to younger women and men that had
nothing to do with it in the first place.
I always wondered why my mother blamed me for every little thing that
went wrong in our home, why she chastised me for things I did not do, and why
she believed people that accused me of things I did not have any faintest idea
about. I first saw it as personality enhancement, don’t talk to your mother
about anything, however, continuous replications
made me change my outlook. And now, I see it as it is – plain, emotional abuse.
Coupled to that, I am constantly reminded that I am ‘useless, baggage and a good for
nothing soon to be a street sweeper’ which is, verbal abuse.
On top of that, I am also told that I’m not allowed to talk to anyone,
tell anyone of the things that are untowardly uttered towards me, as man. Why? Because,
I am a man and must take it as a man, just keep quiet. Why? Because, it’s what
men do. Take it and analyse yourself man!
It all comes to the point where one cannot ignore the hash, degrading
words that verbally rain towards you, and ones verbal reaction is taken as ‘women
abuse’ – cycling reaction of abuse. Who is the real abuser here!
It’s allowed for a man to be called “Shit!” by his sister, and the man must just take it,
like that, as a man. Why? Because, if a man retaliates, that is not manly of him.
I don’t blame my mother for what she’s doing, for the reason that, she did not deal with her
pain. A pain that came as a by-product of physical abuse, in the hands of man
she loved.
As people we reflect upon our own lives and how we are brought up.
It takes great courage, and emotional strength not to replicate the
sins of our fathers. Even in the face of women that are reverse-abusers*
Yes, say 'No to Women and Children Abuse.' Reversely, say 'No to Men Abuse.'
I love women*
THIS IS NOT A REVOLUTION!
Thursday, February 12, 2015
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE BLACK?
The narrative of what it means to be black is a consciousness that was
embedded by the Father of Consciousness, Steve Bantu Biko: In the book, I Write What I Like “THE
DEFINITION OF BLACK CONCIOUSNESS” , in 1971, Biko defines blacks as ‘those
who are by law or tradition politically, economically and socially discriminated
against as a group in the South African society and identifying themselves as a
unit in the struggle towards the realisation of their aspirations.’
South Africa’s social and political standing has since been transformed
into a Democratic State. However, twenty years into our young Democracy, black
people are starting to rise up against the notion of being white and treated as
whites.
Prominent black people are
starting to revolt against the notion of being white, of being taught in a Whiteman’s
language, living in a Whiteman’s world.
Traditionally black people were not given a choice to assimilate their cultures
with the Eurocentric and Westernise styles of living. Black people were
forcefully attributed to the Whiteman’s
world as subservience to the Whiteman’s style of living, and only as second-class-citizens – which was and still is
a human rights violation.
This infringement on black people,
as dark beacons of prejudice, inequality and lesser-class-beings has been
recorded through history, wide-reaching, as a gross-negligence, inhuman and racist
injustice by white people upon the black population. Taking away their inborn
identity, as part of the human race.
Inside today’s South Africa, a Social Economic Transformation is needed
to restore the pride and identity, that
was taken away by the white colonisers, to erase the far-reaching abuse that
has clouded the black mentality for centuries.
Steve Bantu Biko states that firstly: ‘Being black is not a
matter of pigmentation – being black is a reflection of a mental attitude.’
Secondly: ‘ Merely by describing yourself as black you have started on a road
towards emancipation, you have committed yourself to fight against all forces
that seek to use your blackness as a stamp that marks you out as a subservient
being.’
In seeking the true black identity, we as South African black people
have to be vigilant of mitigating old Whiteman’s racist tendencies with our own
superfluous racist approach.
We cannot deny that our pigmentation has been a source of ridicule, to
help guide the way of life for white people. Justly, we also cannot deny that
black people are proud, multilingual, multi-coloured, non-racial , non-violent,
non-segregating nation. Even through the extremities of neo-Nazi racist white lefties. The black nation remains
strong and connect as one.
In our connectedness many polarizing adversaries on what it means to be black: i.e. the Foreign
Element in our neighbourhoods, Economic Emancipation, Land Repatriation, the true
South African identity, greedy Politians
and Political parties, and our own ignorant corrupt government - stand to degradingly pull away our democratic
right, black identity and pride, that our elders stood for and fought for, for decades.
A neo-black revolution on black mentality and black pride has commenced*
The debate goes on!
WORD TO THE BLACK PRIDE REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
A MISHMASH, MEETING OF SITUATIONS
Into my subconscious, my thoughts, the relevance of what has been, what is and what will be. A frisson awakens
my soul, death before life, blubbers of hunger, unspoken truths, unexplored
desires, expectations , dark truths, white lies.
It took shape in that murky mysterious place – a rushed, fumbled grumble. It became what it became. An
unintentional emotional phenomenon, shaping in slapping stomping roughness sweat. A force, unto a much needed surrender.
An emulation of a thing that is progression, that can never be termination. A
rushed, fumbled grumble – a thought that could be what you make it to be.
An instinctive realism, a mishmash meeting of
situations – an anticlimax in that film
of a huge disruption. Bang! Bang! A peak. An explosion! A climatic climax coiling
over-and-beyond, thundering like the mysterious drums that echo at dawn. An
echo of progression. A spiritual sequence. You have to care!
“Somebody has
to care.” You have to care, or you are not
going to go anywhere. It’s a preface to everything you put your mind and soul
to. You have to care! Whether you are drunk or sober, standing or falling, sleeping
or awake. You have to care! Be clear-headed like your subconscious, for those
that try to escape their sobriety , are always trying to escape their reality, their
subconscious is biting deep into their soul. You have to care for those lips
you put your kiss on. Care for those thighs you warm with your hands. Care in the
dark and care in the light.
The revolution of the soul is becoming but, can only
be realised by the flourishing body. It is the root of a progressive persona. A
blubber of hunger, unspoken truths, unexplored desires, expectations , dark
truths, white lies. It cannot be a rush, it cannot be a fumble, it cannot be a
grumble.
It is a mishmash, meeting of situations. It is life
that knows that death is to be expected, ‘for where there is life there is
death’. Every smooth road has its humps and bumps - as life has affections, amusements, extreme
dislikes and mourning.
Into my consciousness,
my reality, my relevance of what has
been, what is and what will be.
The future is coming*
WORD TO THE MISHMASH REVOLUTION
Linda Sakazi Thwala
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