Dear Barbara Streisand: “People who need people are indeed the luckiest people in the world”

What could go wrong on a morning when all the traffic lights are out?

Well, I packed some hot dog rolls into a Woolies shopping bag together with some cheese grillers and set off to gym. Stay with me – the hot dogs and gym visual is true.

The plan was to give the food away before it expired without my husband finding out. Long story…

I never quite made it to the gym (no surprises there) but I decided to sit down for some scrambled eggs instead. Just before I picked a spot, I saw someone I could give the food away to. The man sells Homeless Talk, a newspaper that I have seen a million times but never bought.

As I sat down at the cafe for my breakfast, I reached for my wallet to put the parking ticket in the spot where I always put my parking ticket and that’s when I realised that my wallet was in the black hot dog bag! The plan had been to stick the empty shopping bag into my gym bag, that’s how my purse ended up inside. Note to self: forget gym.

When I related the story to my children later that afternoon, sure I added some drama but essentially:

I had no cash to get out of the parking lot and had to make some decisions quickly.

So I asked the parking lady for a free pass. Sure, she said.

The cafe owner said that I come could totally have stayed for a free breakfast.

I opened my banking app to see if there had been any transactions. Cancel Cards/Not? Pause, I decided.

As I drove up the road towards the Homeless Talk seller, I saw him holding out the Mykonos blue purse with a look that said, “………..!”

The kids screamed “Nice hot dog lady!” but the man’s face really screamed “dumb blonde!” I was guilty as charged on both counts.

But here’s what this story is really about: people people, people.

We are all just people who need people. And that’s how we all get by. By needing people and by allowing people to need us. Barbara Streisand was right.

Lee

P.S. I couldn’t find much info online re Homeless Talk but the lovely guy selling his is at the garage near St Davids in Inanda close to Summer place:-) Didn’t catch his name. Don’t tell him you know me.

Warning: Kindness is Dope

I met someone recently who thanked me for something I did for her 20 years ago.

I kid you not.

To be quite honest, I did not recall the detail or that act of apparent kindness at all. She tells me that it came at a time when she desperately needed a strong mother figure and that young-me stepped up.

I must say, our exchanges back then never did feel like “rescue” or “help” to me. In fact, I reckon I was the one who felt good. I was the one who felt useful. I was probably the one who felt high from the endorphins that make us drunk with purpose. That’s really all I remember about our interactions ~ how lovely I felt around her.

How cool?

Her testimony has since inspired me to write some random “Thank You” notes of my own. Because the stars know that there are plenty of people who have touched me over the years. And just like that, I’m part of an energy that keeps the magical vibration of GRATITUDE in motion.

Perhaps you feel inspired to hop on the train and thank someone today too? If so, I can tell you without a doubt that the wise ones were right: It is indeed GIVING that we RECEIVE.

Try it. Thank me (29 years later).

Lee Mayimele

Chief Storyteller

Shine your WEIRDO LIGHT bright (A short Soul-Sunday reflection on being YOU)

My HEART had a massage this week.

 

Someone described me by saying “She gets PEOPLE fatigue” (describing my way of engaging fully socially and then clandestinely retreating back to my own space and pace).

 

Game changer. Bloody damn GAME CHANGER!

 

It’s one thing to know something about ourselves. It’s another to know that someone else GETS it!

 

I mean, isn’t that what we all want? A gentle voice mirroring back to us those beautiful words “it’s okay”.

 

Okay to be weird

Okay to different

Okay to go at a pace that isn’t exactly textbook, but a pace that feels right just for us?

 

I must tell you, it’s just lovely.

Just so lovely when one heart bows to another in a simple Namaste-style salute that says “You’re weird. But, gosh, so are all of us!”

 

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

A Loaf of Bread (Yes, another story about Gratitude & Magic)

It was the kind of morning when my coffee was medicinal rather than recreational.

 

My son had been up most of the night with an ear ache. So, he alternated between my chest, the kitchen floor and my husband’s forehead. Basically sitting (because he couldn’t lie flat) wherever he felt most comfortable and making damn sure that the whole neighbourhood knew that we had a sick patient in our home.

 

The following morning he was 100% fine and had me wondering whether the whole night was a dream. Just then, his nanny arrived and I could have kissed her, I was so happy!  But, the first thing she said was “there’s no bread?” with a look of shock- horror that bolted me out of the door, medicinal coffee in hand.

 

I zombie-d down to the shops where I stood in the longest queue, with the biggest headache for eternity.

Apples? Check.

Fabric softener? Check.

Lemons? Check.

 

I noticed that the guy standing in front of me in the queue was buying 100 loaves of bread. “Damn!” I thought, “bread! I forgot the #%*ing bread!”

 

Just then, my phone beeped and I dipped my head down. When I looked up again, the guy in front of me had disappeared.

 

And, guess what HE left behind? Yes, you guessed it.

Bread.

The very kind I intended to buy.  Paid for.

 

There are no words. No explanations. Certainly no coincidences.

Just gratitude….

 

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

Looking for GOD? (A short “Soul Sunday” reflection)

 

Don’t look for me in holy books or so-called holy people.

That’s not where you’ll find ME.

 

Don’t hurriedly hunt me in secret places, special buildings, strings of beads, ancient scripts, in potions or in star alignments.

 

Get quiet!

 

Then,

Look at the fire coloured sun, rising and setting without you having to do a thing;
See the butterfly, the migrating birds pulsing to a vibration of pure precision;

Listen to the waves crashing, a choir singing, the cry of a newborn baby;

Smell the fresh earth after a thunderstorm;

Feel the high of a meditation, the warmth of a touch, the tears that run when the soft smell of a deceased loved one wafts through your home;

Tune in, and you’re getting close.

 

Don’t chase after me in holy water, special foods or men who claim to “know”.

 

NO,

I’m more likely to be in the eyes of your lover, a generous stranger, a homeless man;

I’m more likely to be the laughter of children, the gentle push of a teacher, your gran’s dusty kitchen floor;

I’m more likely to be in the tingle of strawberries, the soft rain playing jazzy tunes on your rooftop;

 

YES,

That’s more my style.

 

For I am GOD, my child,

The creator, narrator, the connector of the dots.

The beginning;

The end;

Foremost an artist! Second to none.

 

All light comes from me, and all light flows through you.

 

AND,

How will you know when you’ve found ME?

Ah, that’s the easy part: You’ll just know!

I designed you that way.

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

APOLOGY:

It seems there were some gremlins in yesterday’s post, trying to scramble text and give me more grey air. Luckily, we’ve now sorted them out.

 

 

 

Feathers appear when ANGELS are near (A story about a lady cleaning my room)

I was sitting and writing in my hotel room, watching the bluest sea go up and down like digital musical notes while a lady who looked just like my late mother went about her business of cleaning my room.

 

I kept changing my position slightly in order to stare at her, wondering each time if she noticed. I was feeling naughty, bad, sad and weird all at the same time. It’s hard to explain.

 

I finally let up the espionage to take a walk along the beach.  She called back at me “Lady, you dropped something”.  It was a feather which I quickly picked up in a big red blush!

 

It was then that I felt this immense sense of Gratitude.

Gratitude for her presence,

Gratitude for the lesson,

Gratitude for way the dice landed placing me in a position to live the life I do,

Gratitude also for the luxury of being able to travel, write and tell YOU about the things that touch my heart.

 

I dreamed of days like this, I must tell you.

Days of random magic,

heart swells,

ocean air,

pink sunsets,

…and days when the old saying “feathers appear when angels are near” rings beautifully true.

 

I wish YOU days of “magic” too.

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Whilst we don’t know the origin of the pics used, all respect and due credit are hereby given where appropriate. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and A Heart Full of Stories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All media rights and copyright for the words reserved.

 

Have you ever experienced PEACE? (A story about another’s faith)

The first time I heard the phrase “the peace that passes all understanding” I was sitting at the one end of a fabulous lunch table, casually popping a chunk of ice into my glass of Chardonnay. I had just lost my mom and someone asked me how I was coping.

 

Taking a big gulp of wine, I tried to explain to her that although I was utterly distraught about the void she had left with her sudden departure, I had this incredible sense of CALM that had come over me.  “At first I put it down to shock. You know? A kind of inertia that my BODY had gifted to me in order to cope with the loss. Isn’t the BODY amazing like that?” I said with a genuine appreciation for the hormones that I believed had carried me to that place of peace.

 

“That’s the holy spirit” she replied matter of factly as she slowly dipped her piece of bread into a mixture of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. “I guarantee you, that is ONLY the holy spirit who can do that!” 

 

Now, as the beneficiary of a lovely Catholic convent education (With a tonn of experience of telling fibs inside the Confessional. Judge not!), one would think that I would have been quick with something rather Bible-ly to say to her in return. Alas not.

 

The only thing I could manage was “I am so grateful!”

 

And truthfully, I still am.  Grateful for the wine, grateful for the peace, grateful for being in the presence of someone with such unwavering conviction.  God knows, that’s the kind of faith that moves mountains.

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Whilst we don’t know the origin of the pics used, all respect and due credit are hereby given where appropriate. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and A Heart Full of Stories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All media rights and copyright for the words reserved.

I remember the day I was born (A “crazy” story about a memory)

Guess what?  I have the very vaguest recollection of something said to me on the day I was born.  I kid you not.

 

Yes, I know that sounds crazy but just today, while I sat up at 5am waiting for the sun to rise, I sort of remembered it from 40 years ago. Honestly, I did.

Now, there were quite a few people present at my birth (it was a home delivery with a house full of people) so it could have been anyone. I recall an actual whisper of something into my ear.  I also know for sure that it was sweet and that it told me of the blessings that would lie ahead for me.  Perhaps it was a prayer? Perhaps it was simply a “welcome”?  I mean, it could even have been angels, ancestors or my own soul’s voice saying “oh hi” because it had been here before?

 

Now, I get that you’re thinking that I’ve truly lost the plot this time  (and that’s always a possibility) but I implore you to trust me on this one. So, please do listen to my story a little while longer…

 

Of course it could have been a dream. Of course it could just be something I saw in a movie.  But, have you considered that it could totally be true?!  That I remember?

 

Isn’t that magical?

 

Isn’t that just why we’re on this planet?

To crack open the magic?

To listen to “wild” stories?

To experience miracles?

To explore the various aspects of “possibility”, both of things we understand and accept and then more importantly of the things which are not widely understood and accepted but are certainly no less of a “truth”?

 

I thought you’d say YES!

 

Because here’s the thing. That’s what we ALL want:

To engage the MAGIC,

To understand our PURPOSE,

To explore all aspects of the mystical, spiritual DIVINE and to excite one another with our unique expressions of what we see/feel/taste/sense/remember as we go along.

 

YES, there it is! I see that little light flickering in your heart’s memory too. Go there…it’s your work!

 

© Aluta continua, as they say.  A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

 

 

 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Whilst we don’t know the origin of the pic above, all respect and due credit are hereby given where appropriate. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and A Heart Full of Stories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All media rights and copyright for the words reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

A Prayer Answered

If you have ever lost someone you love, you will know that it sucks the life out of you.

 

Standing at the shore, I let my heart break. The pieces fell hard and wave after wave picked up a piece and took it away. Completely centred, I stilled myself more, allowing the feelings to come and the waves to go.

 

Softly, the tears fell. Softly too, the waves came in perfect rhythm.    

 

My prayer that morning was a simple one :  I asked that the same one that made the waves, the same one that made my sad heart, would hold my mother in tenderness as she traveled back “home”. She had just passed away and the smell of her still followed me everywhere.

 

Looking back at the footprints and with the sound of the waves getting more and more faint, I realised that the prayer was not only about my mother. It was also about me. For me.  I needed her to journey well, so that I could journey well too.  My happiness was contingent on it.

 

Knowing for sure that my prayer was answered, I began to walk back to the boardwalk.  The connectedness I felt to the ocean, its rhythm and the creator of it all was not for me to try and understand in that moment. (Or perhaps ever!)

 

Instead, I bowed my head for a second in gratitude, delighted that there are undoubtedly magical moments and miracles on the most ordinary of days. Indeed when we’re silent and centered, plugging into the rhythm of the divine flow is not only necessary, it is completely instinctive. A rhythm most divine.

 

 

Ask me, I know.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2017

 

Aluta continua, as they say.  Allow me to wish you a million opportunities on the most ordinary of days to plug into the magic and surrender to the rhythm that sustains us all.

Have You Ever? (Version II)

Have you ever been lost?

Were you lost in the forest of someone else’s shadow or perhaps lost in the company of familiar people dancing to a beat you could no longer hear?

 

Have you ever traveled alone?

Did you have a partner with you who was not there in spirit? Did the vibrations of civilisations past call out your name and send you home changed but on fire?

 

Have you ever received a gift?

A blessing out of the blue for which no amount of gratitude would be appropriate?

 

Have you ever felt like you’ve been kicked in the gut?

How did the breaking of your heart sound? Did it grind, wring and burn corners of your chest that you had long forgotten?

 

Have you ever felt satisfied?

Was it as though everything was finally falling into place or was it perhaps just the knowing that you are God?

 

Have you ever been betrayed?

Did you stand in the doorway of broken trust and bleed as the shattered pieces of glass cut you as they fell?

 

Have you ever danced? Really danced?

Did the primal impulse to sway create waves of sexual energy that made you high?

 

Have you ever participated in a witch hunt? 

 

Were you on a warpath in pursuit of mob justice or were you the wide eyed attackee, bewildered by the “charges” and drawn into the fight kicking and screaming?

 

 

Have you ever sold out?

 

Did your team mates see it coming? How did your conscience deal with the conflict afterwards?

 

 

Have you ever eaten through your heart?

Was it your granny’s roast potatoes that transported the seratonin throughout your body or was it a hot curry shared with a hot body on a cold day that stained your arteries with bliss?

 

Have you ever been touched?

Whether by the 80 year old hand of a stranger, rough with callouses but warm with unspoken stories about abuse, slavery, loved ones that have never returned? Or, was it simply a simple line from a simple song that charged your soul’s batteries and flooded your bones with warmth?

 

 

Have you ever blessed someone with prayer?

Did your heart send vibrations across tall walls and rough seas; intercessions seasoned with grand visualisations of success, prosperity, abundance to people who you dreamed great dreams for?

 

Have you ever had a brush with God?

Did it happen when you were at the top of a beautiful mountain or did it happen when you came face to face with a hijacker?

 

Have you ever been an addict?

Did your drug of choice soothe you, own you, control you and lift you all at once? Did your alliance seem unbreakable?

 

Have you ever received a compliment?

A genuine string of words about who you are, not what you can give? Did it remind you of the value you create, the impact you have, the light that only you bring?

 

Have you ever been seduced?

Did it help you to escape your bad reality only later to return you changed and unsure of the way forward?

 

Have you ever wanted a glimpse of your future?

Did you follow that need to seek guidance from soothsayers, Tarot cards, and horoscopes perhaps? Anything that promised the slightest secret fast forward to a life more grand?

 

I bet you have! And, guess what? So have many spirits before you, many souls yet to come. These shared experiences give us the assurance that we are part of the same journey and that the “answers” we seek already exist. 

 

These experiences should also remind you that YOUR unique set of experiences, YOUR unique choices, YOUR bespoke combo of emotions is what makes YOUR story a story that deserves its own page in the great book of life.

 

May you learn to appreciate that. There is no story without YOU.

 

Believe it!

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016

Aluta continua, as they say. Our journey together continues….