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

 

 

 

 

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What’s YOUR story (Mine is about GRATITUDE)

Every heart has a story to tell. My story is about Gratitude.

 

….You see, I used to be a selfish girl.  I wrote stories but I did not share them. In 2009, Lady Fate – in all her wisdom – decided to change that.  I suffered a major concussion that resulted in me losing my senses of smell and taste.   During the reflective days after that curveball, something in my soul stirred.  My selfish girl days were numbered.

 

I tuned in to the soulcall to share and was rewarded generously: I developed superpowers. Yes, superpowers!  I realised that:

My loss of smell forced me to use my ears more.

So, I started to listen.  Really listen.

My loss of taste forced me to use my eyes more.

So, I started to see. Really see. 

It occurred to me that on the road to recovery, I had developed a special set of skills using instinct, intuition, vibrations, feelings, nuances. My 2 dull senses heightened the 3 fully functional ones.  Those superpowers were my biggest gift as a writer.  They made for some powerful storytelling.

 

So began my journey to publishing my writing.  My stories translated into emotions.  The emotions connected hearts and magic began to happen.

I followed the magic.

I let my heart guide me.

I had no idea where the road would lead me.

I simply put one foot in front of the other and kept writing.

 

Before I knew it, I had penned my soon to be published debut novel. I screamed “thank you!” and then sat down to write some more.

 

And, you know what?  It’s true what they say!  All the universe does conspire to help the one who dares to follows their heart. I believe this 100% and so should YOU!

 

Aluta continua, as they say.  I wish you the courage to tell the story that only YOU can tell too.

 

!NEWSFLASH:  In the next few weeks I will FINALLY be able to share with you the dates for my book release and I am beyonddddddddddddddddd excited.   Thank you for listening with open hearts, for connecting, for engaging. Thank you for helping make my dreams come true.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

My Favourite Storyteller

She was our cleaner by day and our storyteller when the floors were shone.

She only had one English story in her arsenal and it was a killer. She had perfected the art of telling it, narrowing her air passages just enough to make the little birds sound angelic and gruffing up in a way that made you feel like the big bear and the snakes had morphed and were right in the backyard.

Her storytime always left us with mixed feelings. We were terrified that if we did not “be good” that we too would be captured by the snakes.  Her story had the desired effect. I was enchanted.

One day, I came home from school crying. Some rude girls had cut off a piece of my ponytail and said “Try and tell your mother…you will see.”

I did not want to “see”, so, I didn’t tell my mother. I told my favorite storyteller instead.

As I walked out of the school the next day, I saw her talking to the naughty girls. I was horrified. When I asked her what she had said, her reply was simple: “I told them a small story. I did my job. I think they understand”.

In that moment, my skinny little self realised the power and magic of how a simple story, can be told over and over again and have the desired effect over and over again. I was enchanted.

I tried to tap into that same magic while I boarded my tram to a storytelling event in Amsterdam recently. I had a great old story to tell. I hoped that the spirits would reward my bravery.

On my way home, I looked out of the tram window and threw a “thank you” prayer to my storytelling mentor in the sky.  I had mixed feelings about how I did.  I still have no way of knowing for sure whether my story had the desired effect, but it sure felt good to take that tiny step in the direction of my dreams.

My husband sent me a text message asking about the event. I simply replied “I told them a small story. I did my job. I think they understand.” 

A WORD OF GRATITUDE:

Dear Reader,

At the risk of sounding like a crazy esoteric caravan-woman, my heart is urging me to  wish you bravery as you look inside at the many things that have come into your life. Those shit things, those hard things, those moments of disappointment, loss and fear.  Bless them!  Bless also the happy things, those special moments with God & with your lover, the windfalls, lucky breaks, laughs and bursts of creative genius.  Those little things make YOUR story unique. They are your biggest gift and I wish you courage as you stare your imperfect life in the face & see how damn perfect YOUR unique story is.

Aluta continua, as they say. The road is still long (for me).

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and http://www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

The Calling

I have answered a call and I am going on a journey.

A journey to rest, explore, connect to the magic that has called my names. All my names.

I am going to seek vibrations of ancient wisdom, to engage the feminine divine.

I am going on a journey to remember my past, to anticipate my future.

I seek nothing more than to remember my names. All my names.

I desire only to reignite the light at the centre of my being.

I send love and light ahead of my heart and say “Go on, brave one. Take another step forward in the direction of your dreams”

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

YOU are Enough

…The time surely comes

When you put yourself first

When you regain your God essence

When you count your blessings

When you honour your sadness

When you give yourself permission to try

When you name your pain

When you stop calling your passion a “hobby”

When you keep your word

When you kick someone out of your emotional bed

When you alienate nasty creatures

When you write thank you notes

When you take more risks

When you stop trusting losers

When you approach people you need

When you say no to darkness

When you yield appropriately

When you say beautiful words of gratitude instinctively

When you sleep for days

When you trust your internal red flags

When you disappoint another heart

When you run your race and let others run theirs

When you clear everything on your vision board and start again

When you no longer mind being called emotional

When you equate self respect with breathing

When you allow yourself to dream again

When you listen to a child

When you let yourself be touched

When you honour your calling

When you travel to places that call you

When you risk humiliation

When you press “reset” on your life

When you accept the shape of the parts you disguise

When you simply say “not today”

When you acknowledge those that guide you

When you start imitating yourself

When you draw a line in the sand

When you empower other people

When you forgive yourself

When you delight in the success of others

When you laugh loud

When you kiss your broken heart

When you are your own role model

When you emulate the speckles of light you see

When you tone down the noise

When you soothe your heart with music

When you dine alone

When you share your struggles

When you own your fears

When you unlearn your defences

…and on that day, may you know that YOU are enough YOU have always been enough YOU will always be enough End of story!

Aluta Continua, I say!  The road is long (for me)

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Wings

She wanted more

She could not put a finger on it but she wanted more

So, off she went

In the direction of her dreams

Abandoning the expectations

Deserting the mould

Riddled with guilt

She pressed on

And when it got cold, she had to make a choice

To return to the lukewarm pond or to proceed in search of her fire

A storm broke and in the chaos it called her name

She followed the sound

Right back home

To where her ancestors waited

To give their blessings

And send her back on her way

With wings!

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The 12 Year Old who melted my heart (and then broke it)

He was 12 years old. He had lost both his parents tragically.  His grandmother was looking after him but he was really the one looking after her. She was very old and very blind.

This kid was exhausted.  Mentally and psychologically drained. 

Each morning at 6am, he dressed himself for school and then walked one hour to the bus stop. The bus took another hour. School was very important to him.  His parents would have been so proud.  He missed his mom every day.  She wanted him to be a doctor.

I felt his warmth instantly.  He was so full of dreams. 

He did his sales pitch within 12 seconds in my presence. He offered to wash my car.  I suggested once a week and he suggested the price. I tripled it and we had a deal.

My heart melted.

The deal lasted one and he never missed a day.  We talked about his doctor dreams and laughed lots.  My car was never really clean, but I was happy.

Around the 1 year anniversary of the Sunday sessions, he did not turn up at our agreed time.  I knew something was wrong.  The next week I waited again but my car was desperate for a wash.  I took it to a professional car wash in the area.  I recognised one of the guys who worked there. I had seen him talking to my favourite 12 year old before.

The other washer told me exactly where to find the 12 year old and I rushed straight to the local soccer field.   I had to find out why he no longer wanted to clean my car. 

It was worse than I had imagined!  Much worse.

His grandmother had died.  There had been a fire in their home and everything had burnt to the ground. He had nothing left and was living on the streets.  He did not turn up because he was so distraught!  I felt sick.

My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces.    

When I finally got home that evening, I realised that something was missing from my car.  My house keys!  Damn!  I went back to the car wash.  I met the same washer who had done such a good job earlier.  He said “So?  Did you talk to him?” and just as I was about to say “Isn’t it sad? What on earth can WE do for him?” he said “His mother and father have to be strict, you know.  He needs to focus more on his schoolwork and spend less time doing bad things. Next time he will go to jail!”

It turns out my little friend had played me.  His parents were still alive.  His grandmother too.  She was not blind either!  And, their family home was in perfect shape, just 3 minutes from the local school. 

I felt numb.  Just numb.

I did not confront him.  I did not need to.

To me, the story was tragic enough.  I did not need reasons.  I did not need explanations.

To understand his motives would be to open my heart up again.  Fortunately, that was not an option. 

I reckon my 12 year old is in his twenties now.  I wonder if he still dreams of healing and saving lives.

The end

© Lee-Ann Mayimele & A Heart Full of Stories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.