The Call. Of becoming. Part 2.

The 28th of May was the hardest day of my life. It was a near death experience. I died.

I was on fire. My worst fears attacked me. Snakes were in my room, under my bed, and in the shadows. I was inside the sun and I was burning. My heart broke into two pieces.

The curtain at The Temple tore at the centre. The cathedral collapsed. God was upset with me. My Judgement Day had arrived. Jesus was dead.

I can never be able to explain this to anyone who doesnt understand African Spirituality.

I have been in institutions 4 times in my life from when I was 21. Some people talk about depression, but they dont actually know what it is, I have lived it.

I have had my life taken away from me so many times. I have lost time, and I have lost memory. And I have lost people.

I take lots of pictures. I store them now. I keep them in the cloud. Because each time that I have to resurface. I have to recollect, I have to remember them. I have to remember time, people and places and faces, and I have to remember love.

My name is f*cking awful. An instruction to khumbula everything and everyone. To remember it all. For the f*cking why?

I need a new name.

I have been naked. I have wandered the streets, I have been lost for days on end. At times I have been found.

The dreams started when I was young, perhaps 5 years old. And they would come to life. Things would happen to people. And I would remember the dreams. Deja Vu shit.

The quiet violence of dreams.

Since 2005 I started keeping a visual record, so I can remember where to pick up my life again. I have had to have my brain electrocuted, that one time. Electro Convulsive Therapy they call it. It helped for a bit.

I have lost my memory. I lost time, I lost places. I lost relationships. But. I have found my purpose. I am now trying to live it out. I dont know how much time I have.

I have reconnected with God. I have found a great love. I have found the love of my life. And everything is a whole lot clearer.

My vibrations rise in the winter months. Starting at the end of the month of March. The June month, which is the first month of the year in the Bantu calendar, is the most spiritually difficult. And not because I dont like the cold.

It has had a lot of intensity this year. Because for whatever reason I found myself upside down from my natural habitat, and my body clock got confused, and it all culminated with that day on the 28th and the 29th May.

The same thing happened in the Mediterranean winter of 2008 when I was in Greece. That time I had no preparation and the attack caught me spiritually naked and with no coaching or support.

I am at a place now which has all the world’s spirits from the inception of time. And its got records. And I had not yet made peace with the forces fighting inside of me. And I hadn’t done the right amount of preparations.

Mercury went into Retrograde, the Moon did two f*cking super full moon maneuvers right at the end of Ramadan. It wasnt Ramadan Kareem for me at Eid Mubarak. I was swimming at the Red Sea. And the Sun decided to get into the party and it did a whole lot of shit and raised the heat. My body got confused and attacked my head.

When you have a calling, ubizo, you get a sign / many signs that tell you that you must accept your work. Its called a "calling" for a reason. You are asked to come make peace.

This is after your life has become broken, you have suffered so much and noone has been able to help you. Western Medicine gives you a label and stereotypes you into a Sigmund Freud definition, and you keep to a monthly pharmaceutical prescription.

So, at some point you have to have a meeting between your soul and God. And you have to be told your name.

My people were healers in the African sense. So all of my periods of depression were in fact a challenge to my conscience, them peeps saying that I am supposed to do something, why am I not accepting what I am supposed to do?

Every time my soul went under, to the deepest of its lows, and the feeling I get is of being judged and rebuked, for not doing what I am supposed to do. And I feel like the greatest of sinners.

Every wrong deed and mischievous thought, from the past and present and the future flashes before my eyes and is now unravelled and revealed, instantly and at the same time, in front of God.

And I receive this terrible feeling. A feeling of shame and guilt, and heartbreak, and a physical experience of my heart breaking.

On that day, on or abouts the 28th-29th May, I felt like my heart was physically being torn into two pieces, at the middle. And my soul was crying. And I cried. Every other day after that I would wake up and cry, tears.

I felt like I had come into the presence of God. And all of my life was getting decided on, even where I thought I had done good, the ultimate test was not doing what the intended purpose of my life was / had been.

And I have been told for so long, by a few healers that my condition is not medical, but spiritual.

So last year I started the process of acceptance. It is a journey that I am on now, and it is an entire education.

I used to think that I can and could heal myself. I thought I could figure it all out on my own. But I now believe in help and coaching. And that God places people that have their designed purpose to help us journey into the truth, and to help us become who we are. And to help us arrive at the True North.

So now I do feel that I am a bit more awake. But I am young in this, and I am a student.

But I insist. God is love 💛💙