and then we were six

This story started in 1971.

It started in Nelson Mandela Bay with the birth of an amazingly beautiful little girl to a young couple who loved each other the best they could.

She was born in a hospital & eventually taken home to a Richmond Hill apartment.

She was the first born to this almost new family.

Even while she was being formed by invisible hands in the womb of her mother, she was intimately aware that she would have to be resilient as she takes her first breath & lives her first day.

Her creator wove her for such a time as this and such a purpose as this one.

He gave her everything she would need.

The perfect synergy of soul & matter.

The ideal combination of spirit & life & hope & love & being.

And she was.

And she lived.

She experienced.

And challenged.

And survived.

An unseen hand always upon her.

Protecting.

Guiding.

Enabling.

At times the flame of her being almost smothered by fumbling brokenness passed from generation to generation over centuries.

She came with reason.

Purpose.

The flame never so low that there is no light at all.

Healer.

She is.

Carying in her the medicine which becomes poison if you reject it.

We met when she was twenty-one.

Her medicine healing my own soul.

Allowing the flame of my own being to come to life & burn high.

To be.

And become.

Who we both were created to be.

We became one.

And then we were three.

The birth of our son.

Teaching us to love without condition. Urging us to see the brokenness. To face it. Slay it. Be healed from it in relationship.

Embracing our being.

Loving our self.

Relentlessly.

As we love each other.

And are loved by the one who lovingly brought us into being.

Mimicking, as we are, as he is.

And then we were four.

Our Pippa coming into our tribe to show us that love and strength are not mutually exclusive.

That we can energetically be who we are, without compromise, while loving and embracing.

That often to love is to reveal so that we can heal.

And be healed.

And then we were five.

Our Soffie allowing us to discover that ‘being’ is as diverse as the stars of heaven.

That our minds should be open.

Our hearts to embrace and love and share.

And as we share life with many, in intimacy, we become more than ever imagined.

And we loved.

And we healed.

And were healed.

We became.

As we embraced.

A life less lived.

In the little wooden house on the not so little hill.

Surrounded by horses and dogs and goats and chicken.

Learning as we experience, instead of through institution.

With stone ground flour and home-baked bread.

With hand-made pasta.

Fresh strong coffee.

Intimate conversation.

Exuberant laughter.

Desperate tears.

And then we were six.

On a morning long-awaited, forty-one years after that morning in 1971.

She was born in our home & gave her first cry in the arms of her brother – a beautiful little wooden house nestled between forest and ocean on top of a not so little hill.

She is the fourth born to this not so new family.

Even while she was being formed by invisible hands in the womb of her mother, she was intimately aware that she would be loved and would be free to be and become from that moment when she takes her first breath & lives her first day.

Her creator wove her for such a time as this and such a purpose as this one.

And they were grateful.

Together.

And they were filled with hope.

For in this world of brokeness there is beauty to be found.

3 thoughts on “and then we were six

  1. Pingback: relationship our mosque « Sevencitys' Blog

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