No, you do not mess with the infinite intelligence of the subconscious mind. Take it from me, I know and I'v tried. She is the great teacher. You don't get smart with her. Miss a lesson?  hoping it's overlooked? Think again.   She teaches, she refines and purifies, and yes she teaches again .. Just in case.   As the uncut nugget of gold pass through the fiery  kiln, so does your soul pass through the fires of purification. Through the raging fires that melt and refine you to your brightest and purest form...that's what she does and that's her art. Her scorching hand touched me many years ago. She dragged me through the fires of hell and carelessly left me for dead...or so I thought, untill she pulled me through, rich and in her form.

 But let me confess, I thought she missed a cue, I thought I got away somewhat. Had my way....'won' the day. For years did I gloat how I hoodwinked her mighty eye....her infinite intelligence that just happened to  overlook a minor detail in my trainig.  Here I am back in the furnace, heated to an ember,  beaten, shaped and polished again. Oh fool !  Learn, accept, bow down to her will.  At least now know that what you missed out or skipped in your learning will come, if not now some other day.

 The waves gently role in, break into a white collar of lace that kisses the sand only to get pushed away. But the waves keep on doing what they are meant to do. They keep rolling in.....

Much like the lyrics .... 'Like the sea, should keep kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times he pushes her away....'

 Avurudu!!! I’m loving this time of year…love the feeling of closure, a sweeping sense of finale in the air… people around me packing up, happily looking forward to a long break, I feel the joy and wonder of those expectations… hope the new year actually brings in the renewal so eagerly awaited…As for me, I love the feeling peace and quiet and oh those beautiful traditions… traditions I’ve inherited mostly through marriage…It’s a time to try my hand at various traditional sweets, cleaning the house and buying a new broom rug and a pot…. How I love the feel and fragrance of new clay…come new year and it shall be heralded with as much enthusiasm as I can gather, light the hearth and set a table with Kiribath and sweetmeats…most of the homely traditions have fallen by the wayside but it’s nothing but a good feeling to visit relations and share trays of food…to teach my son all that’s good and beautiful of the timeless traditions of Avurudu… but as he rightly said… what is Avurudu without Kavum? So it is time to get cracking on trying my hand at perfecting a Konde Kavum …till then I leave you with my experience with Unduvel… It took a better part of my day, and left me with smoke congested lungs, but still, its Avurudu and for me,  what is Avurudu without Unduvel….Oba Samata Suba Aluth Avuruddak Wewa…

 Everybody has their place of predilection and this quiet haven by the water is mine. Sometimes I lie awake at night troubled by some pettiness that would seem important at the moment, but back of my mind I'm reasured that come first light of day  I would make myself a cup of tea and sit in my quiet spot.  Many hours have I  spent here, reading, watching the birds and the fish, the occasional snake. Many hours I would spend here just simply  being. 

Then in those endless  hours  the elements in me and this space would become but one.  If you ever wonder what's missing in the me you would meet ...filling my cart with groceries at the local market, mingling at some fancy cocktail party with a glass of wine in hand or  pacing the corridors of a hospital anxious for a loved one.... maybe that missing element might be safe by the little water garden... and maybe that strange waft of water weed in the air, glimpse of a sparkle or a sudden overcast might be the spirit of the garden in me...

Then as Don Juan, my favourite person from my favourite book tells his pupil Carlos  ' this is the site of your last stand, you will die here no matter where you are. Every warrior has a place to die. A place of his predilection which is soaked with unforgettable memories,  where powerful events left their mark, a place where he has witnessed marvels, where secrets have been revealed to him, a place where he has stored his personal power'.  ( pg 168 Journey to Ixtlan )