Everything is energy, and everything consists of energy waves. Our body, thoughts, trees, animals, plants, water, light, everything in nature, the radio, and other things that we call ‘dead’ radiate energy. Everything vibrates at a specific frequency. As an example, I mentioned in ‘The reward’ how elephants communicate at such a low frequency that we humans cannot hear or feel it. There is another elephant example. Writer Lawrence Anthony, also known as the ‘elephant whisperer’, had a special connection with the elephants in his game reserve Thula Thula near Richards Bay. He wrote a few interesting books about it. Returning from a trip, he died suddenly at the airport of Johannesburg (distance 600 km). The entire herd came to his lodge within a few days to pay their respects. They had received the energy that his life had come to an end.
Everything is energy means that everything vibrates with each other, is connected, and reacts to each other, where distance plays no role at all. If you meet someone you don’t like in the first second, we say that person isn’t on the same wavelength as you. You feel it, but you may not immediately realise that that is literally the case. We all know the phenomenon that you think of someone (energy wave) who you have not seen for a while, and that person is suddenly on the phone. That’s a coincidence, you think. Not surprising at all when you realise that energy waves are constantly at work making connections. Energy is infinite; it never runs out.
I was talking to a friend a while ago about a mutual friend I hadn’t seen in three years. A little later, I see her at the supermarket. That could have happened any day, so to speak, because she also lives in the little village of Wilderness. Our energy waves created synchronicity and, no, not a coincidence, as scientists would like us to believe. As they discover more and more about quantum physics, they are beginning to discover and acknowledge what philosophers and sages have been saying since ancient times.
Another example: you think (energy wave) during a game of golf how nice it is that you haven’t ended up in a bunker yet. So your energy goes to the nearest bunker, and yes, your next shot goes straight in; you meet the bunker, in other words. Golf isn’t called a mind game for no reason; your thoughts (energy waves) are constantly busy with how you should stand, that you should keep looking at the ball etc. etc., with the result that you are distracted from your stroke with your busy head (energy waves), and the result doesn’t come near to what you had in mind. Just hit the ball, says the caddy. Exactly.
Knowing this also makes the possibility of reading someone else’s thoughts (energy waves) or feelings (energy waves) less surprising. You tune in (always with the person’s permission), and the energy starts flowing mutually. We are all one consciousness, all one, each with our individual experiences.
This post is the result of an experience I had yesterday. I walked from the golf course clubhouse across the parking lot to my car to pay the caddy, and my eye fell on a parking spot for disabled people that I had never noticed before. I thought (energy wave), why is there such a parking space at a golf course and saw an absurd picture in my head of someone hitting a ball from a wheelchair. On my way back to the clubhouse, I saw a car parked on the spot; to my amazement, someone was lifting somebody from the car onto a wheelchair. My energy apparently connected with the person in the car heading to that specific parking spot. Fascinating but understandable.
(I couldn’t help looking on the internet to see if there is such a thing as playing golf from a wheelchair. It does exist, and a Dutch guy named Jurgen Boon proves it by being number one in the world in para golf. He drives his electric wheelchair to the ball, puts the chair upright and hits the ball. A statement from him is that a quiet mind helps. So true. (I’m sure I can’t beat him).
If we are aware of how energy plays an all-determining role in what happens and that energy connects everything, we will discover that our lives are full of synchronicities, which, however, have nothing to do with chance. Did I make myself clear, haha?
That’s what the trip I’m about to take feels like after my efforts to learn more about criminal psychology. First of all, I am going to visit Loraine in Johannesburg. She organised Emmanuel, who works for Uber and does private transport as well, to pick me up at the airport. That way I don’t have to look for a reliable taxi. Fortunately, the traffic is not too bad (that can be very different sometimes), so I am delivered in 45 minutes in Lonehill, a quiet neighbourhood where Loraine has lived for many years. It is about five o’clock, so a glass of wine is in order. We immediately start chatting on her covered patio that overlooks her beautiful, colourful garden with, of course, a swimming pool for the water lover that is Loraine. Our conversations are always deep and cover topics such as spirituality, who we are (all one pure consciousness with each different experiences), that we are not in control (everything happens as it should happen), our ego and that our life on earth is a projection of the mind and so an illusion (I might dedicate a blog to that someday). I have many questions, as usual, which Loraine, in her wisdom, always manages to answer. She uses her astrological knowledge daily to explain why things are the way they are. Apart from this, we eat in various restaurants in the area, from Indian to Italian to Greek. We’re going to Rivonia, the neighbourhood where I lived for six years and had guesthouse Bevan House with Louise. It’s still a lively area, but Bevan Road looks a bit run down, and the former Bevan House is a bit of a mess.
Not the first and not the last glass.
After three wonderful days, I fly to Skukuza in Kruger Park, from where I continue my journey by car with driver Andrew to my beloved Inyati Game Reserve in Sabi Sands. Chatty Andrew is surprised I don’t have children; he has seven. To my rather shocked reaction, he says that there was no television at the time, so…. He apparently sees the TV as a contraceptive. On the way, I see the first elephant and a buffalo as a foretaste.
The Sabi Sand Reserve is the birthplace of sustainable wildlife tourism in South Africa. It is the oldest of all private reserves in South Africa, formed in 1934, and it became a formal association in 1948. It is owned mainly by third and fourth-generation families who share a common vision with their ancestors. The reserve borders 50 km west of Kruger Park (no fences) and has 65,000 hectares. There are two rivers, the Sand River (on which Inyati is located), which flows from northwest to southeast, and the Sabie River on the southern border.
I arrive just in time for the high tea and the first game drive. Game ranger George and tracker Solly warmly welcome me. The drive starts with a group of wild dogs, which we have to call painted wolves nowadays, although they are not related to wolves, making the change an enigma.
Then a pride of lion called the Delmati pride, which means a lot of water. They walked to Sabi Sand from Kruger years ago. The pride, initially twenty, split up and now consists of seven, two of which are males.
Further on buffalo, zebra and a leopard on the walk, a good start.
Sundowners at a beautiful evening sky.
In the vehicle with me is an English couple, Sonja and Brian, 86 years old and married for 60 years, who travel to South Africa about three to four times a year. Fantastic if you can still do that at that age. We enjoy a delicious meal together. Early to bed because tomorrow morning, we will be awakened at five o’clock with a knock on the door to start the morning drive at six.
An anecdote is associated with this stork, a regular guest in the lodge’s garden.
A guest had once indicated that he would not participate in the morning game drive and therefore did not need to be woken up. The stork knew nothing about this and tapped loudly and constantly on the window of his room, after which the guest stormed out in irritation to confront the ‘alarm clock’. When he saw it was the stork, his anger subsided, and he went back to bed, grinning.
We are, as usual, spoiled with all kinds of animals, from a lion gnawing on a warthog to buffalo, leopard, nyala, an elephant sleeping against a tree and three very well-fed hyenas.
It is a coming and going of guests; South Africa, England, America and Australia are represented. The occupancy is good, the food excellent, and the staff very helpful. The only thing that would be an asset is a spa to bridge the time between brunch and the evening drive.
We are urged not to forward photos of rhino, as poachers can track the rhino via GPS. All rhinos have had their horns removed, but they grow back, a constant source of concern.
with game ranger George
The elephants have given me the most pleasure this time because of the many little ones who do not yet know what to do with their trunks. Comical and touching. Sometimes you see two babies with a female, which can result from the mother’s death, after which the sister, who also has a baby, takes care of the orphan.
A male buffalo, living on his own because he was evicted from the herd, is also called dagga boy, where dagga means mud, the favourite place of a buffalo.
Drinking water is not easy for a giraffe.
The next day, George tells a gruesome story about a lioness being gang-raped by six males. After the rape, the males ate the lioness. This behaviour is not as unusual as it may seem; Due to the large number of videos and photos that people nowadays take with their mobile phones and send to the world, the phenomenon has become more public. The authorities did not want to intervene by killing the lions, allowing them to continue their terrible practice. (Manager Keith says a few days later that lions are not the noble animals they are often portrayed, but simply the gangsters of the bush). It raises the question of whether we should intervene in nature anyway, and if so, how far should that go? Should we operate on an injured animal or let nature take its course? The current opinion is that this should only be done with endangered species. We must realise that we are invading the animal’s world by driving around in it. How does that affect their behaviour? Anyone?
These are dwarf mongoose.
You can sometimes drive around for a long time without seeing an animal; I don’t mind because the area is beautiful and varied. This is also the case during the evening drive until another game ranger alerts us about a leopard in a tree via his walkie-talkie. The leopard walked a long way with her baby and a kill in her mouth to a riverbed, where she climbed a tree with the kill. That is normal leopard behaviour to prevent the kill from being taken by hyenas, for example. In this case, however, the baby also climbed the tree, grabbed the kill, and tumbled down. Mom stayed on the lookout in the tree.
The trees turn black; time to go back to the lodge.
The significant advantage of a private game reserve to Kruger Park is that one is allowed to go off-road to follow an animal or come close to them.
Manager Keith has now taken over from George, and Solly remains our tracker.
Keith is always a great source of information. For example, he says that it is not the predators that determine how many impalas there are but that it is the other way around; the number of impalas determines the number of predators. It is said that the animals see the vehicle with the people in it as one big block, so they don’t attack, and, therefore, we shouldn’t stand up. However, he explains that when you get up, the animal sees it as if you intend to get off, which makes the animal restless and goes on the attack (or defence). We sometimes see a buffalo without a tail. It can be bitten off by a lion, but ticks can also cause it. They bite at the end of the tail, and the bacteria work their way up, after which the tail eventually falls off.
Every night there is a story about the interaction of animals on my bed, passed down from generation to generation of various tribes, such as the Ndebele, Bushmen, Khosi and Tswana. The last evening there is also a heart of rose petals.
The last drive. What do we want to see? I ask for some more elephants, a wish that is more than fulfilled. If a female elephant is in oestrus, the herd’s matriarch communicates it to another herd (which can be up to 8 km away and is called the bush telegraph), who then communicates the fact to others until a male elephant has been found that is in musth. This one sets out for the female, a journey that can cover up to 250 km. The communication waves are of such a low frequency that we cannot hear them.
If you slightly wet a branch of this shrub and then rub it in your hands, it works as a refreshing and disinfecting soap.
That’s the end of my stay. I am taken back to Skukuza, where it is 39 degrees, and when I land in Johannesburg a little later, it is 20 degrees cooler. I need to stay overnight, that’s no problem because the Southern Sun hotel is good. It is very busy in the restaurant with a large group of somewhat scruffy people (from a township?) who have a conference there. By no means people from the emerging black middle class in South Africa, who are always dressed to perfection and according to the latest fashion. I’ve just finished my food when a man from the group comes to my table and asks, with his full plate in hand, if the seat opposite me is free. Although it is busy, there are still tables available, but what do you do? I nod; he takes a seat, folds his hands and says a prayer. I don’t feel comfortable and ask for the bill. He’s not happy that I’m abandoning him, he says. I contemplate my behaviour later. Would I have reacted the same way if the man had been neat, had been a black middle-class man or a white businessman? I probably would have struck up a conversation and not immediately left. Well… we judge immediately and often don’t give another person a chance. Perhaps this man had an interesting story to tell about his life. Missed opportunity?
It seems that Inyati is travelling with me to George. While in the queue to board, my eye catches a man with a hold all over his shoulder with the Inyati logo. After I have taken my seat on the packed plane, a lady taps me and points to a rose petal in the aisle, asking if I dropped it. Well… I love signs like that. Another proof that everything is connected.
Anneke and Merentia are waiting for me in George and take me home safely.
Adastique 