My Sacred Place…Watching lions sleep.

Fear had me for five months but today I decided to stray a bit from my place and into that park with the green bench and glorious scenery.


This place reminds me of that tree-top place of mine at ALA. The place where I went to pray, cry and meditate. Where I presented my Leadership thesis, which inspired this blog. 

The only short-coming is that I am not too sure of the safety, yeah, despite the alarm team being right behind me so I have to keep checking for anyone who may want to slaughter me or something(aki si I am paranoid! But don’t blame me oh am not the one who put myself in a society where those who should be protecting you are doing everything else but that…). This part kind of reminds me of Sylvia Path’s quotes…especially that last line.


In this place I think of how I am going to create safe spaces and , as Milisuthando so aptly put it today at the Creative Womxn Conference, institutionalise my wokenness through policies and  buildings. I think of how I am going to make the best of all the cards that God has dealt me with.

 I am also thinking of Lion King’s ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ even though ,if you are to take the city of Jozi as the lion, this is far from the truth. The city literally comes alight as the sun slowly sets.I still have no words to explain how that orange hue makes my spirit feel so I slowly take out my phone to capture it…

Afterwards, I start to think about my wild creative woman and how she has been starved. I think of how I want to feed her so that she can become that Chebet in Creative Arts class who saw no limits to her creativity. That Chebet who wrote poetry and proudly performed them despite the feelings of inadequacies. I think of how I can resurrect her by being in that place, writing more often and engaging with like-minded people as well as breaking that Humanities or Science person  boundary. I am both a humanities and sciences person. I want my building projects to speak and express themselves…Ah! then this couple walks into my sacred space and am like, “Why can’t the baeful leave me alone in peace?”. I stay a bit, ponder on my baelessness (just a bit) then leave… 


All in all,  I think I found my sacred place. The kind where a bush can catch fire yet not be consumed. The kind where God continues to speak…

I am gratefulšŸ˜Š