Tag: spiritual

  • Spiritual Lessons From Beggars

    Spiritual Lessons From Beggars

    Jacques de Villiers – writing quest: Article 47/365

    I’m that guy. When I see that the robot is red I slow down so that I can catch it as it turns green. All in the effort to avoid the beggar. And, if I am confronted by the beggar (damn you red robot), I do that verkakte, patronising shrug and mouth, “Sorry, no money.”

    Don’t get me started on shopping centre car guards. I’ve been known to leopard-crawl to my car to avoid being seen by one. I close my car door quietly and slink low into my driver’s seat. God forbid I alert the Velociraptor, and he chases me down.

    Now I know that you’re not as crass, cruel and cowardly as me. You’re probably kind, courteous and generous. This article’s not for you.

    My white guilt and privilege smacks me around the head. I feel sorry and sympathetic. I’m pissed off at a country that has allowed this travesty to happen for reasons we are all aware of. But, mostly, I’m irritated at the beggar/car guard for making me feel shit. 

    I don’t feel shit any more after coming across a story by Carlos Castaneda. He was sitting with his spiritual teacher, the Yaqui shaman, Don Juan Matus at a restaurant in Mexico. They watched as beggars took scraps off the table after the patrons left. Don Juan asks Castaneda if he felt sorry for the beggars. Castaneda affirmed. Don Juan then asked him if he felt superior to them. Sheepishly, he affirmed this too. Then Don Juan asks him, “What makes you think that they haven’t found the path before you?”

    Damn right. When it comes to matters of the soul, it doesn’t matter if you’re a CEO or a street sweeper. We’re held to account equally. All that matters is how you conducted yourself here.

    Have you ever asked, “Where are you God?” The answer will probably be, “I am here begging in front of you. I’m helping you reverse your car out of the parking space.” So, basically, he’s everywhere. This effectively means we should always be in a state of awe and gratitude every second of the day. 

    And, if like me, you believe that we signed a soul contract of how we are going to show up in this world, then the beggar is where he is supposed to be. I appreciate being given a chance to show compassion and empathy, and to feel grateful that he is also participating in this game. 

    He shows me my frailty. My vanity. My shame. My guilt. My anger. My kindness. My compassion. My love. He’s just doing his job. He’s allowing me to look at things that trigger me negatively so that I can let go of them. And, he’s allowing me to be generous and kind. And, most of all, he’s allowing me to see God in all his glory.

    So, nowadays, when I don’t have money to give (or even if I do), I look at the beggar and think, “Wow my friend, you’ve chosen a hard path to play your part. It’s not a path I would have liked to sign up for. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to show you compassion and love. “I wish you abundance, today.”

    “Thank you, God, for showing yourself at the robot today.”

    We are all here for a purpose. Let’s honour that and play our role out to the best of our ability.

  • Ingratitude is the ultimate discourtesy

    Ingratitude is the ultimate discourtesy

    I recently finished reading Muhammad: A Prophet for Our Time by Karen Armstrong, a renowned author on comparative religion.

    There was a piece about the definition of kafir that piqued my interest. For my South African reader, you know that we have our own distasteful history with the word “kaffir” which we annexed with great gusto from the British writer, H. Rider Haggard (see footnote at the end of this article).

    But today we are talking about kafir >>>

    I’ve always been led to believe that kafir meant a non-believer who has malevolent intentions towards Islam and Muslims. The kafirun (الكافرون) of Mecca were the non-believers who rejected the God of Muhammad.

    According to Armstrong, kafir derives from the root KFR (“ingratitude”), which implies a discourteous refusal of something that is offered with great kindness and generosity.

    I find that definition more preferable.

    I understand that by being invited to this experience is no small thing. That I was chosen to play in this theatre called life is a gift beyond comprehension. One that should be viewed with awe and gratitude.

    Every time I blame and complain, and feel the destructive desolation of self-pity, I’m no better than a kafir.

    I’ve come to learn that self-pity is an operating system. The more I wallow in it, the more I attract that which feeds it.

    Gratitude is an operating system too, the more I revel in it, the more I attract that which feeds it.

    I’m going to start doing more of the latter because gratitude truly is the grammar of success. Do you want to join me?

    Footnote. I love looking for the etymological roots of words. Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock, you’ll know that South Africa has a unique relationship with the k-word. Not that it’s any consolation, but neither the Dutch nor the Afrikaner invented the word. The British writer H. Rider Haggard, who lived in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, often used the word “kaffir” in his novels about Africa. This term was used to refer to black people in the region at that time. We may not have invented the word, but hell, we certainly milked it dry.

  • Now that was from left field … panic attacks

    Now that was from left field … panic attacks

    A couple of people on this list said that I haven’t sent out a piece of text for a while. Since 8 February. Who knew?

    Who knew that I’d have a massive panic attack in Fourways Mall around that time because I couldn’t find out where my car was parked.

    And, they haven’t stopped since. So, it’s been a bit debilitating.

    But the anxiety and panic that I’ve had to deal with have also been a good thing and a gift. Although they’re really terrifying at the time.

    The attacks have reminded me that I still have unresolved woundings that I need to deal with (or not).

    They’re the normal suspects … you know … shame, guilt, rejection, abandonment, fear. Like I said in my Final Destination article of 8 February … rather deal with your woundings sooner than later because the more you run from them, the more they come at you. A ‘what you resist will persist’ vibe.

    The monsters will keep coming until you face them.

    So, what did I do?

    • A friend recommended a book called DARE: A new way to end anxiety and stop panic attacks. If you are afflicted (gifted) by anxiety, this is a good start and really helpful.
    • I’ve started looking at and processing my past woundings. Good grief, that opened a Pandora’s Box of unimaginable proportions. Fortunately, I have highly evolved conscious friends guiding me to healing, including the intuitive healer, Estelle Kapp and gatekeeper and enlightened guardian, Howard Burger of the Namaskar Wellness Hub. And, of course, my long-suffering friend who has picked me up off the floor more times than I can remember, Stef du Plessis. It is blindingly apparent though, that they can only facilitate the process of healing … I have to take the responsibility to heal myself.
    • So, that’s what I’m doing. Taking the illumination that is already in me and healing me. The result is short of miraculous. Just by facing down and dealing with some of my demons (there’s a long way to go, and apparently it is a lifetime of work), the anxiety and panic attacks have all but gone.
    • I don’t know what you’re going through, probably a lot worse than me. What I do know is that the more I deal with my woundings, the more I start to heal the more my light shines and the closer I get to fulfilling my purpose.

    I trust these insights are helpful to you.

    I love you,

    Jacques

  • Move it up

    Move it up

    Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and have a small panic attack because you feel as if you’re running out of road and running out of time?

    I do. I have plans for my life, but these might not be the plans that are destined for me, and I might be called back to Eden before I can manifest them.

    I’ve decided to move things up and get as much out of this experience as I can. I’m not going to wait for ‘when the time is right’ or for ‘when I’m ready’. I’m doing shit now. I’m starting my new books, now. I’m loving myself, now. I’m taking those trips, now. I’m telling the woman in my life, “I love you”, now. I’m taking my sister for lunch, now. I’m telling you who are reading this how much I appreciate you, now.

    Maybe you want to join me and move things up. Don’t kid yourself, there’s never going to be a perfect moment to do this. Well, there is … and, it’s now.

    Remember, you have everything that is needed for this extravagant journey that is your life. When you were born, you were born full, not empty. There’s no reason to strive for things to fill you. You’re overfull of potential, love and grace. Strive for things because it is pleasurable and because it pleases your creator. Your creator is always pleased when you are pleased, when you are pure potential, when you manifest the light in you, when you hold your power, when you’re YOU.

    Go now, after you’ve read this piece, go and make that connection, give that hug, tell someone who needs to hear it that you love them (and, whilst you’re about it, tell yourself that you love you).

    Go now!

  • The Point Of Purpose

    The Point Of Purpose

    You’ve probably heard all these motivational sorts talk about finding your purpose.

    But a purpose is not to be found … just by being born, we’ve already found and fulfilled our purpose.

    We tend to confuse purpose with an outcome. You’ve probably heard things like:

    – My family is my purpose.
    – My purpose is to make a difference.
    – My purpose is to help the destitute find loving homes.
    – My purpose is to be a good person so that I can get to heaven.

    You catch my drift. It’s all outcomes based.

    When we open our eyes, we see everything coming at us. We are central to everything. We are essentially the point of the whole exercise.

    This story that we are in was written to enchant and enthral us. We were created to witness this magnificent play that was crafted for us.

    When we witness a beautiful piece of art, listen to an entrancing piece of music or see a majestic mountain range, it’s appropriate to be in awe of it all.

    Our purpose is to enjoy everything that has been written for us. We are the point. We are the outcome. Our purpose is not to get an outcome.

  • Ghost

    Ghost

    Sunday, 31 May 2020

    How long has this lockdown been. 8 weeks? 9 weeks? I don’t know. It feels interminable. I feel like I have no voice in this new world. It has brought the best and the worst out of me. It has united and polarised us. It has unmasked the biases I didn’t know I had … and, never wanted to confront. I think that many of us are clamouring to be heard. We want to know that we still have voice, that we still matter and that there is still meaning. We’re not being heard and not being seen None of us. We’re ghosts …

    I cook. I clean. I wash. I work. I drive. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m alone. I’m a mother. I’m a ghost.

    I fix things. I work. I pick up. I drop off. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m lonely. I’m a father. I’m a ghost.

    I stand on the street corner. I work. I wave my sign. I smile. I look frail. I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I’m hurt. I love. I shout. I scream. Why don’t they see me? Why don’t they hear me? I’m a beggar. I’m a ghost.

    I study. I eat. I stay in my room. I do chores. I love. I’m lonely. I try to fit in. I don’t fit in. Why am I invisible? I shout. I scream. I’m a son. I’m a daughter. I’m a ghost.

    I’m restless. I’m needy. I’m unfulfilled. I’m weak. I’m powerless. I want to be loved. I want to love. I’m lost. I’m lonely. I’m alone. Someone notice me … please. I’m human. I’m a ghost.

    If like me, you’ve ever felt lost, unappreciated, unloved, unfulfilled, regretful, guilty, dissatisfied, disjointed, fractured or disappointed, then you know what a ghost feels like.

    It cannot get peace (and leave this realm) because it’s trapped in a pit of self-pity, a river of regret and a desert of depression.

    It’ll only be released to blessed peace and the bosom of mother Eden when it lets go of its expectations of how the world should be.

    If it expects the world to be appreciative, loving and grateful for it being sentient, it’ll be damned to an eternity of regret, dissatisfaction and disappointment.

    The ghost can only find solace when it realises that the world owes it nothing. Its children owe it nothing. Its boss owes it nothing. Its employees owe it nothing. Its spouse owes it nothing. The planet owes it nothing.

    It will only find peace and move on when it realises that it owes everything – appreciation, happiness, awe, gratitude and love to the world and those that rent space in it.

    We should make peace with the world as it is now and make peace with our role in it. The consequences and regret of not doing so will last for an eternity. Once the ghost allows itself to accept things as they are, and gives itself up with grace, only then will it be released into an eternity of joy.

    This piece of text is a vignette from my book, What If Hollywood Doesn’t Call? A Fractured Monk’s Guide To Enlightenment. I wrote it a year or so ago, it feels like I wrote it for today.

    Goodbye and hello PechaKucha Johannesburg

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    I popped you a message on Friday regarding the future of PechaKucha Johannesburg. If you missed it, you can read it here.

    Guess the author

    I’d love your help. Have a look at the doodle below. Who’s the author you’d think of first? If you have the time and inclination, please pop me an email with who you think it is. In next week’s newsletter, I’ll reveal the results and the rationale behind the question.

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    Those People

    Do you remember last week’s piece called Those People? Apparently, I have learned a new skill in lockdown and turned it into a short (01:04) video. It’s a wonderful way to repurpose the key points of your written content. Have a peek at it and let me know what you think.

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    My best to you,

    Jacques

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    Let me write your EPIC legacy story.

    If you think someone else will enjoy this newsletter, please forward it to them.

    If this is the first time you have seen this newsletter, go and check out the archives and subscribe.

  • The Shallows

    The Shallows

    I was at the beach a couple of weeks ago. When I swam I stayed in the shallows.

    Every now and again, I’d spot a small fish or some sea shells.

    It was pleasant enough. But after a while I got bored. Seriously, one can only body surf for so much.

    When I’m at the sea, I always want swim deeper and further out. I never do. The bottom line is that I’m scared. I’m not a great swimmer and I’ve seen Jaws.

    This means when it comes to the sea, I’ll pretty much always wallow in the shallows and never venture out to unknown adventure.

    I worry that I conduct my life the same way.

    I stay in the shallow, safe and superficial world. This limits my experience to the house I live in, the neighbourhood I stay in, the stores I shop at and the people I hang out with.

    I strive for things that I can see – houses, cars, food and friends.

    If I had the courage to don a wet suit and scuba tank, I could go deeper into the sea and discover the many beautiful and astounding creatures that are hidden from me.

    I could have a fuller and richer experience.

    I know the same is true for me when I go deeper into myself. When I try and connect with my soul my experiences are more fulfilling.

    But, if I go too deep, I get scared of what I might find. I’m scared that the demons and angels will give me the answers I seek so that I actually have to man up and do the work in front of me. That, of course is getting to my final destination in good shape through the experiences of now.

    I’m not brave enough to take charge and be really happy. I then leave the depths and come back to the shallows where I feel safe. Where I think I have some semblance of control.

    But the shallows are a deceptively dangerous place to be. A shark can take me in a couple of feet of water, blue bottles can sting me and shells can cut me.

    The same goes for thinking that I can remain a surface dweller, safe and sound in a world that’s familiar to me.

    Dangers lurk there too. You know it and I know it.

    There are risks associated with both staying in the shallows and going deep.

    Staying in the shallows stops me from having a rich, full experience of this gift that I have been given … life.

    Going inward and deeper has the potential to free me to become a creature of grace and gratitude.

    But, it’s hard to be free because I’m used to being a slave. I’m used to pandering to the whims of my many masters so that they can feed me the scraps from the table.
    It’s the safer option … being a slave. The harder option is being free but potentially starving to death.

    But, what if I’m free and I thrive? What would that mean?

    I have faith that if I go deep and set myself free, there’s no way I’ll starve. I’ll have abundance and way more than is my due.

    Let’s go swim, you and I. Let’s go deep.

    Jacques de Villiers helps organisations, professional speakers, authors and entrepreneurs triumph through: sales training, motivational speaking and consulting.

  • The Profane Creator

    The Profane Creator

    The more I play on this planet the more I realise that there is no difference between the sacred and the profane.

    The mundane, material and carnal activities that we do in this world are sacred. Going to work, studying, feeding a baby or changing a lightbulb is divine.

    If we so choose, any day-to-day activity can have a significant meaning. There are no small tasks, only God’s tasks.

    That we get to take out the trash is a mundane task so worthy of awe and gratitude.

    I don’t know about you, but I’m happy to take out the trash every day for the rest of my journey here. It means I get to play a while longer. I get to love here. I get to cry here. I get to experience here. I get to live.

    There is divine in everything we do. And, it is up to us to realise this and be grateful for even the most mundane aspects of our lives.

    Something like breathing is a mundane activity, isn’t it? We seldom give it thought, do we? But, stop breathing and see how our world comes crumbling down in an instant.

    If we reflect on it, what divine conspiracy had to come into play so that you and I could take out the trash?

    All I know is that there’s four billion years or so of a grand design to allow you and me to be able to do the mundane.

    No matter how tiresome the task, it’s still a blessing.

    Every hum drum activity is an opportunity to polish our intent so that we get to Eden in good shape.

    The way we conduct ourselves in even the most menial activity reveals our character. Everything we do is here to shape us into the human we could become. A human that’s full of character, kindness, patience, love, gratitude and grace.

    Go on, wash the dishes and rejoice because it’s all sacred.

    Jacques de Villiers helps organisations, professional speakers, authors and entrepreneurs triumph through: sales training, motivational speaking and consulting.