DAYS 25 TO 27: WHITE HOUSE AND GOEGAP NATURE RESERVE, SPRINGBOK
Three hours after leaving River Life Resort, we arrived at our last night stop in Namibia. We were greeted by another warm and welcoming host and received a gift of homemade aniseed rusks (a type of thick, hard biscuit enjoyed with coffee at breakfast time by South Africans and Namibians alike) by our hostess. All was good with our world.
The staff, who had serviced the campsite and chalets, were still on site and welcomed us warmly too. We women chatted with ease and enjoyed some moments of laughter. The facilities at White House were neat and well maintained…especially the shower that provided a bountiful amount of instant hot water in a sparklingly clean ablution.
After a very comfortable night, we headed back to the road that took us to the Namibian/SA border post. I could not help but think back to the day that we had entered at the same post and how much healthier I felt. The debilitating tiredness that had dogged me, had vanished and my hands and feet no longer felt detached from my body. I knew that this trip to Namibia had happened at the right time and that I had been given a blessed opportunity to heal.
We progressed through the border quickly and once we were back on the national road heading towards Cape Town, Malcolm and I became enchanted by the sight of dainty and fragile lilac coloured, single-stemmed plants that had pushed their way through the sand. Once we left the river gorge, we were overjoyed to see fields of orange daisies. Later, pink, yellow and purple wild flowers filled the spaces between rocks and hills. So much glory, such beauty, miraculously risen from this usually barren and forlorn soil.
We looked forward to our arrival at Goegap Nature Reserve, which is near Springbok, and settled in there as quickly as possible as the wind was gusting dust all about us. We needed to put up the side-pieces of the awning too, as once more they would provide us with necessary protection against the elements.
This ‘rest’ day gave me a chance to return to The Go(o)dman and the voice of Judgement. I know his voice well. He has walked with me, wherever my shadow has fallen – a judgemental voice, reminding me that I am not perfect. I have learned how to tame this beast, but his roar still finds a way to fill my mind with chatter and sap my energy. There was obviously still some more work to do.
On our second day in this reserve, we drove around the circular drive to view and enjoy the flowers and I allowed myself to simply rest and enjoy the spectacle.
The next morning, as we drove away from Goegap towards the Doring River, I knew that it was time to cement the teachings that had been given to me and to re-explore the deeper meaning of the card, The Lover, that had started my exploration into my ‘self’.
Many years ago, while still attending a mystery school, I had been taught that the three figures on The Lover card were not what they seemed to be. It was explained that the figures were in fact a priest, (the androgenous figure on the left of the card) who was marrying the groom (in the middle) and his fair bride (on the right).
This, I realised, was the myth of Sophia being portrayed in a very telling way. The symbology on this card was a visual confirmation of the decision Sophia had made to prepare herself for her reunification with her Christ Self and to consummate her holy right to return to the Cosmos. I realised that it was important for me to reunify my own masculine active, rational and practical aspect of myself, with my feminine, creative, compassionate and ‘messy’ part of me.
Almost immediately after thinking about this alternative interpretation of this Tarot card, I knew that during this trip of discovery, I had given most of my attention to my feminine feelings and it was important for me to also explore the more masculine aspects of myself too.
The decision made, I knew that my resolve would be tested, but I did not expect it to take only a matter of minutes. While travelling towards Oudrif, it came to my attention that I needed to deal with a situation that had arisen back at home; one that I had been avoiding and that required a response from me.
Needing courage, I called on Madam Justice and internally held her sword and scales, while I became the listener and observer and detached from the drama. This ability to separate myself from the emotion of the situation was a new experience and surprised me. I was, thus able, to express my truth with clarity, compassion and authenticity. Nevertheless, the consequences of what I had said weighed heavily upon me. There would be repercussions, but I knew that I had done my best and that I would be able to deal with the outcome.
Within a short space of time, the issue was amicably settled and gave me the opportunity to acknowledge how much I had learned on this Namibian trip. I realised that I was more able to set firm boundaries, make choices that were best for me and speak in such a way that what I said was heard. I was astounded by this new feeling of certainty that had filled me and I recognised which scenarios on this journey that had helped me to forge these skills.
The car journey south was an abundant wonderland of artistry; the landscape had been recrafted by Mother Nature. Trillions upon trillions of wild flowers in hues of radiant and mellow oranges, sun yellows, brilliant whites, glorious pinks, vibrant magentas, wine reds, soft lilacs, proud blues and regal purples, mesmerised me. Malcolm and I hardly spoke. There came a time when the enormity of what I was seeing brought tears to my eyes. These flowers had been asleep through nine years of severe drought and, according to the locals, were the tallest that they had been in the last 23 years.
The analogy was clear. I too wanted to bloom. I wanted to become the person who I was born to be.
