Rule of thirds

Yesterday this time I was at the beach, Tiffany's in Salt Rock. A scorcher of a day, I was grateful to be in the shade at the exact point that vegetation meets beach. Clutching a slithery-wet-cool bottle of milk stout and smoking for a change, I comprehended the world, the most beautiful world, from the rule of thirds' perspective: shadow, beach, ocean / sky.

Right now I'm sitting at a table sipping a cafe in the perfectly peaceful eye of the storm that is Christmas shopping frenzy on 22 December. Words and calmly tuned into the still, quite voice within. Despite the maelstrom.

'Be still and know that I am God.'

Amidst the hurry, flurry, noise and spending I'm at one with my Creator. Needing some space and desiring to be alone, I've come to Gateway in Umhlanga knowing it would be packed. In my anonymity, despite the crowds, I'm enjoying my time alone with Charles.

Here he has perspective. Here he is free.

On another note: Charles, after having not stepped into a Catholic Church since he was, ironically, confirmed in the Church in 1983, and after a long, winding and deeply intensive journey since then, is again embracing his Catholic roots. That's despite Pope Benedict's repulsive homophobia; Charles is still grappling with that one.

A surge of people enter the mall through the automatic glass doors just behind where I'm sitting - on a red chair - at a tiny round table that's the colour of full cream milk. It's the breeze that enter with them that gently seeks my attention. Like an old friend.

Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere is something else: the weather service warned of extreme discomfort, humidity and heat along the coastline today. It's 31 degrees centigrade.