I wanted this to be a good news mail of welcoming you back into my healing room or an invitation to a Group Constellation in the new workshop space. Even though I enjoy working online, one reaches a point where there is longing to see people who not confined to a screen. So I kept delaying writing, waiting for the yes. My inner knowing did not give me the go-ahead.

Instead, this mail is to let you know that I am taking a month off from mid-February to mid-March. On my website, there is a list of recommended colleagues – healers and facilitators, that I know and trust. (You will find the Recommendations tab under Bookings).

My father’s passing last year opened the path for me to drop more deeply into ancestral work. Now is the time to do that and to tend to my inner stillness.

When I’m in nature, I Iike to walk between the rocks without the dassies rushing off, or the birds taking flight. Earlier this week while walking up to the Baviaanskloof waterfall, three rock pigeons landed on a rock just in front of me. I stopped. We looked at each other. They hopped off and started wandering around looking for seed between the fynbos, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

I recalled that a rock pigeon that had landed in front of me when I was last in Clanwilliam. I’d never seen rock pigeons in either place previously. Was there a message? I thought about the pair that used to nest at The Anchorage. The thinking mind switched on. I stumbled on up the path. On the way down, in three separate incidents, a rock pigeon flew off in front of me.

Again I stopped. The message was that my stillness barometer was in the red. My ability to turn off my mind at will was no longer working. I focused on my breath. I stood until all I could hear was the ocean in the distance. Very slowly I continued down the mountainside noticing where I placed my feet, hearing the bird song becoming louder as my mind quietened.

PS There were two more rock pigeons (Speckled Pigeons for the avian purists) wandering around the parking area at the beach this morning. As before – in a place that I’d not seen them before. I came home, opened a mail from a teacher and these bird appearances make perfect sense.