It's Saturday Night Live

Lately I've been reflecting on flow---just going with the flow of life, following one's inner urge, listening underneath the surface of things, not resisting anything, moving into a mature consciousness, just sitting on the pulse---and listening.  Sounds good, huh!

Ok, so I'm in a Mid Service Crisis/Funk!  I woke today doing some meditation, yoga, and thought maybe I'd go on a grand mental cleanse. Hold your horses Tshep---bringing things to light, a mental cleanse, how rewarding and relieving it can potentially be, but, nah, forget all that hogwash, I'm not exactly in an Indian Ashram, and besides, it's Saturday Night in Mmathethe, the nothing capital of the world.

So the very mature conscious side of me decided instead, to stir some Saturday Nightness into several of the locals around here. Having no electricity because of a storm today, I pulled neighbors and friends in, lit some candles, and told them we're going to have some fun, laugh, and yep, we're gonna have a cooking lesson. How's that for fun on a Saturday Night! “Tshepo, what are we going to cook?” We're gonna learn how to make Popcorn, so I start deligated chores for this fiasco, someone get the pot, someone pour some oil in the pot, someone light the gas stove, and someone throw in some popcorn. Good, we're set, and everyone's eyes are glued to the pot--”nothing's happening Tshep.” Just wait, it'll happen---pop, pop, pop, and the people's eyes are huge, some jumped back in true fear, some stared, some were laughing, others in awe of this weird happening. “Tshepo, watch out!” Whaaat---oops---the pot is too small for what we put in, and popcorn is now flying all over the place, the lid blew off the pot, people are laughing, and some don't know what to do, so I yelp, “start catching it with your mouth.” Well, they did, mouths are opening everywhere, even Keoki liked the popcorn game, and frankly, was better at it than all.

 All of a sudden, the popping stops---quiet hovers over the candle lit and popcorn ladened kitchen---someone looks at me and says, “now what Tshep!” Ok, the amusement is over, we put salt on the popped corn that was saved, and all devoured the newly found treasure that they have never seen done before. “Tshepo---this was magic.” “No, it's not really magic, It's Saturday Night Live in Mmathethe.”