Synchronised Life

I was speaking this morning on how Creator sends messages and guidance our way in so many different forms.

Literally the moment that I finished with my live publication I scrolled down once and I discovered an image that emphasized every word I had just shared and this for me was absolute divine intervention.πŸ‘πŸ½

What signs are you avoiding from the universe? Where are you turning a blind eye to warnings or guidance that you should be listening to? Do you even believe that divine intervention exists and it can impact your life or do you feel everything just is?

I really look forward to hearing your thoughts and beliefs on this πŸ€—β˜ΊοΈπŸ™πŸ½πŸ™πŸ½πŸ’™πŸ’œπŸ’ƒπŸ½πŸŒ€

Social Media Business Binge

Hey everybody.

So it’s been a while since I was working on my blog . Change of phones, old tech all that jazz, but I’m officially back.

Working on my business model I’ve had to revamp my entire social media presence so as much as I’m cringing at having so many accounts again, I just wanted to inform everyone that I’m officially back on:

WordPress;Instagram; twitter and Facebook. I’m embracing dancing Rivers as my personal brand for my career and personal life so you’ll be seeing a lot of flowing πŸ˜‰

As weird as it is for me to have so many profiles, I look forward to sharing my day to living with you all and hopefully adding value to your scrolling❀️

Change in tough times

As we all know, the world is in a state of crisis at present. The covid-19 pandemic has caught us all off guard and many of us are having to find new ways of being.

In the spirit of embracing change I have been looking for creative new ways to spend my time as well as to bring in a source of income.

In this endeavor I have stumbled upon an opportunity of a lifetime and this is what I want to write about today!

The new venture I have begun is a answer to a prayer for me. A business that let’s me work from wherever I want, earn a life changing income, while changing people’s lives with products that are the medicine of the future.

Cannabis is the medicine of our ancestors and it is the medicine of the future! I made a choice to join this business to promote this incredible gift from the earth, create financial freedom for myself and help others do the same.

The best news is that it was absolutely !!!!free!!!! to join this business and this offer ends at the end of April!!!!

If you want to become a part of a revolution in health and wealth then WhatsApp me Hazel on: 081-744-7013 to find out how you too can change your life and the lives of those around you! Time is ticking there are five days left to join this business absolutely free!!

Discord in Africa

Discord in Africa

by Dancing Rivers   Jul 3, 2017

From the top of the hill I can feel

the wind blowing on my face

Ngokujabulisayo ukufaka Ngezinwele zami

(blissfuly toying with my hair)

watching the sun play games

on the backs of Hadedas

as they stalk the grasses

in search of voluptuous worms

on which to feast.

red-beaked beauties

sparkling blue and violet

in the late afternoon sun

I momentarily ponder their bliss.

What magic is there

in the casual stroll of a bird

in their lovely wings

fragile steel oars

steering them through

all of the storms of life.

In the distance I hear Isithuthuthu,

a motorbike roaring past the hill,

breaking the nonchalant feast

of my feathered friends.

Frantically they scurry into the air

cackling their disgust

at having been disturbed

in their afternoon gathering.

What magic is there

on that hilltop

with only the Hadedas

keeping me company.

With a sigh I too scurry off

back to my house in disgust

at having been denied

intimate whisperings

with my dear friends.

The stillness of the silent waters

The stillness of the silent waters

by Dancing Rivers   Dec 25, 2018

I quite miss the uncertainty

of the roaring gales of fire

that were once the heart of this world…

For in those moments of uncertainty

imagination was as ripe as a sweet melon

whose juices flowed freely for all.

Yet I find myself quite uncertain

of the many roads to adventure

as they seem to leave me charred…

How could it be

that once I was as innocent

as the child that grew in my womb

Yet today I find scars in the pages

torn from the book of my soul

the many un-uttered phrases

Which may have saved my soul.

Indeed it was in those pages

that I found solace

I found the passions of life

In the darkest caves of my being

there I found my true power

the light within the darkness.

Still I feel as though somehow

with one subtle glimpse perhaps,

I could reignite that fire

Burning away all that was sweet

Giving rise to a phoenix

an array of delirious hazy blooms

of sparkling passion.

I am the phoenix, yet…

I find my wings to heavy to bare

the ashes hold us down

The fire consumes all mearth

Where we are

where we are

by Dancing Rivers Jul 3, 2017

Walk with me down the rabbit hole

the other side of the endless blue sky.

travel with me to a place only we know

where clouds are actually silver fairies.

Take my hand and go with me

to the place over the mountains

let’s dance in the rings of Saturn

and sip on the nectar of Jupiter

Knowing that we are free

knowing that where we are

love will follow

Unutterable ramblings

Unutterable nuances

  Dec 25, 2018

Ego, spirit, heart and soul

merge as one in the stillness

the blissful radiance of AH!

Sounds of God resonate in all-

forms of perpetuated existence-

numbing the void of Lux~ferre

the dark one who comforts.

The one who calls in the eve

of a peaceful morning

before light smiles upon the land

the one promising healing in pain

One in the same they are

Ah and Lux~ferre

angels of light and dark

They bare the same mark

of eternal knowing

yet we feed both with fear

and lust the sight of them.

When will we learn

All is one and one is all

we are but dust

in an endless sandstorm

eternally changeable

yet stagnant in egoic forms

of limited visions of tomorrow

We are as one wise man said:

“Dust and shadows”

swirling through the light of day.

Hoping for a better dream

yet swaying towards

our inevitable doom

Self sabotage

in the name of Source

Supreme stupidity we sing


*Poets note: Lux-ferre- latin for lucifer, meaning bearer of light or morning star

note that jesus was also called the morning star, hence the two sides of the same being.*

Whimsy is a widow’s wish

Dec 25, 2018

Whimsy is a subtle kiss

Of death on naked life

A sullen frown

Turned upside down

Along the rabbit hole

Whimsy is the notion of

Something rather fair

Yet in it’s depth

You might caress

Something not quite there

Whimsy is a sparkling gloom

Of whispered dreams at twilight

A subtle glance and then,

Perchance, you’ll meet your plight

At noon.

Whimsy is a widow’s wish

Upon a whiskey keg.

Yet in it’s kiss, rather brisk,

She found she’d lost her head.

Violets still bleed

Dancing Rivers Β  Jul 3, 2017

In this dark room I sit

contemplating the darkness of my shadow.

Where once there was ultra-violet perfection

I see nothing but shards of myself

Lying there like some corpse

awaiting it’s transformation

waiting for the winds of change

to melt it away like dust in the desert.

What grievances are there to ponder

in this corner of my soul

where once there was the laughter

of innocent youth, I see in it-

the scraggly rags of a life

torn by social dogmas and sorrows

draped in the sheer brutality

of misunderstandings and mistrust.

At what point did that pretty violet

become deprived of it’s fleshy youth?

If forgiveness were the scent

a violet gave off after being murdered

then ah, many may rest in peace

alas, violets still bleed.

Still claw at the last dregs

of dignity and hope long lost.

They still cling to dreams

knowing death’s kiss shall come






We are one with the divine

As a girl I used to sing along so mindlessly

to the words of the black-eyed- peas.

now I sit and contemplate,

where indeed is the love.

We have lived for so long in separation

we don’t save space for the realisation

that all of love’s wisdom is in acceptance.

Our ancestors offered us their guidance.

In vain the earth mother cries

“love my children great and small”

see the oceans rise and fall.

Where are the keepers of the ancient knowledge

where are those who dance with the Goddess

where are those with ears to hear

have we all become deaf and blind?

I want to speak what is on my mind

I find it hard that it’s hard to find

a little love and acceptance

when we should just go back to remembrance

All life is sacred!

Wisdom’s sorrow

brothers who are bold and strong

sisters who are wise and worthy

does it not bring you grief

to see the great Earth-mother suffer?

Where did we go wrong

where did we tarry

that we can poison oceans and seas

and not care for one another?

when our cousins the trees

have to beg for relief

does it not make you

curl up and weep?

I’m sorry but it hurts

when I have to use fancy words

to make the world see

what we are doing, you and me.

brothers who are bold and strong

sisters who are wise and worthy

let us make right our wrongs

let us all live in harmony

Editing is not for ninnys

So after proudly sharing my draft of 3000 words of chapter one, I ended up scrapping most of it after reading it over in context to the following chapters and I realised it was just not flowing.

I’m proud to announce that 5778 words later, a stunning new addition of chapter one is ripe and ready to become a part of a story that is changing me inside out.

Chapter one is the very foundation of my life. An exploration of a romance between two utterly different people, set in the magnificent backdrop of the world famous Victoria falls.

Curses taint joy. Adrenaline may have some part to play in a love connection and a little known story is told withing a story about the native water deity NyamiNyami.

I am just so absolutely overjoyed and excited to jump to the next chapter and yet, I feel like I simply want to sit with my ancestors a little more in chapter one and absorb their essence into me so they can travel with me and guide me to the next part of their story.

The place of rainbows

Of apples and trees

I often ponder in those silent moments,

if Adam and Eve were under a spell

an enchantment of purple haze

when they ate of the forbidden fruit?

Can an apple really be so awful,

as to separate man from source?

I would love to have been Adam

perhaps even Eve, when Source-

in all it’s glorious rage-

threw his toys-Adam and Eve

out of the proverbial cot.

Is Source a child then?

if it knew it’s abc’s

would add to 1,2 and 3

why did he allow Eve

to tempt humanity?

I’m sorry I know this makes you mad

but my question is, are apples really that bad?

What crowd did the apple hang around with

that she would be such a temptation?

Did the sweet apple lose her morals?

or was she perhaps underdressed

exposing her flesh

for all of man to see?

Did she hang around

with that guy rape,

the oldest brother of the tobacco plants?

Did he entice her to be more than

just a sweet little juicy fruit?

Was our friend the apple

a bit of a tramp, who fell too far from the tree?

And what of Eve?

Did she enjoy being a submissive lady

knowing she wasn’t Adam’s first?

DID she know about Lilith?

Now see

this is so far from poetry

but who was the serpent on the tree…

can you blame any mortal for being fascinated

by something shiny and new?

Like Raven the trickster,

who stole the shinning sun

and gave it to the people of Earth

did Lucifer…Bless..Eve?

if you know what I mean…

Adam, Lilith and Eve. The Trinity.

Rantings of a then chickpea writer

Rantings of a chick-pea writer

by Dancing Rivers   Jul 3, 2017

there is something so wonderful

about launching yourself

into the great abyss

you find yourself realising

there is no difference between

“positive” and “negative”

Why do we nail ourselves to a cross

because we think we need a fancy car

but we struggle to put food on the table

aren’t we all tired of eating soup and bread

whilst the elite feast on our blood sweat and tears

I don’t blame jack for planting the magic beans

and feasting off the giant’s chicken and peas

hell I would have done the same, clever boy.

I’m tired of living in ‘fast lanes with fast cars”

I’m tired of “all of the lights”

I just want to sit on my porch

eat my chicken and peas

or maybe have a chick-pea curry

ranting about the ways of this world

When words cast spells

The journey through the rivers of words that I’ve written so far has been rather melancholic.

At first I was eager to simply spew out words and format a book that could be sold. This all changed rapidly though. You see; as I was editing chapter one, removing some loopholes and red herrings in the story, I was suddenly consumed by the need to make the story true to life events. To honor the people I’m writing of by making their memory as real as I feel them.

A few words became a few feelings which then became new intentions. Magic was created. In writing especially of my mother, each word drew her face ever closer to me as though she were standing before me telling her own story.

In some ways I’m aware that I have begun a healing process to clear the karma of my mother’s bloodline by letting the truth of who I am flow out of me unapologetically. Each chapter focuses on a new time or aspect of my life and with each one, new feelings arise to be embraced and danced to the healing waters where they can flow freely outward. No longer burdening me with the weight of ancestral voices calling for peace.

Now I look into the mirror, I see reflections of my mother, and yes, her mother before her. I look I to my eyes and I see my heritage staring back at me. I see the pain of my ancestors and the strength of the women who came before me. I see the darkness that destroyed my grandmother and the blinding light of my mother’s love and courage.

I look now I to the mirror and I see a woman who was created with stories of other women before her. I hear their songs and their joys and I feel the comfort of their spirits around me. I feel the power of the magical words that spun their essence into existence.

Once upon a time I was merely Hazel Phillips. Running away from the past and the pain it carried with it. Today I stand before the looking glass and I am proud to call myself Hazel Phillips Dube. Daughter of Loveness Dube.

I carry my name with pride and I bare my crosses with humility, knowing I carry them for my daughter after me to walk an easier, lighter path.


Dancing through the river

I have always toyed with the idea of writing my own story since I was a little girl. Yet each time I picked up pen and paper, insecurities would plague me. “Will it be readable?” “Will anyone even care what is written?” “How will I get views for my book?” And on went the internal dialogue over the years (despite friends and teachers encouraging me to pursue writing). As a last ditch attempt at putting me in the right direction, the universe sent a friend my way.

This friend sent me a PDF folder of a short story he had read and asked my opinion of it. I read all two pages of the short story…

My initial reaction was “what on earth is actually happening here?” No real plotline, awful grammar. Lacking gravely in punctuation and there was not one speck of emotional impact from the “story”. I gave said friend feedback to which he agreed and he challenged me to write my own short story.

A few months ago I began working on a romance novella that tells the story of a mafia King’s son and an exotic African princess. (Yeah great clichΓ© and unoriginal). This novella already had five pages by the start, yet I felt that I was forcing something that didn’t want to be shared. Writer’s block plagued me and I was feeling rather sorry for myself.

On the day the real “aha!” Moment arrived, I was mulling over the writer’s block and why I couldn’t get over it and somewhere along the line the thought occurred to me that perhaps because I was writing something completely unnatural to me and my senses.

That day, a week ago to be exact, I sat down and started to pen down the first stirrings of my life story. Suddenly my mind was alight with memory and feeling and joy. Chapter one was finished in the same day and edited the next. And in this I learnt that true writing has to come from the heart.

This is what this blog is about. My heartfelt experiences as a medium, mom, writer and poet (and all the other silly hats I wear throughout the day).

I hope this blog will reflect the reality of who I am and where I came from. To show the world the legacy of my family and leave something special of me for my daughter especially to look back on one day.

Let the magic pour forth

Medium not so rare

I grew up sort of mystified by mediums, psychics and intuitive people. Though in all honesty I highly doubted their true abilities and gifts.

In all fairness, how can you believe something that you can’t see can be so powerful as to see right through a person? “Humph! They must have scripted every melodramatic scene!” I’d mutter.

Now-laughing- I realise the error in my judgement. No, indeed you cannot judge a gift of a spiritual nature with your eyes and your logic. After all, how do you explain to someone that you see spirits and events as projections outside of yourself at times, then the very next moment they inhabit the same body that had been observing their coming and goings. A battle of wills is then waged. The spirit testing the waters to see if any more space will be relinquished and the psyche fighting to maintain control of the body it is native to.

The spirit tests the waters

In all manner of speaking, a medium is a spiritual soldier. Waging wars, protecting their kin. The medium’s job is to maintain that eternally fragile veil hence the term “medium”. She is the go-between of the physical and spiritual realms. Holding one at a distant while drawing the other ever nearer at the risk of being utterly consumed herself.

The medium calls forth that primal; trancelike state from the depth of her core being. Persuading; with formalities, the spirit to heed her call.

Welcoming the spirit

I have thus learnt that the gift of mediumship and channeling is not one to be taken lightly. Yet like all other talents and skills, one must use the gift in order to fully integrate each reading.

How to of medium ship:

  • Work in a clean, tranquil space
  • Welcome sitter and smudge
  • Open with expansion meditation
  • Welcome higher self and sitter’s higher self
  • Ask for guides to step forward
  • Look with your minds’ eye for signs and symbols
  • Feel the energy of the visiting spirit guide to detect possible messages
  • Translate symbols and energy into understandable message for sitter
  • Discuss personal meaning and ways to enact advice in real life
  • Close with prayer and grounding
  • Thank guides and helpers