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Philile Sekgothe

Writer. Poet. Care Worker.

"Writing is not a mere form of therapeutic expression

It in itself tends to use me as its therapist"

- Philile Nkabinde

Home: About Me

“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” - M. Oliver 🕊️

“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” - M. Oliver 🕊️

A woman whose weapons of choice are her sonic poems, guitar strums and late grandmother’s prayers.

[Thank you @cipcipyouthawards for having me, and for celebrating innovation by protecting the creative IP of young creators]. 💌

A woman whose weapons of choice are her sonic poems, guitar strums and late grandmother’s prayers.

[Thank you @cipcipyouthawards for having me, and for celebrating innovation by protecting the creative IP of young creators]. 💌

The mundanity of life is a rather beautiful thing to exist inside of.

The mundanity of life is a rather beautiful thing to exist inside of.

Found myself at the edge of the world again. I am left astonished every time.

Found myself at the edge of the world again. I am left astonished every time.

[ In the middle of everywhere. ]

Reminiscing fondly on the tender days at @mdumbi 🌿.

#mdumbibackpackers #mdumbibeach

[ In the middle of everywhere. ]

Reminiscing fondly on the tender days at @mdumbi 🌿.

#mdumbibackpackers #mdumbibeach

What else is there to live for if not life itself? If not wandering through a small coastal beach town barefooted while eating a small mango?

What else is there to live for if not life itself? If not wandering through a small coastal beach town barefooted while eating a small mango?

Notes From a Daughter of the Earth and Ocean

The order of each day continues to be pure in its wonder and witnessing. My deep breaths are being shaped by all that’s been affecting me lately; the soft and solid ground I get to walk on barefooted, the salt that lingers on my tongue after having baptised myself in the silent waves at low tide and the return of the birds that fly in parallel pairs.

It is the changing greens in the leaves of trees and the hum of the singing sea that permits me to hear the hush of my heart as holy.

Note to Present Self: Childlike joy looks good on you. Bask in it. Float upon it. Let yourselves cry because of it.

Notes From a Daughter of the Earth and Ocean

The order of each day continues to be pure in its wonder and witnessing. My deep breaths are being shaped by all that’s been affecting me lately; the soft and solid ground I get to walk on barefooted, the salt that lingers on my tongue after having baptised myself in the silent waves at low tide and the return of the birds that fly in parallel pairs.

It is the changing greens in the leaves of trees and the hum of the singing sea that permits me to hear the hush of my heart as holy.

Note to Present Self: Childlike joy looks good on you. Bask in it. Float upon it. Let yourselves cry because of it.

On a rainy evening in July, inside a wooden A-frame hut nestled in a coastal village called Tshani in the Transkei, gentle improvisation emerges out of the intention to be present in the Now.

The first petal of a flower, placed on an Altar of Presence and the Places In Between.

The smoke of the rose incense and the flickering light from the candles whisper their incantations of eloquence. The rain relentlessly patters on.

[The link to the full offering can be located in my bio 💌].

On a rainy evening in July, inside a wooden A-frame hut nestled in a coastal village called Tshani in the Transkei, gentle improvisation emerges out of the intention to be present in the Now.

The first petal of a flower, placed on an Altar of Presence and the Places In Between.

The smoke of the rose incense and the flickering light from the candles whisper their incantations of eloquence. The rain relentlessly patters on.

[The link to the full offering can be located in my bio 💌].

It’s as though Thursday afternoons are specifically meant for self-baptism in the womb of the Mother.
//
“There is beauty even in this impermanence.
Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.”

It’s as though Thursday afternoons are specifically meant for self-baptism in the womb of the Mother.
//
“There is beauty even in this impermanence.
Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.”

Unruly and untamed
Grows wildly, has many names
Dyed brown by the sun’s rays
Over 3 years, 4 months and a couple of days

Freely formed & self-maintained.

~

“The Wild Woman leaves behind on the terrain of a woman’s soul, coarse hair and muddy footprints. Which fill women with longing to find Her, free Her and love Her.”

//Who is the Wild Woman?//
“She is the voice that says ‘This way, this way.’
She is the maker of cycles.
She is the one we leave home to look for.
She is also the one we come home to.
She leaves footprints wherever there is a woman who is fertile soil.
She lives where the dead come to be kissed.
She lives where the living send their prayers.
She lives in the tear and in the ocean.”

[Excerpt from ‘Women who Run with the Wolves’ by Clarissa Pinkola Estés]

Unruly and untamed
Grows wildly, has many names
Dyed brown by the sun’s rays
Over 3 years, 4 months and a couple of days

Freely formed & self-maintained.

~

“The Wild Woman leaves behind on the terrain of a woman’s soul, coarse hair and muddy footprints. Which fill women with longing to find Her, free Her and love Her.”

//Who is the Wild Woman?//
“She is the voice that says ‘This way, this way.’
She is the maker of cycles.
She is the one we leave home to look for.
She is also the one we come home to.
She leaves footprints wherever there is a woman who is fertile soil.
She lives where the dead come to be kissed.
She lives where the living send their prayers.
She lives in the tear and in the ocean.”

[Excerpt from ‘Women who Run with the Wolves’ by Clarissa Pinkola Estés]

Where time stands still and stillness sits between the false hands of time.

[Memories in time, shared with and captured on film by the fairy goddess herself @heatheryyfeatheryy @heatherfeathersfilm 🧚🏻.]

// Circa March 2024

Where time stands still and stillness sits between the false hands of time.

[Memories in time, shared with and captured on film by the fairy goddess herself @heatheryyfeatheryy @heatherfeathersfilm 🧚🏻.]

// Circa March 2024

Her Melody, Our Song
[A soundscape created by story-gatherer and archivist @mkutaji in conversation with the brilliant mind and beautiful heart of writer and social activist, Dr. Ntombemhlophe Brigalia Bam]

To sit beside an elder of such grace and magnitude was a heart-softening honour. And to be invited to do so by a close friend whose work and heart I deeply admire made it that much more sacred.

“On Friday evening we communed with the gods zeNgoma namaBali (music & stories) to etch our unique pattern into the quilt of time. Thank you to all that blessed us with their presence and willingness to listen and engage.” ~ @mkutaji

The soundscape that is a telling and retelling of uMakhulu’s life journey is available for listening on SoundCloud via the link in @mkutaji ‘s bio 💌.

Her Melody, Our Song
[A soundscape created by story-gatherer and archivist @mkutaji in conversation with the brilliant mind and beautiful heart of writer and social activist, Dr. Ntombemhlophe Brigalia Bam]

To sit beside an elder of such grace and magnitude was a heart-softening honour. And to be invited to do so by a close friend whose work and heart I deeply admire made it that much more sacred.

“On Friday evening we communed with the gods zeNgoma namaBali (music & stories) to etch our unique pattern into the quilt of time. Thank you to all that blessed us with their presence and willingness to listen and engage.” ~ @mkutaji

The soundscape that is a telling and retelling of uMakhulu’s life journey is available for listening on SoundCloud via the link in @mkutaji ‘s bio 💌.

Us, as human beings
Us, as feeling, seeing
Creatures of both flesh and spirit
Are terrified of time

We are afraid of losing time and we are equally afraid of using it. We spend way too much time worrying about how we don’t have enough of it but then we also wonder endlessly about if it’s truly worth it to use our time the way we truly want to.

We spend time contemplating how to live instead of actually living in the time we have been graciously borrowed.

I am reminded that in the moments that these images were taken, I was doing exactly what I wanted (and quite frankly needed) to do with “my time”.

// Circa November 2024, Bulungula (Eastern Cape)

Us, as human beings
Us, as feeling, seeing
Creatures of both flesh and spirit
Are terrified of time

We are afraid of losing time and we are equally afraid of using it. We spend way too much time worrying about how we don’t have enough of it but then we also wonder endlessly about if it’s truly worth it to use our time the way we truly want to.

We spend time contemplating how to live instead of actually living in the time we have been graciously borrowed.

I am reminded that in the moments that these images were taken, I was doing exactly what I wanted (and quite frankly needed) to do with “my time”.

// Circa November 2024, Bulungula (Eastern Cape)

Oh, what a blessing it is
To baptise oneself
In the glorious magnitude of beingness
To be drenched in the sort of sacred magic
That miracles are made of

Oh, what a blessing it is
To baptise oneself
In the glorious magnitude of beingness
To be drenched in the sort of sacred magic
That miracles are made of

Today marks 25 years of my being a human-being in this body. To honour that, I created a video that sheds light on the lessons I’ve been graced with along the way. 25 lessons that continue to hold my hand through the seemingly endless existentialism that accompanies one in their twenties.

The video can be found on my YouTube channel, linked in my bio 💌.

Today marks 25 years of my being a human-being in this body. To honour that, I created a video that sheds light on the lessons I’ve been graced with along the way. 25 lessons that continue to hold my hand through the seemingly endless existentialism that accompanies one in their twenties.

The video can be found on my YouTube channel, linked in my bio 💌.

Ukuzilanda::Ukuzilapha.

Fetching the selves, one healing breath at a time.

Ukuzilanda::Ukuzilapha.

Fetching the selves, one healing breath at a time.

A lot of the performances I’m blessed to share with fellow beings would not have been remotely possible without my personal driver, photographer, videographer, deputy sound guy and hype man — who also happens to be my younger-not-so-younger brother. The long and tight hugs before and after a show or the winks during my set as he sits in the audience are how I know that I am seen, heard and loved in my self-expression, self-confrontation and artistic channeling.

The voices you’re hearing in the song playing over this post are the voices of 3-year-old Nqobile and 6-year-old Philile, guided by the voice and musicianship of uBab’ncane wethu (our uncle).

I guess this post is a declaration of the life that extends far beyond one’s individual voice and flows deep into the aliveness that lives in one’s lineage. A declaration that the living, breathing dreams each of us have were planted in our hearts and were prayed for long before we took our first breaths.

@concord_nkabinde @nqobil.e I love you guys (slightly) more than I love Gogo’s crumb cake 💌.

A lot of the performances I’m blessed to share with fellow beings would not have been remotely possible without my personal driver, photographer, videographer, deputy sound guy and hype man — who also happens to be my younger-not-so-younger brother. The long and tight hugs before and after a show or the winks during my set as he sits in the audience are how I know that I am seen, heard and loved in my self-expression, self-confrontation and artistic channeling.

The voices you’re hearing in the song playing over this post are the voices of 3-year-old Nqobile and 6-year-old Philile, guided by the voice and musicianship of uBab’ncane wethu (our uncle).

I guess this post is a declaration of the life that extends far beyond one’s individual voice and flows deep into the aliveness that lives in one’s lineage. A declaration that the living, breathing dreams each of us have were planted in our hearts and were prayed for long before we took our first breaths.

@concord_nkabinde @nqobil.e I love you guys (slightly) more than I love Gogo’s crumb cake 💌.

What You Seek is Seeking You.

What You Seek is Seeking You.

// Home as an elemental embrace from God, not a single geographic location. //
(June, 2024)

These images are from an impromptu shoot I did with the kind and soft-spoken soul that is @ntikana.r whose brief to me was “I’d just like to capture you being you in an environment you call home.”

And so we proceeded to walk through the unassuming grasslands of Makhanda in the Eastern Cape, until we reached a body of seemingly still water. We walked and walked and paused and walked until the elements came forth to announce themselves nakedly. That’s when my bare feet knew that I had reached home.

// Home as an elemental embrace from God, not a single geographic location. //
(June, 2024)

These images are from an impromptu shoot I did with the kind and soft-spoken soul that is @ntikana.r whose brief to me was “I’d just like to capture you being you in an environment you call home.”

And so we proceeded to walk through the unassuming grasslands of Makhanda in the Eastern Cape, until we reached a body of seemingly still water. We walked and walked and paused and walked until the elements came forth to announce themselves nakedly. That’s when my bare feet knew that I had reached home.

My body belongs to this Earth
My heart and soul to the ether
In the cracks of this rebirth
dwells my sanity —
a fickle and futile creature

My body belongs to this Earth
My heart and soul to the ether
In the cracks of this rebirth
dwells my sanity —
a fickle and futile creature

Uzong’thola ng’blom’emlanjeni.

Uzong’thola ng’blom’emlanjeni.

“Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.” ~ K. Gibran, ‘The Prohphet’ (1923)

📷: @jacofourie__ & @gemmandthesea
👘: @blacksheep.za

“Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.” ~ K. Gibran, ‘The Prohphet’ (1923)

📷: @jacofourie__ & @gemmandthesea
👘: @blacksheep.za

I have come to find that freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you. What a blessing it is to be a living expression of freedom; to be a part of a cosmic collection of souls who yearn for the freedom to go wherever the heart wanders 🌱.

My love is plenty and my gratitude is thick. Thank you to the community of Tshani village and my newly found family at @mdumbi for having me and holding me ever so gently 🤍.

Siyabonga futhi siyathokoza, Mdali. Sibonga isipho sengoma 🐚.

I have come to find that freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you. What a blessing it is to be a living expression of freedom; to be a part of a cosmic collection of souls who yearn for the freedom to go wherever the heart wanders 🌱.

My love is plenty and my gratitude is thick. Thank you to the community of Tshani village and my newly found family at @mdumbi for having me and holding me ever so gently 🤍.

Siyabonga futhi siyathokoza, Mdali. Sibonga isipho sengoma 🐚.

You, wild woman, whose god-self is the ocean.
You, wild woman, whose lips set waves in motion.
You, wild woman, whose eyes hold ancient omens.

You are chosen.
Your words need not be spoken.
The All has already deemed these waters your Divine devotion.

~

🐚 An experimental visual offering 🐚
Captured by @gbi_photography
Edited by me

You, wild woman, whose god-self is the ocean.
You, wild woman, whose lips set waves in motion.
You, wild woman, whose eyes hold ancient omens.

You are chosen.
Your words need not be spoken.
The All has already deemed these waters your Divine devotion.

~

🐚 An experimental visual offering 🐚
Captured by @gbi_photography
Edited by me

Digital postcards from my newly-found home 💌

[These were taken on the Wild Coast region of the Eastern Cape (or the Transkei, as it is indigenously called). For me, the most resonant aspect of this vast and sacred land is how both Coffee Bay and Mdumbi (the two towns I’ve spent most of my time in) are both separately nestled right between a village and the ocean. I’ve gathered so many field notes on the beauty and essence of this land.]

It is well with my soul. I am feeling everything slowly and fully. Gratitude graciously abounds.

Digital postcards from my newly-found home 💌

[These were taken on the Wild Coast region of the Eastern Cape (or the Transkei, as it is indigenously called). For me, the most resonant aspect of this vast and sacred land is how both Coffee Bay and Mdumbi (the two towns I’ve spent most of my time in) are both separately nestled right between a village and the ocean. I’ve gathered so many field notes on the beauty and essence of this land.]

It is well with my soul. I am feeling everything slowly and fully. Gratitude graciously abounds.

Upon finding myself seemingly alone on the beach today, while in the company of the ocean and mountains, it became glaringly obvious that I am not alone. Never was and never will be. For loneliness is but a passing place that leads one further along their journey. Loneliness is the continuous shedding of what no longer belongs.

~

I am not lonely
Nor am I lost
This land knows me
Even when our paths have not yet crossed

Upon finding myself seemingly alone on the beach today, while in the company of the ocean and mountains, it became glaringly obvious that I am not alone. Never was and never will be. For loneliness is but a passing place that leads one further along their journey. Loneliness is the continuous shedding of what no longer belongs.

~

I am not lonely
Nor am I lost
This land knows me
Even when our paths have not yet crossed

I’ve been digging into myselves— excavating what belongs and what no longer does. I’ve been following the fresh fragrances of ancient omens that are guiding me home 🌊.

Thank you, February, for the endless sheddings 🌱. I give thanks to the various versions of self who brought me here as well as those who await me on the other side 🐚.

I’ve been digging into myselves— excavating what belongs and what no longer does. I’ve been following the fresh fragrances of ancient omens that are guiding me home 🌊.

Thank you, February, for the endless sheddings 🌱. I give thanks to the various versions of self who brought me here as well as those who await me on the other side 🐚.

And then there’s the ancient
and sentient being
that is water
drenching everything
with its beauty
Leaving no breathing room
for untruths

And then there’s the ancient
and sentient being
that is water
drenching everything
with its beauty
Leaving no breathing room
for untruths

This ongoing offering has transformed me in an intrusively beautiful way. From receiving the message from the Divine Creator, to praying for the tribe of people who would co-create with me and assist me in the production process - it’s been a rather unraveling journey for this piece to be able to spread its wings and stretch its roots into the digital realm.

My gratitude abounds and falls upon the grace that has been granted to me.

I give thanks to all who are a part of this journey (be it in the making or the receiving of the piece). You have gifted me with the precious and healing gift of being seen and held.

May this spoken word piece meet all those who are searching for the reminder to breathe blessings into their bones 💌.

~

Written by Philile Nkabinde
Composed by Concord Nkabinde (@concord_nkabinde)

Philile Nkabinde: Spoken-Word, Percussion & Vocals
Monthati Masebe (@monthati_m): Piano
Concord Nkabinde: Bass Guitar and Percussion design
Recorded, mixed and mastered at Drocnoc Music

Cover art image captured by Bronwen Trupp (@stalking_josie) and edited by Philile Nkabinde

This ongoing offering has transformed me in an intrusively beautiful way. From receiving the message from the Divine Creator, to praying for the tribe of people who would co-create with me and assist me in the production process - it’s been a rather unraveling journey for this piece to be able to spread its wings and stretch its roots into the digital realm.

My gratitude abounds and falls upon the grace that has been granted to me.

I give thanks to all who are a part of this journey (be it in the making or the receiving of the piece). You have gifted me with the precious and healing gift of being seen and held.

May this spoken word piece meet all those who are searching for the reminder to breathe blessings into their bones 💌.

~

Written by Philile Nkabinde
Composed by Concord Nkabinde (@concord_nkabinde)

Philile Nkabinde: Spoken-Word, Percussion & Vocals
Monthati Masebe (@monthati_m): Piano
Concord Nkabinde: Bass Guitar and Percussion design
Recorded, mixed and mastered at Drocnoc Music

Cover art image captured by Bronwen Trupp (@stalking_josie) and edited by Philile Nkabinde

A wise heart once said;
“Tilt your head
And see it from God’s view
Your life would be poetry
If you read it straight through”

A wise heart once said;
“Tilt your head
And see it from God’s view
Your life would be poetry
If you read it straight through”

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@philile_nkabinde

Image by Yusuf Evli

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