we are up to our ears in snow jobs

horse on fieldPhoto by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com

        An icon from folklore and an environmental menace or so the story goes concerning the brumpys that live up in our snow country.

This discussion which is on a continuous loop is really about the threat of the ‘wild’ whether that is horse rabbit blackberry dog or Women. There is an argument that the brumpys were never truly wild creatures in the first place but came to wildness thru escaping domestication, hence feral animals and as such have no rights.

     It is said  their hooves impact negatively upon the fragile soil systems of this ancient land promoting weed invasion tree death, degrading the sphagnum moss beds, reducing native vegetation and damaging the communities of reptiles mammals birds and fishes.

       Culling is one answer by shooting or trapping and named a humane slaughter. It is all about  ‘manageable proportions’. Rehoming  and moving them out of ‘sensitive areas’ is talked about. Currently Victoria plans to kill them and across the border NSW is thinking of protecting them.

       Put frankly this is  ‘a snow job.’                                                                                                                   A snow job according to the Cambridge dictionary “ is an attempt to persuade someone to do something, or to persuade someone that something is good or true, when it is not.”

       According to the Wilderness Society bulldozers clear half a million hectares of forest and bush every year in this country alone – encouraging invasive weed infestations and drier conditions, greater threat of fires, degrading the mosses creek river systems, causing soil erosion, destroying communities of reptile’s mammals birds fishes.

     This clearing also releases stored carbon into our already overloaded atmosphere. An atmosphere that now has CO2 at 400 parts per million. For this impact the bulldozer is not held responsible.

       The cow with its heavy hoofs is free to advance all over the fragile soils of our ancient land because it is domesticated and part of the primary production team.

       We are up to our ears in snow jobs. They are spun from the mouths of government and corporations holding anything ‘wild’ accountable and selling a story to confirm this idea all the while ignoring human led greed and rape of the planet . Shoot the brumby the dingo the kangaroo, poison the rabbit the blackberry the willow –domesticate and medicate the women and the children.

       Despite repeated beatings the Wild continues to Be. Inherent within the wildness is a deep connection to nature and earth and spirit. It is in the wild that our hearts breathe our minds open and our bodies relax – it is also the space where creative imaginative possibilities of living with the Earth reside.

      I am not in denial about the impact made by introduced species, merely the distortion by which it is agreed that ‘some’ of the invaders are the ones responsible and thus can be killed while we and our corporate machine world make ski resorts in the very mountains in which the wild horses run.

Much as I like to simplify I understand it is complex – we have gone so far down the rabbit hole without a ladder that we cannot climb back out.

                         And yet some humans are climbing out climbing in taking stock and creating new ways of commerce of agriculture of community of living life with rather than on planet Earth..

It is important to take the time to be energised by each other, to learn how others are managing the challenges of living life, to be inspired by creative lateral and kindly endeavours and to know that as we serve we are not alone.

for your inspiration meet the following guides ;

Charles Eisenstein – author and speaker

https://charleseisenstein.net/

Helena Norberg-Hodge – author filmmaker pioneer of the new economy movement

https://www.localfutures.org/

Muhammad Yunus – Nobel peace prize winner 2006 –pioneer of microfinance and microdebit – founder of the grameen bank

https://www.muhammadyunus.org/

Konda Mason – artist businesswoman spiritual leader – love capital

http://wholepersoneconomy.com/

nature animal fog freedom

every story is a treasure discovered

 

 

that’s the thing isn’t it we all have a story to tell…landscape sky clouds hd wallpaper

every man every child every sister,

every cloud every drop of rain

every rainbow.

 

 

so many voices speaking chirping  writing singing whistling painting twittering  sculpting warbling building growling dancing weaving croaking……

humans love to spin yarns – of conquest and war,  love and redemption, pain  suffering betrayal  loss, courage and honour.

‘other’  Beings don’t have paper or pen laptop or phone,

don’t do human speak,

and yet,  they too have a tale to tell…

 

enter the faerie embassy

narrating the stories on behalf of

…….

 

who am I  to dare this task?

 

I am earth speaker truth teller heart lover.

 

I am  wind weaving its message in the tree tops.

I am  bandicoot riffling thru the garden digging holes.

I am  wave smashing against the cliffs polishing history.

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I am  kookaburra laughing at dawn.

I am  wombat scratching my backside against the kurrajong tree.

I am  echidna sticking my nose into the ground slurping up ants.

I am  cloud scribing events in the sky.

I am  magpie in the red gum, head tilted back, warbling a melody.

 

And,

I am the voice of woman born

who stumbled into the 70’s clutching the pill,

into the 80’s holding hands with the goddess,

into the 90’s neck deep in mothering.

and into the 21st century

with a mission…

 

to Be

shallow focus of spider web

a voice for ‘other’

the spider and the web,

the wallaby and the whip bird,

the forest and the river.

 

listen

it is midwinter and a diamond python has shed its skin in the lemon verbena.

the swallows have returned, they chatter about renovations as they check out the nests high up on the mud wall outside the kitchen .

the white naped and  the yellow earred honeyeaters have also returned  coming into the tank for a quick dip and feather ruffle on nearby branch.

the grey shrike thrush has struck up its spring song – a rich varied melody flowing thru our house and garden.

the ‘thing’ that has been turning over our kitchen yard for weeks has finally been identified- not a wild pig not lyrebirds.

the other night under torchlight we saw the wombat scratching and digging up the kikuyu – is it eating the roots we wonder?

we recognise him , he is the orphan baby that came into our home to be cared for by the Daughter Elsie until at two years of age in full adolescent phase he  wandered off into the forest to have a life.

goodness she did well as mum because he is huge now and taken to very vigorous landscaping though it all looks a bit of a mess to me.

 

every story is a treasure discovered

a gift received

a commonality shared,

human  whale  rock  platypus  snake  maiden fern    robin

co existing

interconnecting

deeply  exploring the earth domain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it was a modern day loaves and fishes parable

 

…. the summer of 78/79 I returned to N. Zed. Uni was on holidays for three months so I slipped back into my childhood bedroom and took a job at the Majestic Picture Theatre in Willis Street Wellington selling movie tickets.

Superman the Movie was released in the December and I gave free tickets to Mum and Dad. Although impressed by the tour of the theatre which also doubled as a cabaret venue the movie was not their cup of tea and Dad was nudged a few times when his snores got too loud.

Over the long weekend in January 75,000 plus people flocked to Waihi on the east coast of the North Island for a three day music arts counterculture event called the Nambassa Festival.

I travelled from Wellington in a yellow Vauxhall Velox with my friend Fang, hitchikers lined the main road north and we piled three then four into the car. The roads became choked and the festival ran out of camping space. Hours and hours were spent on the side of a road miles from the festival until more paddocks were commandeered from local farmers . By the next morning police ordered the festival closed and blocked the roads 20km out but still they came. Tent cities sprung up like mushrooms along the way  and many people walked in for free. Television planes that flew over estimated closer to 150,000 .

 

       Nambassa was/ is a rainbow story blossoming under the broad umbrella of hippiedom where the ideals of peace and love were translated into many people coming together to camp play music and share their skills – from breadmaking to holistic healing, crystal therapy, circus tricks soul food, birthing, yoga, dance, leather work, pottery, baskets, and speakers on all subjects ranging from indigenous activism to a no nuclear future from politics ,religious faith, sustainable energy and everything else under the sun.

 

 

We camped on the top of bare cliffs beside the ocean – a long walk to the central market place and staging area , a steep skid down to have a swim and an hours walk back up. Not enough toilets had been built and the hessian screens blew away, not enough food had been  brought in but everyone got fed, not enough water but tankers were organised to bring more.

 

It was a modern day loaves and fishes parable

and I was there.

 

I felt something, a tangible change, a possibility fuelled by the passion of many people

making dreams come true.

I witnessed another story emerging …

and I am still there…

still activating the story line by line image by image

heart to heart…

 

 

Buddha sat under a tree and Realised. 

Jesus went into the desert and Realised .

 

We don’t need drugs or religion or leaders or laws although there can be good cause given for all or any of these tools.

What we do need is the appetite for justice integrity and grace.

Time to have our own Realisation .

No need for a tree a forest a desert or a cave,

a sincere look within and a gratitude for all that is given will go a long way towards the aha moment of who we are where we are and the role of stewardship within our hands.

 

we can place the story of respect front page,

hold the story of love in the centre and

spread  the story of kindness from our lips.

 

 

and then if we;

taste surrender

explore possibilities

give way

become more

do less

invite introspection

canvas diversity

honour pledges

counsel modesty

bridge difficulties

court love

listen deeply

intend truth

live presently

count blessings

serve humbly

 

we may remember

that

we are molecules and cells connected to each living thing,

we are as the Stars and the Sun

we are kin to Dolphins and Sea Horses, Camels and Buffalo.

we are love

and love is the glue that binds us together

and with that light we cannot fail.

 

amen