…. 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