…standing at the pearly gates..

what are WE in the business of as planetary Beings ?

some people have a mission, a divine purpose, a calling, a particular yen for something that no matter how far away they travel from ground zero they are brought back face to face with what is theirs to do.

is this You?

can you recognise your hearts yearning

your embodiments lessons

your creative muse crooning under the hum of the white noise?

my mission is stated here : https://faeriembassy.wordpress.com/about/

 is this something I have made up to make myself important, inflate my ego, some sort of  delusional pretence?

only my Heart and the Divine can truly know the answer to this.

 lets say I’m living in ‘la la land’, a rosy petalled state of warriors and hearts with swords of truth writing to bring about justice and respect …

is this a fantasy?

how about this one then?

…standing at the pearly gates passport ready to launch down to planet Earth, to mother father, to village or city. A bit nervous because they tell you the spirit of oneness will be forgotten and it’s your job to remember. 

 who could possibly ever forget this Magnificence this Totality of Beingness ,this Truth?

before you go some last minute instructions:

 when you get there you must take a breath and keep breathing for all the days of your allotted time on Earth.

you survive by applying food and water to the Bodyhouse given to you.

there will be twists turns tangents and contradictions .

 Earth will share plenty of strange things, many wonders, countless horrors. 

Keep in mind that everything/ everyone is an aspect of  the Great Omnipresent Divinity.

 

 and then you arrive, the passport passes along the umbilical cord transmitted deep into the cells of your body and you wake into harsh light bustle beeps and shrieks, the air cuts you like a knife , the sounds wound your hearing , the world is hazy and confusing and already you don’t like it much. where is the Source now you wonder?

 as you grow up things happen, violence war pain and suffering, somehow it all seems wrong as if the world is divided into good and evil. In those dark and difficult times the light of the Divine holds steady but your gaze is elsewhere.

 you realise the Body likes food likes sex likes clothes likes facebook ..likes..  you enjoy basketball kayaking making money ,there are amazing things going on so you buckle up and accept the ride. 

 you keep breathing until you can’t any longer and one day you find your Self at the pearly gates again passport ready detailing the acts of a life lived.

if you had tear ducts you would weep for here the oneness is as it always is 

what is our job description here on planet Earth?

breathe eat sleep make love make happiness make generosity make kindness

make it up as you go along

but do your Best

as best as you can Be.

pouring gratitude onto the Ground you walk

into the Air you breathe

through the Water you drink.

and one day the heart awakens and you see Turtle crossing the road and it is you carrying your house around.

one day on the way to work you notice nest-building by the Swallows under the bridge and you know this is you building a future for your family.

one day you plant a seed – tomato  lettuce  zucchini. the  fruits are shared with your neighbour and in return they give sauerkraut. you recognise that despite the differences community is enacted.

if you could be anything in the whole wide world what would you Be?

I hope you can say that it is You now

that You are being your True Self.

breath by breath

day by day

we learn our role

we learn what is ours to do.

 

blessings

sandRa

 

 

 

 

because we can

the phone rings ,it is Michael.

do I have five minutes for a survey?

um ok. I’ll give it a go.

it is about politics –

which party do I prefer?

the Greens and that is the last time I can offer them as an answer.

who has the best policy on the economy , health, housing , education etc??

I have two choices.

labour or liberal.

I don’t like either and fail to see much of a difference.

Michael explains I have to choose one of them for the purposes of this survey.

and this where we go down the rabbit hole folks

you have a choice but it is the choice given you

not yours

you can have chocolate or vanilla 

which one?

caramel is not on the list.

chocolate or vanilla

dangled in front of us is a world of ‘free choice’ and because we can change channels we believe this is so.

this is so only within certain parameters .

how can I play when the playing field is rigged 

with mindfulness by  becoming  Present and getting creative.

I chose to play that day with Michael

adding my views ideas and wishes to each question asked,

after all, it was being recorded.

Michael was very patient with my raves and along the way we developed a bond,

at one point he giggles

oh I bet you aren’t allowed to do that

no, he says I’m not.

tell me my friend

did you have a choice about sending your child to school

about the hours of the day in the classroom

about the curriculum?

did you have any say about the incipient spread of plastic packaging in our food markets?

or the sheer volume of poisons being used on your food?

or whether you vaccinate your child or not?

or how often your government makes war on another country and its peoples?

Michael thanks me, suggests his supervisor may contact me and ta ta.

the survey did not want my views,  the data collected will simply reinforce existing policies but I chose to  speak from my Heart.

and so we ask ourselves

how can we choose caramel when it is not on the menu.

because we can

because in every single moment of our lives we can choose even when the stakes are raised and there appears to be no choice and even though we know it is rigged .

in the time leading up to the invasion of Iraq the people took to the streets to say No No No to our government.

I learnt a simple thing then,

I learnt the power to accept I had no choice and the power to choose –

I could say ” you do not do this in my name.” 

so  despite knowing we cannot choose caramel we can

creatively choose to make our mark,

take a stand, to in our very humble and polite way choose to live a life examined,

a life creative,a life of courage refusing the status quo of inequity,

a life of strength to call out the bullying tactics and

a life of humour directed at the foibles of humanity exploring it Self.

before I go I tell you this 

I apologise not

for bending your ear

tugging at your heartstrings

and singing to your spirit.

the wisteria is in full glorious openhearted petalness

surrendering to the probe and suck of the bees,

the hum is loud bending the fragrance thru the house.

the sky is sharp today , a clear precise no questions asked blue

the sun a summer warmth,

everywhere in the forest nature is surrendering to the longer days

to the warmer hours

to the recent rainfall

to gestation and fertilisation.

nature beckons 

and to her we give thanks.

and to you all 

blessings 

xxx

 

 

 

…the forest is still singing its song

having just flung the tea leaves off the verandah eyed the dark clouds registered the increased tempo of the wind and returned to the kitchen sink, I wonder if it will rain this time.

I gaze back into the yard and am struck by this surety I carry around that sooner or later this dry will give way to rain and back to abundance.

I realise that I still expect spring to follow winter to follow autumn to follow summer .I expect heat to give way to cold for wet to give way to dry , for all things to have their turn in the manner to which I am accustomed. And yet I am aware of fluctuations anomalies and records being broken again and again.

It shocks me that I hold this assumption, that it will keep rolling on as beautifully as it currently does because for all the cry of drought here in this land the forest is still singing its song.

Do I really think that the earth changes that climate scientists are discussing, the modelling they are demonstrating, the graphs and equations that appear in reports is going to happen somewhere else to someone else?

am I prepared for change and what on earth will it look like ???

A fire has been burning out of control in the hills near us since winter . A farmer was burning a heap and it ‘got away’ . It is still ‘away’ though being managed  by local fire brigades and their practice of back burning. living in a pall of smoke while listening to them tell me that over 15,000 hectares has burnt so far has become our new norm. that’s a lot of trees plants insects birds wallabies wombats echidnas possums goannas lizards – that’s a whole lot of life.

here the tall gums are flowering , the bees are busy and the forest is flourishing. out in the paddock world it is dry brown and harsh. monoculture does not serve the land well and this is a lesson that farmers would do well to learn.

the migratory birds are returning and setting up base . it is all a Song from dawn to dusk, a rich sweet melody of food and nesting, birth and family.

the red belly black snake that lives under the kitchen verandah is getting big and with a respectful dance we are sharing the space well. the frogs are occasionally being heard , the turtles have been spotted basking on the log in the dam which is getting lower day by day.

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this beautiful flowering shrub is a callistemon. planted 20 years ago it occupies a huge space at the corner of our house. graciously it is feeding a dozen or so  wattlebirds and any number of honeyeaters .we are woken at dawn to a ruckus involving the weave and spill of bird and branch , of bully and balance as they all vie for the sweet nectar .

down from the tropical climes the stormbird has come   – this channel billed cuckoo turns up in spring to breed in this forest or should I say lay its egg in a nest.

the male bird scruffles around screeching close to the target host, either magpie currawong raven or butcher bird, and when they give chase as they do after a while because the screeching is really annoying, the female takes the opportunity to jump into the nest and leave an egg. kudos to the hosts – they take it on and feed the young cuckoo as one of their own.

this year the swallows are late to refurbish their nest , equinox is here and usually that is when the young ones emerge  –instead they are still fussing on nest detail .

the clouds have passed the wind has dropped and the sky is clear blue again.

if there is anything to be learnt from the weather it is that we are entwined one with each other.

our emotions ideas patterns and stories are shaped by the seasons much as the cliffs are worn by the ocean. the seasons are shaped by the elementals, the spin of the planets and the Spirit of all things.

thru recognising this relationship an honouring and respect of Nature is engendered.

we can build a bridge from our hearts to the heart of the universe, from your heart to eartheart .

we are indeed one with the elemental community of Air  Water  Fire  Earth and Spirit.

 

love sandra

x

 

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

 

 

 

..and around the wheel we go..

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I miss a beat

tis true

often

sometimes,

regularly irregularly

I forget.

I forget that I know

and then I remember and wonder how it is that I have forgotten.

 

those flashes of revelation, aaahaa moments when we understand something about our nature our behaviour,

about life and eternal truths,

and then I forget,

and around the wheel we go

once again.

 

it is more than likely I am a slow learner

that I suffer from thick walls of resistance avoidance and pig-headed stubbornness,

which I like to think is tempered by a sense of awe, of inquiry and a whole-hearted love of it all….

but then again is this enough?

 
I fiddle with  the eternity ring on my finger

it belonged to my mother now gone this ten or more years.

in some ways she is closer to me now then when she lived across the ditch.

there is much to learn from my mother.

the truths she hid and  the lies she told to hide the truths.

 

I yearned for her to know me on my terms, to embrace this runaway errant black sheep of a daughter who fled the stultifying suburban 60’s and marched headstrong into the 70’s wearing peasant blouses and mary quant makeup living in group houses with colourful politically passionate people, who had a child out-of-wedlock and then gave him away, who persisted with her life on her terms despite the obvious disapproval, the cold shoulders, the long pinched lip frowns and the sad shakes of the head.

 

carrying my backpack full of guilt and shame staying on the outside and not wanting  to return,

and yet all these mistakes blunders passion for another way of viewing/living the world

led me to this moment…

 

when the magpie lifts its voice into the cold frosty morning

when the sun shines feebly  on a winter’s day and when the street is quiet about its Sunday and smoke steams gently from chimneys.

the galahs are screeching and the currawongs are invoking their melodic ‘curra… wong’.. song.

the sky is blue and clear

the air is iced and not a breath of wind stirs the trees standing naked in the gardens.

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is this enough?

to be Present

to really come into mySelf holding all the blames shames guilts passions mistakes joys and wonders,

free wheeling past all these weights upon my person

and spinning beyond all these responsibilities

into the Presence of Now,

taking the moment to breathe.

 

 

from outside come the sounds of

birds, the odd rev of an engine , a motorbike accelerating up the highway, a neighbours voice,

white rimed frost is sticking fast to the shady spots

while indoors the fridge is doing its bid for global warming

and fingers are tapping out this rhythm,

on the table yellow roses open to me and the white ones drop their petals.

 

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enough is about reflecting and honouring all the threads that come together to make this snapshot.

about Presence

about returning home to oneSelf

acknowledging the truth of privilege

and allowing gratitude to reign.

it is about accessing alignment and balance so that the truth of the stories we tell – those that paint us beautifully and those that cast a grubby shadow – are not caricatures but snippets of lessons learned and inspirations offered.

 

enough is about staring down the rabbit hole of our selfishness

and owning –

yes, that is me.

I am all of that

I am all of you

I am the flaws the fears and the blunders

I am the laugh crying and the peace yielding.

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one day I will return home to my mother not as the runaway who rejected all she held dear but as daughterspiritwoman who had a mission, who chose to forget so she could remember so she could learn humility and acceptance, compassion and selflessness and bring these gifts back to the table of humanity.  

 

may this journey open our higher selves to the different ways and beliefs of others so that we may honour them.

amen