In choosing we Dream tomorrow

rising up like waves activists
press against the bastion
eroding sharp edges
flaking chipping away,
the wall remains sealed
holding tight
against the change agents.

anyone who has ever been part of a movement of protest
knows the drill,
hours days nights plans maps letters
bright ideas, fundraising
tears dramas court cases,
years flowing like the river
banks ever changing,
where once a pool now a sandbar
where once a gurgling rapid now a reedy swamp.

grey hairs threaten
exhaustion depletion anger
ptsd despair depression,
until …
run walk away give up fighting
become a baker or a plumber
retire take up gardening
drink a beer knit a blanket
.

and still after all the blood sweat and tears 
the brilliant campaigns
the lock ons tree sits marches
meetings with politicians
bumper stickers
signs of hope
minor victories
changes in legislation,
the bastion remains.
greater technology deadlier weapons,
coveting more and more Earth
a seeming impenetrable nightmare of coercion and profit.

some activists change stories
slip sideways
stop pushing against
return, reduce the scale to one life
theirs
one choice……. theirs
one hope……. theirs
and from one breeds many.

the virus teaches us this
infection spreads
ever widening its circle of influence.

a smile thrown to a crowd returns
a story spoken around breakfast whispers over social media
a piece of art, a quilt, a poem,
teases and stretches
melding into cells and blood vessels
strengthening resolve
soliciting further inquiry
enabling contagious spontaneous bursts of action
for the benefit of…
for the Whole.

2021 begins
active aware creative open hope full 
in choosing we Dream Tomorrow.

spring equinox

it doesn’t matter how it was done
what matters is how we do it now.

so many perspectives now of how we view the world –
from the air we look down onto countries cities streets homes oceans rivers valleys.
we can zoom in for detail – count the dots on a butterflies wing or out for long views of lava spilling over mountain sides.
from the ocean we look back towards land – the curve of a coastline –
shapes folds harbours river mouths and hills.
and space shows a spinning blue orb .
our capacity to see our world keeps changing
and so too our view of our Selves.

What can we learn from this ability ?
that there is always another angle another glimpse another possibility.
no matter how we peer into the minutiae we cannot ever see the entirety,
no matter the video cam on the spotted owl or the tracker on the koala there will always be more we do not know than what we think we know.
some call this The Mystery.

How are you doing with this covid dance a la 2020?
protests pop up in places
masks mandatory or not
tests and statistics define our mornings
harried health professionals frowning
conspiracies too numerous to elaborate on
everyone has an opinion.

is it a wake up call?
an alarm?
a death sentence?
is it a hollywood movie and we actors with the script already written?

Spring equinox :
dear friends visit and the young king turns ten.
the family gathers to wander the damp trails of a wetland, stop for a picnic and kick a ball .Ten years old he grows lean and and tall, keenly interested in nature . The next generation of grandbabies are all girls- squealing laughing playing hard.

The season is warm and rain has been friendlier.
The forest a sea of dead black trees with life burgeoning up trunks and on limbs of some.
I can still see through it-  the far hills of the valley plainly visible, so too the cows in the neighbouring paddocks – all this was once obscured by a rich understory.
The casurinas and bush cherry start their growth cycle from the beginning.
I understand that I will be compost before I see them again in their full glory.

Whales play along the coastline
unaware of masks and restrictions on land
mindful of plastics hooks lines and sounds that shatter their sense of direction.

Drones take over the skies
spying out newsworthy stories
owning our privacy,
everyone needs to know
social media determines the value.

In this neck of the universe we hug
cry and hold each other,
united in our grief for all that we have lost
bonded in our gratitude for what we still have-
companionship generosity and loving-kindness.

My friend picks up a vacuum cleaner from the relief centre
a donation
her house home beautiful garden is gone
her ancestor’s keepsakes photographs and kitchen utensils.
remarkably she is cheerful and pragmatic,
with her husband they are building again
slowly.

The bushfire inquiries release their findings
burn burn burn,
more burning they say
not less, not never again.
as if this will help
as if this force of nature can be deployed in this manner and we not get burnt
as if any of the forces of nature – air water earth coal uranium can be contained and not come back to bite us.

What message this equinox my friends?
What can we glean from the bones of fires death and virus?
What do all these things have in common?

Now there’s a thread to follow – like Alice down the rabbit hole
into the hallucinogenic world of talking caterpillars smoking pipes –
we can be big and we can be small.


I have taken up visible mending – worn to be seen -to be noticed
a stitch in time they say,
this is the time for that seed to be ignited –
weaving our beauty love compassion strength integrity
into tomorrow – starting today-
this equinox when light balances dark
we can mend something
a hole in a sock, a loss in our neighbourhood,
a friendship, a garden,a path,a fence,a picture,
we are menders fixers creators visionaries.
lets not wait for tomorrow
mend something today.

*******

roll out the pipe dream

 

ball ball shaped color earth

Restrictions are easing and people cheer for these small mercies
forgetting they are sovereign Beings enacting a sacred life on a sovereign planet.

I started to tell a story about the state of forests four months after The Fire raged through almost the entire east coast of Australia.

In this story I was going to tell there featured an arch villain Eden Woodchip Mill not only continuing operations but with plans to make briquettes from burnt trees for export. And then a lament of how desecrated the forests are in the south east corner where I live, desecrated by management that in serving a chipmill clearfells and control burns on a regular basis. I finish this story with a heartfelt regret about how some of these ransacked forests will never recover,  and then,  I caught myself.

So off in the tired old story I almost believed it. So off in a mechanistic logical rational equation forgetting the true potentiality within and without.

If we acknowledge that humans are multi-dimensional Beings who can Sing Pray and Heal then the truth becomes that we can do/be anything.  We have little idea of all that we capable of. We  know we are able to pollute our entire nest, split the atom, splice DNA, rob aquifers, exterminate species, fire missiles and pretend that capitalism is a valid role model.

Also aware that we have a capacity for kindness compassion forgiveness nurturing families communities while living respectfully lovingly with the Planet.

So kinda like jekyll and hyde characters. On the one hand our bodies hearts minds can be inveigled into serving the machine, the machine seemingly intent on our self destruction certainly our planetary base Or, we can surrender and perhaps in this discover an innate divine nature with inherent inner wisdom. In this state the resonance of the heart of Earth / Universe, the Great Spirit leads us to the possibility that we can walk in balance with the totality of existence, the dreaming of oneness, in love with creating Beauty for All Beings.

This path does not require religion faith or servitude.
It does require sacrifice truth and integrity.
I am one and I am many.
Like the neighbour, the senator the plumber.

The end game, my friend Heidi says, is here.
She’s right. It is the end for despair, bad deeds, subjugation and greed.
Even though many pointers channel us relentlessly in this direction.
The end of excess. The end for coal gas fracking, bio weapons, nuclear missiles, drone strikes and hatred. The end of all the dirty putrid ways. The end of indulgent mindless behaviours.

The abscess (from latin abscessus ‘a going away’ )  has been lanced, it oozes unpleasantly painfully and with a certain amount of relief that at long last all that is wrong is being exposed.  Many keep grasping onto what was, spin the story  and apply band aids .

For others this has become a time of revelation renewal and reflection.  A time of deep immersion in the Songs of Earth …Wind … Bird … Ocean … Whale … Rock… and Spirit. Tuning in to a higher frequency in which time and space merge into a oneness of loving attention, stillness solace nurturance and joy.

A pipe dream, a fantasy, a wish. I dare Us to hold this pipe dream, to wish, fantasize and activate another mode of living.

I dare us to not restart the old but chart another path through the rubble, the restrictions controls vanities addictions of yesterday into the Present unencumbered with all that seeks to destroy our beautiful planet home.

When faced with a pandemic we have proved that we can shut the world down. We have proved that when faced with difficulties we are creative and caring, that we can live without so much that was thought to be necessary.

What do you reckon?……. roll out the pipe dream…  nothing to loose.  Sing  it into existence into our gardens our grandchildren into the molecules of  land and sky.  Take a journey into the amazing cosmological evolutionary story that brought us to this moment and realise that as co creators we are part of the next chapter …

In honour of Murray Richmond Taylor who loved the trees the wind riffling in them the birds skipping around the yard; who loved the idea of a world without war and violence hunger and pain, who loved our long rambling phone conversations about how to ‘fix’ the world.   Father dearly loved and missed.