One thing about my life – it’s never dull. This morning the lawnmower man discovered a tombstone in my backyard.
Backyard Tombstone
No kidding. It was hidden behind a tree, in a patch of grass that is not normally mown. I haven’t yet managed to speak to the owner of the house to find out the full story. In the meantime, I did what any person in the 21st century would do when they want to know something – I googled it. And discovered this:
Hoping to Live, Preparing to Die
Alia Kazan
High up here in my oak tree. Strong. Solid. So unlike me at this time… so small and frail… here in my sacred place I am nestled in giant branches. Held… like I am never held by anyone. High above them all, I am safe, without a care in the world… except perhaps I wish mom and I saw eye-to-eye more often. But here I am with my reverie. Free to dream and plan the life that lies ahead… the children I’ll have, and how happy I’ll be, and of course how healthy.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then flipping through the above album will be equivalent of reading a 57,000 narrative on the recent road trip I just completed with two friends. It was an epic journey of 10,500 kms (6500 miles), from Mullumbimby, NSW to Uluru, NT, up to far North Queensland to see the Daintree Rainforest and back again, conquered in the short time frame of just a month. We set up and packed up our campsite nearly every night, stopping only occasionally for longer than a night to catch our breath and luxuriate in the bliss of not having to roll that bloody camping mattress up AGAIN (self-inflating foam = extremely comfortable but is also a big pain in the arse to fit back in the miniature bag that it comes with).
We didn’t really plan for our trip. It was a spontaneous decision to take Charish (USA) around the country before she headed home, accompanying us was Scotti (NZ) to help with the driving and do the “boy things” that are required on any outback road trip (such as hammering tent pegs into hard clay – thanks Scotti!). My friend Steph had done the journey a few months before us, and handed us all we needed (camping/rest area “bible” that listed all free campsites in Oz, tent, camping stove, cookware). What else did we need other than a fierce determination not to let the desert get the better of us!
Enjoy the pics – the best way to encapsulate the unique journey just experienced
This day, 40 years ago, marks the last day of one of the momentous occasions in our modern history. An occasion that saw the largest gathering of human beings in one place. Approximately 500,000 people descended upon a small farm in New York State in 1969, to hang with friends and listen to some tunes. We could ponder whether they knew they were collectively contributing to a new beginning for humanity. I like to think that deep down they knew the magnitude of their triumph.
By today’s standards, Woodstock 69 was organised by four kids – their average age just 25 years old. They expected 60,000 to attend and got half a million. Despite having little of the resources to cope with the city that unexpectedly sprung forth, somehow they managed to steer the concert through the Three Day Peace and Music Festival. The place was declared a natural disaster zone, with emergency food helicoptered in and local charities making it their mission to feed the masses. It rained heavily, and there was one porta-loo (that’s portable toilet for all those that aren’t Aussies!) for every 833 festival goer. All of this, and only 3 people died…none of which were the direct actions of another being. They proved to the world that it was possible for that many people to co-exist in harmony no matter what circumstances they were faced with. Collectively, they supported, loved, hugged and danced their way through the experience.
I wonder how they might be feeling these days, as they watch the very foundation of all that they were rebelling against, start to crumble. It’s been a long road, but four decades down the track, they are witnessing the revolution in our world that I am sure their hearts were crying out for back then. Corporate and political systems of greed and intolerance and inequity are buckling under the weight of their own irrepressible injustice. Economic, environmental, social systems are all under pressure. Things are shifting in our world. The old unsustainable ways are breaking down, to make room for new ways to emerge. New ways of doing, being and relating with one another that have mutual respect and love at their core. The same mutual respect and love that this unique group of special individuals displayed to the whole world back in the infamous year of 1969.
At the depth of my being I am filled with an immense gratitude for this moment in time, for all that it represents as we continue to create a world of love and peace.
Something strange is happening to me. It first started when I heard someone refer to themselves as a “recovering perfectionist”. Wow, I thought. I’d love to be able to say that about myself one day. Then the other week, when someone was going to stay at my house for a weekend getaway while I was taking off, I didn’t vacuum before their arrival. Then last Friday, I didn’t clean the kitchen before a new friend arrived to my house. Now I find myself going to bed without having done the dishes, with crumbs left on the bench. It will stay like this until I wake up in the morning. Seriously, it’s all getting a little crazy if you ask me. But it’s making me wonder…perhaps I am recovering!?!
