Life on the Edge

As a boy, I was told: "It is better to give than to receive". This, hopefully, was to move my young, egocentric, acquisitive behavioural patterns into a more generous and compassionate way of being. The hidden message, though, in "better to give, than receive" is that it sets up receiving as the inferior of giving. And, with all the other complex shadows that hide within one's psyche, this can compound into a feeling that something is not quite right in the taking. Might it be more instructive to say: "Giving and receiving are both acts of love". And that each should be practised with copious amounts of attention.

The above small sculpture, "Five Ancestral Stones", is being donated to an art auction to raise money for the Tasmanian Greens. I first carved it last September and then left it outside to weather for eight months before spending another week reworking it. All up, a good two weeks of patient effort. Here is one small example of expressing a deep appreciation to a political party that represents such inspired integrity and hope for the earth and humanity.

The white truck parked behind my friend, Mische Marion, has served me well, but with 350,000 kilometres, is nearing retirement and I have only been driving it because I do not have the means to get a better vehicle. In front of Mische, however, all grey and beautiful like the Ancestral Stones, is the Subaru that she has recently given to me out of her love for Windgrove and its visions for peace. A great gift. And, I love receiving it. This reciprocal give and take; these circular dances of exchange; this breathing in and out of beautiful acts...... ....... are they not wondrous?

7 AM. Dawn. As the sun edged its way up over the horizon, a squall moved in from the west. From my vantage point at the Peace Fire, I could see a rainbow at the leading edge of the storm make its way across Storm Bay. What a stunning and joyful beginning to this day. This morning's normal round of prayers for the earth, humanity and my own personal problems, became edged with an excited hope full of potential goodness and loving kindness for all. Walking back to the Peace Spiral I was able to photograph a double rainbow just seconds before a golden shower of rain descended upon my head.

Half dancing, a touch euphoric, I bounced back to the house for an extra delicious breakfast of a Windgrove sized coffee and four large slices of sprouted rye toast spread with three types of jam. My mood remained buoyant from having seen the double rainbow. Wanting to get into my studio to continual sanding a small boat sculpture, I quickly downloaded my e-mails and took a look at the online morning news. My mood was no longer buoyant. Talk about spoiling a wet dream. This is what I read: "......Operation Rainbow. Israel's latest military offensive at Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip. At least 12 demonstrators were killed and dozens wounded when missiles were fired into a crowd of civilians in an attempt to ward off more than 1,000 demonstrators approaching Israeli forces......." How dare the military use "rainbow" in an operation of wilful violence and death. How dare any government take a universal symbol of peace and harmony and bastardise it by association with war. Government spin doctors might scream back, "Rainbow Warrior", but Greenpeace is about civil disobedience, not bloodshed. The Rainbow Coalition and other peace groups have always used the rainbow as a symbol of racial and religious tolerance. Perhaps Israel's political and military planners should use the slogan: Destroy the Rainbow. Because that is what they are doing.

Our town planner has just quit in disgust because nearly every recommendation she has made to the local council on appropriate development has been overturned. Our state government is secretly and openly giving away land zoned "coastal conservation" or within national parks over to developers. Instead of adequately funding our public hospitals, they have just given three million dollars to private developers to build a motor car raceway. Our federal government has taken away all research money into renewable energy; instead, purchasing four hundred million dollars worth of 15 year old used tanks from America (about 50). Shall I examine the global picture? So....... from whence comes the motivation to keep plugging away at the maintenance and further creation of the Windgrove Peace Centre; choosing/forced to live in basic poverty while continually putting every dollar earned or donated into its establishment? Why don't I just sell this valuable beach front property, take the cash and enjoy a leisurely retirement befitting a person at the head of the "baby boomers" (born 1946)? And don't think I haven't thought about it. In many ways, it would take a lot of the emotional and physical pressure off of me; allowing an opportunity to just sit quietly somewhere and carve, do yoga retreats and sip cafe lattes in town squares while perfecting my "inner being". Possibly another stint in the Peace Corps like I did in 1969/1970 in Korea. The answer is to be found in: "the potential of service to the earth and humanity". If I can hang in here long enough; if Windgrove can get firmly established as a refuge for ecology and art, as a place of dialogue with nature on community, peace and healing..... then all the present trauma associated with an empty stomach and worn out clothes will seem insignificant. I am more than willing to dig ditches for three months to install a water system, not for my simple needs, but for the Centre's future needs. But I can only do so much and I do tire. The Peace Fire is important. The Peace Garden is important. The Peace Path is important. The Refugee-in-Residence program is important. And why? Because of our children.

Like Heather Rose and Sophie, pictured above. They, and three other children were at Windgrove this past weekend and all partook in the spirit that resides here. Kate, Brook and Sophie sat around the Peace Fire on Saturday night and experienced a view of the world that can counter the images they have seen of war prisoners. They heard adults talking of peace not hatred. They felt the warmth of an eternal flame dedicated to world peace and attended to daily for over two years. On Sunday, in the nurturing atmosphere of Windgrove, Heather Rose constructed this small altar for "earth's beauty". I can cry when I see such hopeful examples of how we might exist in this world if the conditions were right for their blossoming. May these children grow into adulthood full compassion and love for all. May today's adults do all they can to instil a sense of awe, sacredness, wonderment and beauty into the hearts of every child upon this planet. And so I plug on. Any help received will be gratefully appreciated.

Why I Wake Early Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who make the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories, and into the windows of, even, the miserable and the crotchety --- best preacher that ever was, dear star, that just happens to be where you are in the universe to keep us from ever-darkness, to ease us with warm touching, to hold us in the great hands of light --- good morning, good morning, good morning. Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness. ******************* This early morning, before the storm clouds swept in from the west, I was able to witness the eclipsed orange moon hang tenderly in the diminishing starry sky; its coloured beauty totally dependent upon the very sun that Mary Oliver so eloquently writes about in the above, newly released poem (received in yesterday's mail). And, although my little camera wasn't able to catch this particular wonder, the same light powering the moon's beauty, was as piercingly beautiful bouncing off the cliffs of Roaring Beach.

The squall has passed and I now sit in the far corner reading more of Mary's poems, letting the sun stream into the house and touch me also with its healing light; letting me, once again, start the day in happiness, in kindness.