Life on the Edge

Two days ago I had written to a friend: "Just came out of the water. Love being constantly humbled by the waves, constantly being thrilled. I will sorely miss this human existence." Little did I expect that this human existence could have ended earlier than planned as today the surf got me. I was definitely humbled, but the thrill wasn't there. Close call.

There were no decent breaks happening; mostly dumpers across the width of the beach. I thought that if I could get out past the breakers, I just might catch the odd good one. Getting there proved hard. A good rip got me out most of the way, but it then disappeared, leaving me to negotiate how best to get past the bigger breakers a little further out. A lack of luck meant that a large set rolled in before I was able to do this. The first wave broke just in front of me. Not something desirable, but easy enough to duck dive under and roll with the force of the churning water. Hold the breath until the wave passes, regain the surface, grab hold of the body board again and resume swimming. Within seconds the second wave broke. Also in front of me. Curse my luck to be in such a bad spot. Hold the breath again. Get tumbled. Feel the immense tug of the body board strapped onto my elbow as the wave tries to snap it off. Find my way to the surface. Grab a breath and summon the energy to make it up and over the third wave before it breaks. Didn't quite make it. Was at the very top when it spilled me over backwards causing me to fall upside down about eight feet crashing simultaneously on my body board as the waves full ferocious weight hit. I felt my left leg twist in a way that it normally wouldn't. If this wasn't bad enough, while still being tumbled I realised that the cord holding the body board to my right elbow was knotted tightly around my waist and my left leg making it impossible to disengage myself quickly in order to get to the surface before the next wave came through. I don't normally swear, but in this instance I thought: "Fuck me. This is serious". The waves were breaking about ten to twelve seconds apart. Usually enough time to get through a wave, regain one's composure and decide the next move. After about ten seconds and still under water (the breaking wave had moved past, but I was still fumbling with the cord wrapped around me), I began to worry that if the next wave were to break on me before I had a chance to get to the surface and get some air, the situation could deteriorate. Worse yet, I didn't want it to break just as I broke to the surface. The blessing of the day was that there were no more breaking waves. The third one was the last one of this particular set and I was able to free myself after about fifteen seconds and come up to a sea that was, thankfully, relatively quiet.

My knee hurts tonight as I write this blog, but I'll "live" with this pain. And tomorrow I'll hobble on down to the beach yet again.

Helen Gee (Tasmania, Australia) Wendell Berry (Kentucky, USA) Satish Kumar (England) Margaret Scott (Tasmania, Australia) Phillip Adams (NSW, Australia) Beverly Reeler (Zimbabwe) Mary Oliver (Massachusetts, USA) Pete Hay (Tasmania, Australia) It gives me great pleasure in announcing the above people as the Windgrove Laureates for 2005; people I personally feel have remained vigilant in their efforts to enlarge the public’s appreciation and understanding of the many social and environmental issues confronting the world today.

On Monday, the four Australian "ambassadors for peace" gathered for a media presentation where I presented each of them with their individual component of the mandala. (In the photo, I am on the left followed by Phillip, Helen, Pete and Margaret.) Certainly, each of the eight laureates could win the award because of the number of books published, committees chaired, length of service over the years to the peace movement or their continual dedication to environmental and social concerns. Just as important in the selection process, however, is that each of these people is just plain "decent". Their compassion and humility for their fellow humans and the earth's flora and fauna is present with them always. I want to honour this constant humility as much as their courage to continually walk the path of peace. They are the elders this world so desperately needs. They are the role models our youth should emulate. Interestingly enough, Helen Gee (along with 16 other people and three environmental organisations) is currently being sued by a large timber company, Gunns, for what they call the vilification of their good name and loss of profit because of Helen's (and the other's) environmental activism.

Windgrove Peace Mandala The Windgrove Peace Mandala is a small tabletop sculpture comprised of nine blocks of wood. Carved and nestled into each block is a rounded beach stone. Each of these blocks, as is each recipient of the award, is uniquely beautiful and important in their own right. But, it is only when the blocks come together that the mandala itself becomes visible. This connectedness is vital. Together we will create peace. In the slow making of the mandala, the thought that these stones were full of ancient time and wisdom was meditated upon. Instead of throwing stones at each other, would it not be better if we could consider them as sacred icons of our past and to see them as a visual, felt link to a collective distant story out of which all of us, all living beings emerged. Cup a smooth stone in the palm of your hand. Feel its weight. Listen to its story, its unique journey across thousands of years. Whether as a group of nine blocks, or just singly, these little stone/peace altars are about “teaching” us how to “transform” our lives so that we might choose to move along the path of peace instead of war. It is about extended time, the “long now”, respecting our elders, listening to the past, loving the earth with its diversity of species, and, being passionate about all of life so that there will be a worthy future. The distribution of eight of these stones out into the world, and keeping the central stone/heart stone at Windgrove as a hub, is an attempt figuratively, perhaps literally, enlarge the mandala’s energetic field to encompass the whole of the world. The task of moving out beyond the safety of “home” in the pursuit of peace is challenging and cannot be done alone. A web of mutual love and support makes being a peace keeper more of a sustainable proposition. May this global Windgrove Peace Mandala help in some small way to hold the peace process and all of us together

Even on an overcast day, like today, there is beauty to be found. I don't know why, but every time I stoop low to walk through this green tunnel on the way to the beach, I smile. Something about "becoming again as a child" perhaps. Or, just a smug satisfaction knowing that the shape has grown from nothing to this present form over the past twelve years due to patient pruning on my part. Comprised mainly of coastal wattle, this leafy gateway is both an entrance and an exit. Upon leaving the house, it symbolises a chance to keep behind my studio and other "work" and head freely to the cleansing surf. Upon leaving the beach and its wildness, then walking beneath the arched shadows that brush against wet skin, I enter back into the safety of home; into the warm confines of a warm refuge more intimate and close than what is on the other side of the tunnel. There is also a tiny sense of being "rebirthed"; a chance to change my mood if I choose. I carry from the house anger, sadness, joy or elation. This portal allows an opportunity to drop the emotion or carry it on. More often than not, the physical act of lowering myself has a humbling effect on my being. In such a short distance of a few feet, a sense of tolerance to the issues of the day drop onto and into me. I'm forced to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There's no denying it. Its always there. Present. Everyday. How lucky can one get?

The first day of the New Year, 2005. May love fall upon everyone. May the fear in our hearts lessen. May the grief still present in those people who have loss children, partners, parents and friends during the past year diminish enough to allow them to enter peacefully into this new year. There is still much beauty available to all of us. Our yearning for love; our desire to be loved is an affirmation of the goodness of our past loves. The potential of this new year is vast. I am excited. And, who knows the form love will take when it walks into our life again?

At the beach yesterday, I built an arch of stones. (Dear reader, it's the stones I want you to look at!) Earlier, having been preoccupied with the news of the ever increasing number of people killed during the Indian Ocean tsunami, and, being restless, I started to pile stones together to settle the dark rumblings within my heart and mind. Looking at the finished arch with its keystone firmly wedged into place between the thirty stones, a small awareness, a bit of wisdom emerged. Sometimes I feel that the financial, social, emotional and artistic pressures in my life are too much to bear at times; that I am at the breaking point more often than not and want to ease the burden, the weight on my shoulders and heart so to speak. Looking at these stones, however, one cannot but begin to recognise a simple truth: that their ability to gracefully curve; their ability to hang delicately in space, is the result of pressure. Without the weight of the keystone pushing down relentlessly onto the other stones, all would collapse into a pile of little value. There is a purpose in this pressure. It is not my, or anyone's, role to totally rid oneself of life's pressures because that is to deny the role life has in shaping us; in developing our character. Living a life "totally" free of burden would be a life too light, too carefree. There would be nothing to give it shape and help hold it together. A priest was once given the opportunity to slay the devil and free the world of the devil's darkness and influences. But in the end, the priest let him free because he knew that the devil served a purpose in making us compassionate, tolerant and, ultimately, more loving. The key is to harness the forces of life, both light and dark, and use them in ways that sustain our lives and open us up into expressions of grace and strength. Then, and only then, will beauty walk beneath our arching, slightly aching outstretched arms, through and into a more real embrace.