Life on the Edge

Oh, the gifts that flow into one’s life daily, if not hourly.

Looking down upon a group of school children from atop a tall grassed over dune yesterday, I couldn’t help but feel lucky. The sun was fully present, there was a gentle off shore breeze and the temperature mild. A perfect gift from nature. And, not just for me because, even though the students might not be totally aware of the gift their teachers and the day had given them, I’m certain that all 16 of those kids were truly enjoying themselves and feeling happy to be out of a “walled” classroom and into the great classroom of the ocean. The zings of exhilaration pulsing through their growing bodies (and developing hearts and minds) were gifting them with good health and a sense of well being not always present in an inner city, paved over play ground.

Even the post office has been generous.

Firstly, a gift box arrived from Zimbabwe care of Bev Reeler. She wrote:

“What can I send across the planet – what threads of Africa that can be held in your hands on the other side of the earth?”

Along with a shaman’s necklace, lucky bean tree seeds, a pinch of earth and seven feathers were three stones to be placed on top of the Peace Garden’s ancestral midden:
1 crystal rock—from the Zambezi valley, Deka river mouth near Victoria Falls
1 basalt stone—from the Indian Ocean, Mboyti, Eastern Cape
1 brown stone—from Mana Pools, Zambezi Valley

Bev conducts Tree of Life workshops for torture victims in Zimbabwe (for this and other environmental/social work she became a Windgrove Laureate last year). Taking her stones from the box, I arranged them at 12, 3 and 9 o’clock around the larger “key hole” or “tree of life” stone given to Windgrove by an aboriginal elder from Cape York, Australia four years ago.

The gifts keep piling up.

Also, in the mail came a monetary gift in the form of $5,000 from my dear friend, colleague and fairy-godfather, Paulus Berensohn. He, himself, was given money to pass on to three charities of his choosing and Windgrove was one of them. Such a wonderful gift will certainly allow the vision for larger artist-in-residence facilities to move off the drawing board and into windows, boards and nails.

So, if there are any more people out there with a desire to help the Windgrove Centre grow on any level, please send stones or checks to:

Windgrove Centre
Roaring Beach
Nubeena, Tasmania 7184
Australia

Like many other lucky people, I received Paulus Berensohn’s Valentine card this week. This year, however, his drawing is, at once, more powerful and more pleading.

Opening up the card, Paulus writes on the inside:

“Help”

the cry of the Heart

--- to offer and give

--- to need and receive

--- to each other and our earth

For Paulus, the heart, in all its manifest shapes and sizes, is asking for help. In this time of global chaos, the cry of the heart is not specifically personal or solely human. Gaia also is hurting; anima mundi also is hurting; all creatures great and small are hurting. Love is needed everywhere.

On the morning of this Valentine’s Day, I found, half drowned in the bottom of a water jug, a Little Pygmy-possum desperately trying to stay alive. It had fallen in looking for something to drink, but due to its small size—two inches long, 60 mm—it was unable to climb or jump out of the jug. Boy, did it look miserable.

While resident artist, Sally, cuddled the little guy close to her belly to help lessen any hypothermic conditions, a hot-water bottle was prepared and positioned in the bottom of a box, followed by lots of soft clothing. Here, the pygmy-possum was gently placed in a warming hollow of clothes. Giving us what looked like a heartfelt “sweet thank you”, it then burrowed deep into the fabric and disappeared out of sight.

Nothing could be done now but wait until nightfall and see if this tiny nocturnal marsupial revived enough to climb out of the box and find its way beneath the oven where, I suppose, it feasted nightly on the bits of food and crumbs dropped by the messy chef.

When Sally and I returned late from a trip to Hobart for our own food gathering and a dinner out, we noticed that the box was empty. We went to bed sleepy in the contented knowledge that all had turned out okay.

But, as in all matters of the heart, the doors of compassion, joy and pain keep opening and shutting. The “little guy” turned out to be a mother as, the next morning, I found two dead babies on the kitchen floor, most likely drowned while in the pouch of its mother and subsequently removed when she, herself, recovered. A third was later found by Sally.

All three are now buried under a stone at the base of the ancestral midden. May their little spirits rest in peace. 

A vow is generally seen as a solemn undertaking to achieve something or to act in a certain way. In other words, a serious commitment.

Two people getting married take a vow to “love and cherish”.

Such as between Gav and Jo this past weekend at Windgrove where 80 adults and a scattering of children watched the ceremony within an encircled chapel of silver peppermint trees.

Looking closely at the feet of the bride and groom, one can only notice that despite all the fine fabric adorning their bodies, bare earth was making contact with bare feet. This simple act grounded their love for each other with a love for the earth. Their vows of love for each other were more real for the fact that they understood that if they were to have a happy and long life, a healthy planet was a prerequisite. And, a healthy planet, like healthy children, is only possible if it is loved.

The day after the wedding a different group of 13 women arrived at Windgrove ostensibly to learn basket weaving techniques from the aboriginal woman, Harry. With a workshop title of: “Sharing Care and Sharing Country”, however, it was understood that more would be on offer than just plaiting sagg grasses.

Like the wedding, the weavers heard, appreciated and acted upon the importance of “walking the talk” of a commitment to loving the earth in all its wild diversity. 

This is not New Age wank. For the earth to house six billion humans something has to give. We can begin to learn what this might be when we all take personal vows to cherish the air, water and soil that is our home.