We recently spent an afternoon down at Coogee. It was beautiful, radiant, immersive.
Of course, to get there involved typical Sydney busyness: the hustle of arterial roads; the desperate search for a cark park – somewhere preferably in the same suburb! And there were people everywhere. Some were out walking (in designer lycra); groups of young people gathered and socialised; people were walking the family pet; and some brave souls were swimming.
Read MoreFeet of Clay, Pray.
“Feet of clay now breathing air
Let me be the earth at prayer”
Steve Bevis
Context is everything. Without it - without place, relationships, history and local cultures - we drift into the arms of sly advertisers, one-eyed politicians and religious hucksters. We become consumers of stories sold to us for another’s profit, or power. Stories that quickly and ruthlessly denude place, connection, and, ultimately, life itself.
Yes, it’s bad. But the way forward is also reasonably simple. Be attentive to where you are - and remember where you are from. Even if it’s hard ground to plow, even if making the new path is laborious, work for the transformation and conservation of where you are, and the people you live with on that land.
Read MoreWhat a treat to spend a weekend with dear friends and colleagues in Mbarntwe/Alice Springs and to speak and share music at the Uniting Church camp! It was wonderful to be grounded once again in old friendships and to walk and dwell for a moment on Arrernte country. Being surrounded by the ranges and the songs of birds, was to fill our lungs and souls with the breath of life.
Grateful, doesn’t begin to express it. Thanks to all for sharing once again by the fire, clambering up rocks together, singing along, and filling the silence with laughter and the sound of deep, abiding human connection.
Read MoreOn ANZAC day we travelled up to the Blue Mountains to see the “Autumn Leaves” (cue the music for lovers of Jazz standards…). And also to visit family who live in the mid-Mountains. Many of you will know that we lived up there for many years, and still own a home there. One day we hope to return. It was beautiful to see the exotic trees in Wentworth Falls and Leura turning red and yellow. It truly is a sight to behold, and part of me has always loved this European flora, transported so far from home. It makes a Anglo-Celtic heart glad.
Read MoreIt’s my new goal: to be mistaken for a gardener. I’m doing my prep, sitting on the couch watching Costa and the team on Gardening Australia, then looking out my window and dreaming of what might evolve in our urban backyard. I know, it’s a slow burn start…
But slow is ok. It may be even better for our overrun souls.
Read MoreBurwood Park is classic European Australian park at the edge of a now-bustling urban centre. People stream out of shops and businesses to sit on the grass, enjoy the shade of sprawling tree-lined paths, and, of course, dine at a cafe - what experience of being in a park feels complete these days without handy access to coffee or chai?!
The entrance to the park, though, has intrigued me since our arrival…
Read MoreThis week we planted a seedling in our backyard. Yes, the Weetjellan or Acacia Implexa that I mention in a recent post: the harbinger of Burran, the season we are still in here on Wangal Country, Australia. It seems small, frail, surrounded by suburban grass, and a tall timber fence. I have no idea what the timber fence is made from, but I’m guessing it isn’t made from the Ironbark trees that this little Acacia’s ancestors would have been surrounded by here in these parts. No matter, we do what we can: we plant what we have, we dig, we water, we trust. And, we try and do what makes sense in the land where we live, with the people and community we live among.
Read MoreHaving faith in God encourages me to have a little faith in my neighbour.
And that includes my First Nations neighbours, the Indigenous peoples of this land.
Having faith in the Creator helps me have trust that my neighbour, made in the image of our common Creator, has all the potential of someone that is a bearer of the Divine, a person worthy not only of respect, but a person with a voice, with wisdom, knowledge and a gift. And that their culture has made them who they are. It, too, is a gift.
Read MoreIn this week of Lent, a week of raging grassfires and scorching heat, I’ve learnt afresh that we can still learn from Indigenous knowledge of seasons and country. According to euro-Australian lore this is now Autumn. Really? No, not here, it isn’t. It is actually the season of Burran; and if we understood this we would be better prepared and more adjusted in spirit and mind to where we live, and to what the seasons or time of year really are telling us. These seasons carry lessons practical and spiritual.
Read MoreAs we’ve been settling into our new home in Burwood I’ve been trying to get a sense of where we are, of the place itself: the land, the trees, the birds that alight in our garden and stare back at me, like the Kookaburra on the back fence, or the two Australian Ravens that call their song to whoever will listen.
One thing I noted on arrival, well, you could hardly miss it, was the large pine tree in the back yard. Part of me cursed whoever had planted it there a long time ago. All I could think was “pine needles” and having to rake them up before moving the lawn!
But over the past few weeks I’ve taken time to stand beneath it and sense its presence. I wondered: is it native, or is it, like me, a nomad, a pilgrim from another place? My guess was maybe it was a Norfolk Pine, but far from being an expert - I don’t think watching the occasional Gardening Australia episode qualifies! - I did what anyone would do: I googled. The answer was there on my screen: a ‘Cooks Pine’; named after you know who… Turns out they are from New Caledonia, so this tree was truly far from home…
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