About Bonding......again....

I’ve lived in a house on the edge of an escarpment in the Blue Mountains, where the wind would rush up from the valley, and push the door closed, and whip through your skin to tickle your bones.  Where mist would sit like a waveless ocean in the deep blue valleys, and the cliffs would shine in the sun.

In an old terrace house, with a huge and elegant bedroom, that had a quaint fireplace and balcony, overlooking a busy country street in Bathurst.

In a caravan, on the bend of a river through an Arab horse stud, where I spent all my days looking after horses and riding.

In a student house in Strassbourg with Canadian art students, creating exhibitions in deserted warehouses.

Above a pub in Islington.

In the bottom storey of a massive sandstone manor called Wadi Shaifa, looking over another valley in the Blue Mountains, with massive windows where the moon shone in, and an enchanting park down through the front yard.

In a share house in Lane Cove, with bright lights and a beautifully glittering harbour.

In a witches cottage in Katoomba, set behind the street, where magic seemed to shimmer on the walls, and I painted it cream and crimson as soon as I moved in.

In a two storey cottage on Cliff Drive near the Three Sisters, with an overgrown garden that my girlfriend and I reverently uncovered like archaeologists, in a cute and artfully painted home.

In a stunning three storey tower with floor to ceiling windows, and carved bookshelves, looking out on another valley in the mountains.

In a bluestone mansion, set into a disused sandstone quarry in Stirling, with a spa bath, and paved verandahs, and luxury living.

In a three story rammed earth squat, with wooden balconies, in a country town in Adelaide.

In a disused Uniting Church Camp, where we hung out in a massive Mess Hall with a huge stone fireplace, and I had one of the oldest churches in Adelaide, as my first ever studio.

In a quirky, greek style, 4 brick thick home in the Adelaide Hills, on beautiful land, with massive gum trees, and a sacred spot where three creeks met.  We lived in a meditation studio, and witnessed epic night skies, and one night we even saw a Moonbow.

On a community in the Adelaide Hills in a true hippy home, where all the houses were joined by the roof to stay on one title.  Living on redgum regeneration land on the Meadows creek, and right next door to pristine indigenous bush, and stately pine forests.

In a bizarre little self organized shared household in Mt Barker Springs, where we lived in an unlined shed that I hung with material. With an indoor/outdoor fire pit, that we sat around a lot. 

In a little shack on the side of Mount Donna Buang in Victoria, in breathtaking mountain ash forests.

We’ve slept in a river bed outside Alice Springs, where you can see the Emu in the sky most perfectly.  Red earth and wide skies, and the brilliant aliveness of the desert.

And in and around all of these homes, our deep and abiding hearts home, was our ex army Toyota Commuter van, that I crocheted the seat covers of, and made cargo nets and beds in, and crafted hand made swags for.  In which we drove everywhere, could be ourselves and unobserved more than anywhere else, and had a mobile environment that we took with us everywhere we went, as a permanent sanctuary.  Where we could wake up at any place in the country, and have a cuddle before a strong cup of coffee. 

We’ve lived in two beautiful houses, on the picturesque and diverse community of Billen Cliffs, in Northern NSW. 

And I’ve never loved a home and parcel of land as much as I love it here.

Living here has fit a final piece to a puzzle that I’ve been working on, researching, and personally experimenting with for decades.  That puzzle being the full capacity and breadth and wealth of bonding in it’s extreme.  And through beginning to know the ocean of it…….maybe more to the point learning in the extreme what bonding ISN’T, along the way. 

And to be brutally honest, from my perspective as a bonded lover, mother, crafter, and now home dweller and animal herd……..virtually every facet of western civilization, is more of a lesson on how to unbond, disunite, disconnect, and separate, than any kind of bonding and love leading to community, self organization and empowerment. 

I’ve written so much about bonding over the years, from many perspectives, it’s been an almost obsession in my life and blog.  All the lessons  I’ve learnt from unparalleled honesty and trust, in an intimate and loving releationship, and from my larger amount of birthing experiences than the average bear, have led to very similar whole body learnings about love and bonding.  Those lessons now extend into home, land, and animals – all universes on their own.

Before I started my interior journey through loving Currawong and birthing babies, I thought of bonding as some vague cliché thrown around in ways like ‘male bonding’ and ‘female bonding,’ to do with sports or business.  The most I really heard about it was in nature documentaries and zoo stories around bonding, and farming stories of bonding to other species.  If this kind of inter species bonding and it's potential power interests you, watch this documentary about Animal Odd Couples.

But through living all my different experiences, I’ve learnt how integral bonding really is, in our mammalian journeys, and through our ancestral and evolved consciousnesses.  I believe, through truly living my life and following my own path, I’ve stumbled onto enlightenment through all the stuff that most people like to transcend.  I’ve deeply bonded with my mate, with my children, with my home, with the land around me, and with the animals we share the land with, both domesticated and wild.  I’ve bonded with the world around me, through my focus and unbinding into the bonding of birth, sex and death.

And this is the kind of bonding, love, community and connection that my ancestors went to war for.  Defended their lands with their lives for.  And had many stories and different ways to access the divinity within them, and through them, their land and connections. 

Living as we are presently, in Western Culture, or maybe more accurately, as the most educated Roman Slaves on the planet………..it’s not surprising that virtually all aspects of our society, are about how to disconnect us from each other, to prevent that bonding and community from forming.  From my perspective anyway.

Why is homebirth and homeschooling so roundly and solidly attacked?  Have you ever wondered about that?  Such a tiny minority of people?  Who affect hardly anyone?  With virtually no damage to the average person? Why is homeschooling illegal in virtually every western nation except America and Australia?  And why is homebirthing so intensely vilified?  Could it be, that these very events can potentially create greater bonding, and thereby increase the capacity for community?  Why are the genders set up in war against each other?  Why have sensible wholes been split into dualities that are foolish without each other?  God and Science belong to each other, as a dynamic, cyclic whole.  Home birthing and Hospital birthing the same.  Cultural education and Home education as well.

When you truly look at most indigenous lifestyles in our ancestries, in which we’ve lived in for the majority of our evolution, how did we get here?  Where we send our children off there, to bond with strangers that change regularly, and a bunch of other scared and emotionally undeveloped younglings, to bond with each other?  Behind fences?  And our men off there, to work with other men usually, in work unrelated to their immediate survival, clothing or food.  And our women off elsewhere, be it to groups or services or jobs or home duties, bonding with others in other ways.  And all of this bonding and unbonding of families, is all happening elsewhere, other than our homes.  Our homes have largely become the places we eat and sleep, and nowadays watch screens.  All the important stuff we do is somewhere else.  Our jobs, our passions, our crafts, our trades, all usually happen somewhere other than our homes.  And our relationship to animals has gone from co-dependant relationships that include the land we all live on, working out how to help each other birth, survive, thrive and die with dignity, to a bizarre pet relationship where those without children of their own, or a lack of community love, can translate that bonding instead to a pet, who they love and bond with in the same intensity.  Or we have a complete disregard for any other sentience at all, in the form of factory farming.

We’ve all got a honing instinct as wide as our hearts towards bonding.  And whether it’s with an animal, partner, child, craft, home, land, trade, community, sport, religion, or spirituality, we’ll have it in our lives in some way.  And I’m suggesting that our humanimal potential is to experience bonded love in all those areas.  Or at least a lot more than just one.  If that’s our yen and destiny.  A love to family, home, animals, land, and community, that is bonded and deep, intensely intricate, and eternally interesting.  A love that is as scary as exhilarating, and deep as potentially shattering.  We waft through life with a hundred breathing hearts, connected to our beings with yarns.

And that bonding creates the oxytocic bubbles, that mirror the intense moments of birth, sex, and death, and echo through our existences.  When we connect and truly bond as families, and communities, and at markets and events, we generate a vibration that truly attracts others, hungry for that love and connection.

I’m not sure if there’s a point to all this, except that this is all deeply on my mind and in my heart at the moment.  As we experience awesome bonding with the home where we live.  The animals we live with.  Our journeys together and how attractive they are to the most interesting people.  How through deep bonding to all aspects around us, we’re experiencing self organization on a profound level.  All the aspects we need to continue our bonded and self organized flow together, and around each other, just come.  Without any effort.  The right people and events spill around like pebbles on the creek floor, effortlessly going with the flow or staying put, depending on what’s needed at the time.  Every animal, child, tree or wild animal experience, relates to other things on many different levels.  Taking the steps  towards each other, working out how to mutually benefit from each others existence, rather than harm the co-existant whole. 

Each morning we wake, with a whiff of the potential of just about anything whispering on the wind.  Any person or entity could rock up and we most likely wouldn’t be surprised.  As we sink into our self organized, bonded family, chaotic harmony, a bright buzz whirrs around us.  We’ve got more visitors coming to swing through our realities, than we ever have in our entire relationship.  One tent comes down, and another one goes up!  Things are learnt effortlessly, as valuable mentor relationships spring up all around, our vibrant and authentic children.  So much is packed into our days, that we barely get time to recognize it, before another wild event comes galloping down the road.  So much learning is fast tracked and hacked into, by so many people and lessons on our doorstep. 

We’re learning about each other, and who we really are, and other people, and how they live, and animals, and what they need to thrive, and eat, and how it’s best to be eaten, and personalities, and how deep they root, and the re-spelling of the spells that our great western culture has spelled on our souls.   

And coming across so many other people wanting to travel the same authentic paths.  Into themselves, each other, their homes and land, and other animals.

We live in one of the most diverse communities I’ve ever lived, where the main tenet is respect for every living thing, except for violence or cruelty, which is dealt with in person and directly.  There are so many people with so many philosophies trying so many different ways to live.  So many directives, inspirations, and dreams being striven for.  Nobody really knows how many communities there are in the hills of the Rainbow Region, but there are hundreds, and they’re all different.  I’ve heard tell of communities focused around medieval sword fighting and knightliness, around unschooling, christianity,  womens land, fairy land for men, permaculture, survival anarchy, the desire to share no community at all, solar power, low income earners, activists, and more exotic possibilites of this sort than you could possibly imagine. 

And all these people shop in Nimbin and Lismore, and get together at markets and events, and swap stories and experiences, and I know that it’s a world that could be endlessly explored, and never fully known.  And the experiment is a huge success from everything I’ve seen.  People have learnt compassion and acceptance from their lived experiences. 

It’s fast tracked our family community experience, as a mirror showing it’s face to a world full of mirrors. 

I think the point of all of this is to ask you to jump in.  Wherever you find it, however it moves you, find yourself a community to bond with, with your family if you have one, or if not find a family that needs you.  And dive in!  Experiment!  Realise that the hurts and pains are the equal and opposite on the way to learning how to navigate the stormy waters, leading to the gentle bay of bonded community. 

It’s the only way we’re gonna save ourselves and our planet.  To bond with it and our families and our homes and our lives and care for each other.  Because we’ve recognized our dependance on each other and everything.

Or something like that anyway :)

The Year Of The Equal And Opposite Reaction

This year was truly the year of the Equal and Opposite Reaction.  I'd dallied around the edges of getting this realisation before, in a theoretical kind of way that made sense but wasn't quite felt yet.  This lineage has been building up my entire adult life, with trauma after betrayal after intense life event happening - and then the equal and opposite swinging in with amazing people, realisations, and support, leading to understanding, learning and growth through change.  Often the most traumatic change has brought the most dramatic growth.  

I'd have to say the year of 2012 was when the intense flash cards of equal and opposite started to kaleidoscope between each other the most magnificently.  Our family made sense through the bonding after Zarrathustra's birth, of the dramas that led to us leaving South Australia, that ended up being very good in the long run, and taking us to a far better place.  My friend Michael Lusty committed suicide, and the equal and opposite of such a tragedy was a tremendous outpouring of connected community love.  Since then a Death And Beyond group has started in Nimbin to deal with death better.  And I had a personal moment with my brother through serpentine interconnections, that was truly and deeply beautiful.  I wrote a Note To The Menfolk, and it touched a lot of people.  My blogging friend Lauren of Sparkling Adventures  and her 4 daughters lost her son Elijah and her husband David in one tragic stroke.  I watched her deal with unnameable grief and loss and heartbreak, with grace and love.  We met in person at Elijahs' funeral, and she did and continues to inspire me and change my life.  Where she travels in her equal and opposite reaction to an event we all quail from, has profoundly impacted in a hugely positive way on many many lives.  Another friend Sarah Kerr lost her son Tully in 2011, the brother of Ruby in birth, and honestly shared her grieving and heartbreak, and has gone on with her amazing family to create a beautiful video of her family loving Tully even in death, with an incredible song Blankets Of Love, written by another beautiful friend Loren Kate, which went on to raise money for cold cots so that other families could do the same.  She and her family are travelling the country at the moment, leaving some ashes of Tully everywhere they go, as a heart flowing tribute.  I also met with another truly beautiful human, both inside and out, Bree Daley Forsyth, who is published in the same book as me Birth Journeys, who lost one of her twins Sage, and has gone through a similar underground journey into the equal and opposite of the beauty and growth that can emerge through death.  And right at the end of the year I got a big dose of hate and cyber bullying.  Which pushed me into owning myself, and my shadow and light, and was a very clear case of equal and opposite.  Only equal to the amount of hate and bullying was the amount of love and acceptance that came with the tide.  It's true.  Haters make you famous.  And it pushed me over the edge into self love and acceptance, which meant I could write My Truth

Enter the year 2013.  

First thing of the year was moving into a hoarders house, which was a HUUUUGE amount of cleaning and work just to get there, and ongoing as we tried to uncover spaces.  We got to know all sorts of people, and with true hippy naiveté  thought that love and acceptance would heal everything, even the people who our instincts warned us might be volatile.  

I had an ectopic pregnancy, that was like the shortest pregnancy and most painful birth I've ever had.  And had all the attendants that normally surround birth, of confronting skeletons in pregnancy, and the bonding and oxytocic adventure after birth, even though it was birthing the spirit of Bodhi Seer into our family, who brought many gifts with her like all my children do.  And through the physical pain and emotional pain (because we'd quite fancied the idea of another baby), we were treated amazingly by the hospital staff that helped me through the experience.  And loved and supported by our friends on our community.  Who looked after our babies so that Currawong could be with me.  And all the way driving into Lismore to be hospitalised for a night, we were crying about how loved and held we felt.

As part of the increased learning and growth that was the equal and opposite for the pain and grief of an Ectopic pregnancy, I really got that we had to eat our shadows.  I was thinking and thinking and thinking, for days and days it seemed, and my thoughts almost hurt.  I was trying to come up with my Humanimal Manifesto, and it was flowing and streaming from my pen and my fingers, and right in the middle of it all I really truly got that our shadows and fears are actually our friends, with the seeds of enlightenment and learning within them all.  All the worst things that have happened to me have taught me the most.  Every heartbreak has cracked me through into greater love.  Every grief increased my capacity for feeling joy.  Every pain has eventually given me incredible comfort.  All as an equal and opposite reaction to each other.  I was down on the ground, with my hands on the earth, looking at ants only inches from my eyes, and saying to myself, 'I LOVE my shadow, I wanna EAT my shadow, and all the shadows and fears that have beset me have been BRILLIANT in where they've taken me.  From now on when I see a shadow I'm gonna RUN into it's arms, cause it's there to teach me!'  I was all impassioned, and explained it to Currawong and he instantly got it, and 'Eat It' by Weird Al Jankovich was our theme song for a few days.  

At one point I was yelling to the sky 'Just bring it on!  Bring on any shadow you want, cause I know  that it will evolve me!'  

And we bumped smack bang into one of our fellow community dwellers who was as brilliant……as he was an evil wolf, and we'd made friends with him in his sheeps clothing.  And he went all psycho at us and another family, threatening to kill Currawong, and holding us under siege for two nights.  We also fell out in similar but unrelated ways with many of the others we were close to.  Overnight it was over.  And yes I did think to myself 'eat this shadow silly bitch' almost as soon as it happened.  We got out and away, and were totally traumatised, it was in the middle of winter, and we were suddenly homeless with 7 kids.  And I shut down my blog and stayed fairly quiet online to keep our whereabouts hidden.

And the equal and opposite to this event has been quite stunning.

We drove off our community in full flight and trauma, straight into the Rainbow Cafe for lunch, where I met my new best friend and we had an impassioned talk and loved each other on sight, and then straight to a new friends house where she cooked us a roast and filled us so full of unconditional love it was stunning.  In the process of her and her family helping us in the dead of winter, we actually helped them in a sweet and unexpected way.  And then needing to sit somewhere and work out what to do next, I thought the very best place for a bunch of hippies to hide………was at a christian farm stay.  I knew there was an unschooling camp coming up at Hosanna Farmstay,  so I thought we should check out where it was going to be, as well as give the kids a holiday to take their minds off being so freaked out at seeing us scared for the first time in their little lives.

The minute that we explained to them what was going on, (we thought it was only fair) and we worked out that they were ex-hippies and I was an ex-christian, it was love at first sight.  They nestled us under their wings, and their gentle WWOOF'ers took the kids on the farm chores, we were in tears often, and had all sorts of inspirational conversations.  Even though I was into the eating of shadows, I was also into loving myself wherever I went.  So I went totally into all the emotions that came.  Fear, loss, grief, betrayal, anger, hyper vigilance.  Many tearful conversations were had, between me and Currawong and especially Alex at Hosanna, while we stayed there a week.  There was a moment of pure gold, when I was desperately trying to find connections and understandings talking with her, and compared god to chaos and gave her on a silver platter the opportunity to barter for my soul…. (I would have taken it up in my christian days myself).  And she fixed me with a piercing gaze and said "We're all different, and God treats us all individually……you don't need to be like me" with a huge smile and hug.  Could have kissed her I could.  And the caretaker and his family were a treat, and Dutch, and came to us seriously one morning with the kids in tow, and sat down with the dad holding Currawong's hands.  And they told us a story about how they prayed to God every morning, and wrote down the messages that came, and a month or so earlier, one of their daughters got a message that a family in a big bus was coming, who weren't christians, but they needed their help.  They said a week before a family had come in a bus, but they were christians, and they thought maybe that detail was a bit different, but then we turned up and they knew the message was right after all. And they were so there for us in such a deep and unexpected way, and so much more than a safe place to hide, that I could just hug them all, and hold the memory as a golden star.  They were angels of mercy and love, and when we left they threw us a huge lunch, and we parted to many promises of seeing each other regularly.

From there we were sheltered in a cosy and comfy shed in the garden of a mansion on a thriving community in Nimbin, and found all our needs and legal requirements beautifully met in the most amazing and resourced town I've ever lived.  We were so fried from what had happened and working it out, but the landscape, dwellings, and friends who passed us around and sheltered us were so very beautiful.  Currawong and I learnt about the long term effects of adrenaline on a body, and had many tense, teary, and desolate moments, looking at the chasm that had grown overnight between us and the community dream we'd been living.  But while this was happening we were also being treated beautifully by the Police people who were dealing with our case of being intimidated, and then  violating his bail conditions.  A big burly constable was about as gentle as you could be with my shaky questions.  People all around town helped out wherever they could.  As well as our extended network stretching all over the country and welcoming us wherever we thought we needed to go.  With legal matters we're here till they're done though.

And on the morning when I had us all packing up and going on the road till the court case, we fell into the most amazing house that we've ever lived in.  We couldn't have tried harder to not get it than if we were actually trying - no references beyond phone ones, no income statement, fluffed phone messages, too many of us, but we just seemed to fall into it.

We love it so much it's silly.  I feel so good living here, that I compare it to all the other people I tried to fantasise about a future with, as opposed to meeting Currawong and just settling into that future and meeting so deeply.  It makes me think that every other house we've lived has just not been the right one.   It holds us so well and beautifully.  I've fallen in love with the land, it's powerfully intense, behind a major sacred site on a mountain.  There are magnificent fig trees that I'm yarn bombing.  I could burble on for a while about it's beauties, but there's a point I'm getting to.  So we love it.  We're happy.  And thriving.  And have realised a lot about ourselves and each other.  I also had the most magical metaphysical experience of my life…..but those are all other stories.

The big lesson of the year for me, or maybe more to the point, the reaffirmed and confirmed lesson that I've been learning all my life that has really kicked through this year…….is that of the equal and opposite reaction.  Every action, has an equal and opposite reaction, and that doesn't only count for physical things.  When we send out love, it can often bounce back as hate, and vice versa.  And this isn't dire or drastic or dastardly, but a reflection of a perfect composite of opposites that bounce off each other to change, move and become.  Every single thing in the universe is energy that is constantly destroying and creating itself over and over, and we are also the same.

This year has been huge.  I've learnt how good I am at 'making things good'.  I've learnt that you really can't love someone who doesn't love themselves, cause they'll always prove you wrong.  I've learnt to accept my equal and opposite of extremely good and bad.  As well as the same in those around me I love (and hate).  As good as a person can be, is as bad as they can be, and the scariest people are those that only own their good.  Or their bad.  We all project onto others the issues that we don't deal with in ourselves, and I've learnt enough from the arts of projection to be able to be projected at, without taking it personally anymore.  I've learnt that security is an illusion.  I've learnt that surrender is really the best tactic when dealing with everything.  I wonder if we all do ourselves a collective disservice when we strive towards the good all the time, thinking that bad things that happen are an act of karma, and something that we're paying for, rather than seeing it as the equal and opposite, and the swing to the change, and the down to the up on the great see saw of life.

I'm reading a book at the moment.  I don't read much offline anymore, having my fancy well and truly caught by the multi media splendour that is the internet, but old fashioned books with slightly brown edges and that booky smell still have my heart.  At least I'm trying to read it, but I keep reading the first part over and over, and really stretching my head to fit it in.  It's called 'The Tao of Physics' by Fritjof Capra, and it's all about how Quantum Physics is bringing the seeming opposites that are really a unity of science and religion together.  Cause I don't know about you, but I think science without god is just about as silly as god without science, and as the man explains, Eastern mysticism has forever kept science and god on fairly good terms.  And I've been most taken by the fact that early in our Western thinking, before Aristotle and Descartes separated everything out, there was a tradition where everything was seen as one and connected.  In particular, Heraclitus, of the Milesian school summed it up about perfect.  And every time I get to this bit in the book it just stops me completely, and I've got to sit and contemplate (or rather contemplate in that part of me that sits and thinks while my busy brain is active performing tasks or shutting out the chaos of 7 busy children) and really let it steep for a while.  It goes like this….

…….The Milesians were called 'hylozoists', or 'those who think matter is alive', by the later Greeks, because they saw no distinction between animate and inanimate, spirit and matter. In fact, they did not even have a word for matter since they saw all forms of existence as manifestations of the 'physics', endowed with life and spirituality.  Thus Thales declared all things to be full of gods and Anaximander saw the universe as a kind of organism which was supported by 'pneuma', the cosmic breath, in the same way as the human body is supported by air.

The monistic and organic view of the Milesians was very close to that of ancient Indian and Chinese philosophy, and the parallels to Eastern thought are even stronger in the philosophy of Heraclitus of Ephesus.  Heraclitus believed in a  world of perpetual change, of eternal 'Becoming'.  For him, all static Being was based on deception and his universal principle was fire, a symbol for the continuous flow and change of all things.  Heraclitus taught that all changes in the world arise from the dynamic and cyclic interplay of opposites and he saw any pair of opposites as a unity.  This unity, which contains and transcends all opposing forces, he called the Logos.

If I wanted to sum it all up, I'd say it was interesting that I posted the story of Spiral-Moon's birth and bonding and the shift of our energies that destroyed and created a whole new community for us at about the same time that the very same thing was about to happen again.  During the very short pregnancy and miscarriage of Bodhi Seer, which is the name that came to me when contemplating this baby, we experienced the very same shift through grief and bonding, instead of birth and bonding, and a very similar destruction and instant creation of the old energy, making way for the new. And it was so clearly obvious the equal and opposite, that for all the people that exited stage left rather traumatically, a whole bunch of people turned up on stage right straight away, that were similar but different.  Everything that was destroyed was created again, fresh and new and brighter.   And the change brought great growth.

Looking at life this way just really works for me.  It makes sense of a lot of things on contemplation for a start, and it also takes the sting out of the 'bad' events, along with the guilt and self blame I've carried for the negative events in my life.  Take the judgement out of good and bad, and see it instead as equal and opposite, and two interdependent parts of a logical whole, and all sorts of mini miracles can occur.

I wonder what next year will bring…..

Chaotic Self Organisation

I've written a lot about chaotic harmony, or the conscious balance inherent in everything for a while now, and apart from about a million different stories from our market experience and from living near Nimbin, there's a really good explanation of how it works in 'Seven Life Lessons of Chaos - Timeless Wisdom from the Science of Change', by John Briggs and F. David Peat.  And I've been telling it to people for ages now, so I thought it was time to share it with you.  I'm just gonna quote verbatim from the 3rd Chapter, which is called 'Going with the Flow - Lesson about collective creativity and renewal'........

Wilfred Pelletier, a Native American from an Ojibway community north of Lake huron, says his people aren't into organisation, there's no need for it "because that community is organic."  Pelletier gives an illustration of how his unorganised people nevertheless get things done.  

"Let's say the council hall in an Indian community needs a new roof.....It's been leaking here and there for quite a while and it's getting worse.  And people have been talking about it.  Nobody organises a committee or appoints a project leader." Nothing happens, in fact, until "one morning here's a guy up on the roof, tearing off the old shingles, and down on the ground there's several bundles of new, hand-split shakes - probably not enough to do the whole job, but enough to make a good start.  Then, after a while, another guy comes along and sees the first guy on the roof.  So he comes over an he doesn't say, 'What are you doing up there?' because that's obvious, but he may say, 'How's she look?  Pretty rotten, I guess.' Something like that.  Then he takes off, and pretty soon he's back with a hammer or a shingle hatchet and maybe some shingle nails or a couple of rolls of tarpaper.  By afternoon, there's a whole crew working on that roof, a pile of materials building up down there on the ground, kids taking the old shingles away - taking them home for kindling - dogs barking, women bringing cold lemonade and sandwiches.  The whole community is involved and there's a lot of fun and laughter.  Maybe the next day another guy arrives with more bundles of shakes.  In two or three days that whole job is finished, and they all end up having a big party in the 'new' council hall."

Who was responsible for deciding to put a new roof on the hall?  Was it that first guy on the roof, a single isolated individual, or was it the whole community?  "How can you tell?  No meeting was called, no committees formed, no funds raised.  There were no arguments about whether the roof should be covered with aluminium or duroid or tin or shakes and which was the cheapest and which would last the longest and all that.  There was no foreman and no one was hired and nobody questioned that guy's right to rip off the old roof.  But there must have been some kind of 'organisation' going on in all that because the job got done.  It got done a lot quicker than if you hired professionals.  And it wasn't work, it was fun."

Chaos theory would answer that the "organisation" in Pellerier's roofing project was self-organisation.  It began with chaos - all that disorganised talk beforehand about the leak.  The first guy on the roof was a bifurcation point that became amplified.  The feedback between the first fellow and the next one who came along started a cascade that coupled the community together around the project, and then the system got the job done.  

Clearly, Pelletier's Ojibway community is an open, creative, chaotic, nonlinear system.  As he put it, the people in this group "aren't into competition.  But they aren't into cooperation either - never heard of either of those words.  What they do just happens, just flows along."  Within the community's creative open system, micro self-organised systems spring up from time to time, such as the community's action to repair the roof.  Such short-term self-organisation renews the community and keeps it alive, as testified to by the big party held in the new council hall.  

Social self-organisation and collective creativity doesn't only happen in Native American communities, it happens in rural communities around the world and in informal organisations of all kinds.  In many different circumstances, people start coming together, helping out, lending a hand, throwing in their two cents.  Nobody's leading particularly, but things get done.

A high-tech example of social self-organisation is the Internet.  The Net was started back in the 1960's by the U.S. military looking for a distributed command system in the event of nuclear war so that no single centre could be knocked out.  The idea was similar to the one that conceived of the U.S. highway system as a distributed airport of landing and takeoff strips.  It occurred to the planners that computers all over the country could be linked together to create a giant system that shared its information.  But once the Net was set up, academic scientists began to use it and it was eventually made available to the public all over the world.  Relatively quickly, more and more individuals and groups joined, until by the mid-1990's an estimated 25 million people were on-line and the number was doubling every eigthteen months. 

Nobody's controlling the Net (at least not yet).  It's maintained by an open flow of users passing information around.  Within the global self-organisation of the Net and its subset, the World Wide Web, are countless mini self-organisations springing up all the time.  People come together to do creative work - everything from photographers displaying their pictures of lightning strikes to underground musicians converging on Web sites to create an audience for their work to interest groups discussing the Vietnam War or Brazilian cuisine.  For those who have access, the Net is a daily example of collective creative exuberance.  Most of the activity is carried out by people who are making things, looking for information, and exchanging ideas that simply interest them as part of who they are.  The giant, hierarchically structured, power-driven commercial organisations have so far been largely frustrated in their efforts to harness the Net to their mechanical engines of profit.  Anyone who has surfed the Net knows he has entered a chaotic, dynamic open system where "what they do just happens, just flows along."  Clearly there's order here, but it's chaotic. 

Taken together, the traditional Ojibway community and the new cyber community suggest a radically different approach to social organisation that the one currently taken by postindustrial society.

So what do you reckon?  Pretty groovy eh.  And a concept and phenomena that I can report as being incredibly easy to be part of, flow along with, and surrender to, whenever we enter the company of other sovereign humanimals, led by our natural interests and passions, in a way that acknowledges and accepts each other as equals and valid, and do anything together in a non-heirarchical kinda way.  And stuff really does have the darndest way of showing up when it's needed, and when we surrender to the greater focus and don't sweat the details.  

Really wanted to share that with you, and hope you enjoyed it.

Phat Rope

Gone all toad in the road 'parp parp' from Wind in the Willows about rope.

Got the most gorgeous community family that come around all the time, and help feed babies and clean floors and make tea and sit and talk and house clean and dish shine and bring ideas and give assistance and shop for us and suggest myriad ways to do everything.....

Just about any day of the week, you can find us on the verandah with a gorgeous community family member talking about or doing something interesting.  The most generous, easy to be with, old fashioned family helpful bunch of people, that have ever been gathered on a community I'm positive.  And they're all beautiful to look at too, wearing bright colours and shades of the rainforest and resplendent feathers and unique wrappings.  If my eyes were a movie camera, the world could feast along with me.  

We all appreciate each other, help each other out, give where we can, and solve some of our problems together.  Vulnerable enough to show each other our soft underbellies, we've all been a bit hurt by families not being what they were meant too, and finding family of the heart with each other.    And cause we're all getting on and giving to each other and appreciating each other.....really amazing things happen, like incredible healers coming over to give my Currawong a massage and Reiki on the verandah, and I got one the other day from  ANOTHER beautiful healer we know.  Of course Spiral and Mr B had to be involved.  Like their new haircuts?  I'll talk about that another time....

They seem to be oozing out of the rainforest around here.  Healers and lovers and enthusiasts of life.  Practicing the gentle art of hanging out and being nice to each other.  Currawong and I have been talking about being Human Animal Liberationists for a long time now, and living it, and talking it, and one of the most precious fantasies we've had is about setting up a Human Animal Wildlife Sanctuary.  And we've realised that we're actually living in one, and we are it.  Paul, who has been dreaming here for a long time, has always had a vision of community camped and homed up all over the place, with a sanctuary available for anyone who needs it.  And we have too, and almost without realising it, it's been happening before our eyes and cosied in our hearts.  We took in a couple from the street and helped them get on their feet and get a home.  And learnt a lot in the process.  We had a dear friend come over and sleep on our lounge in the middle of the night, while we were all asleep, dream a sweet dream that had us all in it, then woke early and went home resolved with love, before we even woke.  Wouldn't have even known if she hadn't told us.  We've had visitors and community members and people crying, and de-burdening, and whoever needs a cup of tea or an ear or a shoulder has one at the Big Bamboo.  

Wombles always were friendly folk.  

And what comes back is all the wealth glimpsed in those 'It takes a village to raise a child you know' conversations, that always end in a sad recognition that we do it all on our own these days.  But for the first time in our lives together, we feel like we've got a glimpse into what that indeed might have been like.  To live in a community of like minded people that really cared for your whole family and vice versa.  For the first time in our lives, we all drag our feet to go out, and will spring at any chance to stay home.  "Baby asleep?  Oh damn.  I'd better stay home then" was something I've NEVER said over the last long years of living too close to other people and in other people's spaces.  We were always on the gallivant, to avoid feeling observed, or criticised, or like an exhibit in a zoo.  And now we all want to stay at home, cause the WORLD comes to visit us here.  And now we're going to play with Nimbin Market, there's a whole other planet that we'll get to satellite and grow friendships and networks with.

In grattitude for the helping with a rogue goat, our beautiful neighbour Elbereth brought us homemade savoury scones and marmalade and avocados and pickled beans and pesto.  Our Fairy Goddess Mothers bakes us up regular storms and we help her, and our soul sister Ms Pitstop comes over and just naturally helps to sweep as we make a pot of tea and get ready to sit and talk for a bit.  She's like the aunts who don't want to be aunts in our families of blood and bone....except a whole heap more gorgeous and real and deep to be with.  And has helped us more completely and effortlessly than I knew could ever be done.  Yollana and Karen are two other beautiful souls who just seem to be family, along with the rest of their families.  And there's more!!  And it all just seems to flow around nicely......when we surrender.  The give and take and treats and spoils we're swirling round between us is infectious, and all sorts of plans and ideas and dreams are being hatched.  I never would have known that family could come in so many different souls, with such beautiful dressings and skills. 

It can almost be a bit of a religious experience sometimes, as all sorts of connections and stories and networks are told and formed.

Love em all every one.

And just a few days ago, our devine Ms Pitstop showed us how to make rope.  Or rather she showed Spiral, and my eye took notice, and then after she left, while Spiral kept going and we saw the rope pouring from her fingers, me and Lilly and Mr B joined in, and she showed us too.  We all sat round on the verandah playing with banana tree fibres, that are woven together inside the stalk, and fall apart into silky tresses.

And then a day later she infected us again, (as if I didn't have enough inspiration going on) and Paul and us all sat around, and thought about the deep concept of rope, and different ways to play with it.

And it's quite profound.  Never knew how they kept that twist in rope and now I do.  It's spinning, but without a wheel, and without spinning the same yarn twice to get it plied.  It's plying as you go.  Twisting it one way, and then the other, at the same time.  Making little cells of both the S and Z twist together.  Duality entwined and made one.

Rope is whole.  Made whole as you go.  Spinning is pulling the process apart into two seperate parts.  Rope is made with your hands and whatever you can twist into rope.  Spinning needs a spinning wheel, or a drop spindle, or some kind of tool.  The indigenous women here have been spinning since before our records show culture.  On their thighs.  I think I know how now.

As you can imagine, this figurative and literal metaphor under my fingers is transfixing.  I can spin a perfectly balanced phat rope with my hands.  (That was a highlight of the other day, listening to Elbereth the 60 year old talking about how much she loves phat beats - she spelt it out too)  I've always always wanted to work out how to make phat rope.  Or make a rope that would hold the weight of an adult.  And the flexible fibres to make them with too.  And now I have it.  Can spin the phattest thread I want, and for as long as I want, and just like with knitting, how it's all got to stay on the needle or it runs, and with crochet each stitch is kinda locked off......with rope making, the rope is balanced and twisted off so it doesn't unravel, and you can hook it on your toe or a bamboo verandah rail, and put anything in you like, and make the rope as you go.

Which is where we came into this post, with me sitting metaphorically on the road like Toad in the Wind in the Willows, after he's seen a car for the first time going 'parp parp'.....and I'm totally knocked for six by the simplicity and complexity of rope.  In the middle of conversations I'm totally derailing them by remembering something else I thought of about how cool rope is.  All that time we schlepped a spinning wheel and assorted tools around the country.....and I could have been spinning rope! 

There's something so personal about it.  Such an intimate connection with every fibre.  Hand twisted with complete control of how hard or soft that twist is.  Able to add anything that can be twisted into it. And to become a story like a two plied yarn could never be.  Adding in hair from haircuts at the time they happened, and all the other things could become a literal tale.  And it's just me and my hands and fibres.  No interventionary tool is needed.  I can walk out in our garden, and pick pea vine and banana stalk and banana leaves, and grasses and hair and just about anything twistable,  and turn it into a strong rope, strong enough to hang nets from trees and swinging crocheted and rope made bell jars from trees to meditate in.

I've been looking for this without even knowing it, and it's as old as twisted fibres.  I was always looking for a spinning tool to make rope, and now I know it's just my hands.

So just like Toad I've gone a little potty.  Making yarn from banana tree silk and ripped sheet, and unravelled ripped sheet car seat covers, and raw fleece, and the most sumptuous mohair rope.....

I started out making rope from banana tree strands, along with the kids after the inspiring Ms Pitstop left, as soon as I got that it was both spins in one, I was totally mesmerised.

After that conversation on the verandah with Paul and all, I started off with raw fleece, and then added in ripped sheets, and a strand of commercial yarn I got given a little while ago.  It's so PHAT!!!  I love it.  Totally strong and gorgeous and capable of all the bigger and heavier weighted things that I've been dreaming about for years.  I'm thinking I'll turn this into a small version of a bell jar swing for Zarra to swing from the roofbeams by.

And Ms Pitstop and Spiral started a ripped cotton sheet rope, and I finished it off, and it struck me how incredibly quick and easy and beautifully you could make uber strong rope for just about everything.  Rugs would look pretty gorgeous made from this.  Or clothes, with this as a skeleton inside.

But my most favourite is the phat mohair.  It's so lush.  I wish I could create a sensory strip on the screen for you so you could feel it.  Soft and creamy and light and ropey in a silky smooth way.  I'm thinking of making a big blanket that can be worn also as a poncho.  Or maybe even a little crocheted vest.  Cause by the time you wore a garment with mohair spun like this for a while, you'd end up with the furriest funkiest vest you could imagine.

Makes such a beautiful metaphor for the moment.  That of perfect balance, and of two processes that are easily pulled apart and separated, working together to make a balanced whole. 

Bit like all the other things that are coming together in one for us at the moment.  As in all the elements that we've loved and sought out more of, are circling round us here in ways that spin our heads.  Making rope and mantles and crocheting and spinning and getting involved with a market and having all these gorgeous mentors and heart family here for all our kids, and building bamboo kitchens and furnishings and moving along soon to gardening and getting chooks......  We've realised that all the dreams we sent out there long ago seem to all be settling around us now.  

Like many of our ancestors have known, just about the grooviest thing you can do with a life is let it revolve around home and family and hearth and community and love and sharing and building homes and gardens and making friends with animals.

And making phat rope.....