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…..

My Truth

I’ve been banging on for a while now about everything being perfect, a microcosm of the macrocosm and the like.  About how even the imperfect bits are perfect, cause they’re who I am.  And form part of the body of my experience.  How everything is conscious, and in balance, except for us humans.  How we’ve got to make peace with and own our shadow selves. And if you’ve read my blog for a while, you’ll also know that I think we should all tell each other our authentic truths, so we can get over the fear of rejection and judgement, and get onto working out how we can all let each other be, and help each other out.  Talk about birth, sex and death, and all the other wows of life. 

But I should really take my own advice.  And step out from behind my fears and judgments, or rather my judgements about other people’s judgements, and stop omitting the bits I know that others might have a problem with.  Stop letting people get about with the idea that I’m some kind of earth mother, hippy, attachment parenting, unschooling, homebirthing, peaceful parenting, organic eating, wise thing.  Cause I’m the culmination of all of those labels that I’ve taken for a test drive…….yet none of them completely.  In fact the only label that I can be counted on to own, is that of Hellena Post. 

Cause I know that I’ve tried to let people only see the nice parts of me, just like you try to only let people see the nice sides of you.  And I know that I say “ I’m fine!” when there’s a morass going on in my head, and problems too deep to talk about, and I know that if I’m part of a stereotyped group, I’ll try my best to show only it’s good aspects to the world too.  And I know that I’ve been nice to someone, and then had a secret bitch with Currawong about them in the privacy of our home, and I know that when I feel judged, I will often judge back, and I know when I judge others I’m also judging myself, and I also know that the energy needed to manage such games, could be used in far more creative ways.  I’m using judgement as a conscious tool rather than a sword more these days…..

And I’m guessing that there’s people watching me from afar in my nice little blog, thinking I’m some kind of wonder woman, to have all these kids and still be creative.  Thinking I’m one of those people who have got their shit sorted.  Just like I thought that just about everyone else had themselves more together than me.  And I kept up the game, and I kept trying to please, even though I thought that deep down I was pretty messed up, and if anyone ever really knew what was really inside me……..they’d curl their lip and walk away. 

I suspect, from life experience, that we’re actually all children.  Some in small bodies, and some in big, but essentially we’re all like children inside.  Children running round in adults bodies and buying the myth that when you’re an adult you’ve ‘got it worked out’, even though most of us feel confused, and wonder who in the hell we really are.  Children in big people’s bodies who think that the world revolves around us.  And unfortunately, children in big bodies who sometimes do to other children what was done to us.  Unless an effort is made to go against imprinting, and create behaviours more healthy.  So we put on our socially acceptable masks, and our polite routines, and don our uniforms, and play our adult versions of the games that children play.  The bullying games and the name calling games, and the fear games and the two faced games.  The judging games.  Except as adults we think they’re justified, and important adult business.  And many of the games revolve around hiding who we really are. I like instead to acknowledge my bad tempered, tanty throwing child within, and let my kids have the same freedom.  Within reason that is. Us big kids have worked hard at repressing ourselves, and we try to insist on the same from our children.

So enough.  I’m outing myself.  As a human.  And maybe even a bit like you.  I don’t feel a need to play the game anymore.  I’m ready to own my whole self.  The shadow and the actress.  The mirror and the everything.   I’m finally getting to the point where I believe in my head and my heart that I’m perfect……just the way I am.  Even the dark bits are good.  Cause they’ve kept drawing my attention to areas that needed work.  Some healing.  Some light shone.  Or they’re just damn gorgeous how they are, cause sometimes depression can hurt so good, and pain can make love even stronger, and hate can bring issues to a head, and embarrassment can create a humble apology. 

I get grumpy.  And I yell.  I’m like an attack terrier when there’s an issue.  And I can be really good at freezing someone out.  Sometimes I get irrationally angry, and will snap at the drop of a hat. But I’m also good at unraveling the seeds where my bad moods come from, and then talking them out and explaining them to others.  I’m especially good at apologizing for them.  Sometimes being in a bad mood is a good excuse to just have some time out.  Some of my angriest moments, have also been the cause of some of my greatest insights.  Usually pushing me against some kind of boundary or fear, where I’ve learnt a tremendous amount about who I really am.  And as I come to accept myself and others more, the bad moods are easing, and lightening up, and quickly dealt with. But I’m actually glad that they’re there, and don’t think they will ever fully go, cause they’re the down to the up that can get so very high!

And I can also whirl everyone up in a story or giggle, and turn tantrums into games,  have the patience of a long term mother, and smooth over and help heal emotional and physical wounds.  One of my particular magics is turning any space into a cosy home.  Even an unlined shed can be glittered into liveable with crochet nets and swathes of material. 

I swear a lot, (and so do the kids, but they know not to do it round people who will be offended), drink cider and mead and other fine draughts, and smoke hand rolled cigarettes and the odd spliff.  I know all the reasons that all these things are ‘bad’, cause I’ve had them told me often, and I’ve told other people them myself when I’m going through my regular cycles of not doing any of them. (except swearing….that’s a bit of a constant since the encouragement of my beautiful ex-punk swear bear).  But at this point in my life, I’m actually on good terms with all of them.  They’re my friends, and my homeopathic stress relief, and my little time out.  I would even call them sacred.  Hey, remember this is my reality that I’m creating, you can create your own :)

I’ve been known to get addicted to really naff computer games.  And obsess about them.  Haven’t had the time for it lately, since 4 little boys under 4 take much energy, but my ability for compulsion is vast.  When I’m in a crochet creating or spinning cycle, my ability to focus on it and it’s birth only is supreme.  And often in retrospect, I’ve noticed that these little times out were like a pregnant pause.  A seemingly inactive phase, while I’m obsessing about a game or a creation, where stuff seems to be boiling round, just beyond my conscious reach, and when the obsession is over, I jump to a new idea, or concept, or time frame. 

Whilst eating mostly local and organic foods, cooked by my lush man, and keeping processed foods to as low as we can, we also love our hot chips, and the odd splurge into fast food, junk and sweets.  Instead of apologizing and shaming myself about this, I believe that we’re experiencing balance.  Everything in moderation.  And I know that what I feel about my food is almost as important as what it is.  We also eat meat.  Free range wherever possible, but the other as well.  Even though factory farming is horrifying, and I believe in the consciousness of everything, I also can see the sense in the Paleolithic, or Nurturing Traditions diet, and meat has been needed for my pregnant, birthing and breastfeeding body.  I’m aware that this is paradoxical and hypocritical, but I’m good with it, within my own consciousness and reasoning.  And have many ideas about where I’d like my food to come from in my future.   It’s a journey only harmed by judgement. 

I’ve had more sex than you could poke a stick at, from friend sex, to getting to know the secret you sex, to party sex, to being abused sex, to deep and meaningful sex.  And learnt a shitload in the process.  I’ve had affairs with married men, and been ‘on’ with more than one person at a time, been molested by family and raped by women, and had two abortions….even though I swore I’d never have one, and had huge judgements about people who did.  I’ve fucked people through their sexual blocks, and studied the art of being a great lover, while hiding the fact that I couldn’t physically feel anything.  And faked all my orgasms.  A lot of the early sex I had was disempowered, and through my choice of keeping on throwing myself into the fray, I managed to transform it into empowering.

Sex is a journey.  Not a destination. 

And through all of that, and because of it, I find myself now in a 13 year old monogamous relationship, with my heart and soul mate, and the father of 7 of my 8 children.  It took us years and nasty fights to show each other our flawed bits, and accept and love them in each other.  And we’re in the process of a journey into sex and love that rockets beyond all my previous expectations.  I’ve not only healed my sexual hurts and helped him heal his and vice versa, but we’ve travelled together into a world of lust for each other that leaves me breathless.  We have the kind of sex that I thought only happened in movies. Or  erotica.  And our love and acceptance for ourselves and each other keeps growing.  In fact it’s never stopped.  Every time I think it can’t get any better than this it does.  But it didn’t start perfect, and we’ve had to work hard to stay present, and it’s not hearts and roses all the time.  We still have humdinger fights, though as we learn about ourselves and each other more, the intensity and hurt decreases.  I like to think of our fights as shining a light on an issue that needs some attention.  Our relationship is an effortless magic that we work hard at.

I’ve got an STD.  Herpes in fact.  And ironically, I didn’t get it from my years of predominantly unsafe sex with numerous people, but from my monogamous 13 year relationship.  This was a hard one to come to love and accept, because when I realized I had herpes I felt very mortal and old.  I’d always believed that I’d never get an STD cause I’d dissolved my sexual guilt. So getting it was a bit of a kick up the bum of my arrogance and judgement.  But I see it now as a reminder of sexual pain, and an indicator as to how my health and immune system is.  When it comes, it comes with lessons.  Just like everything else about our shadows, to do with birth, sex, life and death. 

I love my body, and the baby making and pleasure it can do, and am so greatful that it’s taken me through life so effortlessly.  But have spent large amounts of my life thinking it ugly and fat, and wanting to hide it away.  Through my time with feminism and other women I worked hard to break the beauty myth, and learnt how to wear my big boobs proudly without a bra.  And through my baby making years my weight has vacillated, and I've strived to keep loving myself and seeing my ample bosoms and belly and body as life giving and nurturing.  I had a real moment at the market we started in Adelaide.  There was a group of 7 women or so who were in the regular crew who were absolutely STUNNING!  As in drop dead gorgeous, and women that you'd see in magazines.  And one night after market I asked them how they felt about their looks.  And ever single one of them thought that they weren't very beautiful, and were flawed.  At that point I realised that I'd never feel good about myself in this society, and to be down on myself was just too much of a cop out, and giving my power to silly standards.  It's taken a while to really believe it, after employing the old 'fake it till you make it' method, but I'm proud to report that I'm actually there!

I’m not often into other people’s kids, unless they’re really lovely.   And I’ve been known to growl at them when they touch my spinning wheel or precious things.   I’ve witnessed lots of kids do what we do as adults, and be sweet and innocent to the people that matter, while being little arseholes to everyone else.  I love my own kids to distraction, and have fierce loyalty and protectiveness towards them, but sometimes they can just be evil.  We have a pattern in our home of the older kids picking on the younger kids, that usually starts when a new kid is born and displaces them, and it’s been quite distressing.   Poor little Zarra, unless constantly watched, has three little boys who will stomp on his hands or whack him or try and pick him up by his neck.  Shit seems to roll downhill.  But I see this behaviour in many other kids, and if you wanted to compare us to other mammals and the tumbling games their babies play……. Griff can whack and kick and hit, and sets the theme for the other kids.  But he can also do stuff like come home with a mate after a weekend of X-box and Nerf guns, and the first thing he’ll do is pick up Zarra, and kiss and hug him and hold him for a while, while his mate has to look after himself for a bit. And there was a moment when a boy started picking on Lilly cause she was a girl, and she started hitting back, and then they had a glorious time wrestling and fighting, and he was totally won over by her and sad when she left.  She wouldn’t have been able to do that if she hadn’t been prepared by Griffyn.  She likes being able to hold her own.  I’m coming to realize that it’s something we all do in our own ways.  Love and unlove in equal measures, circuiting their way through the whole cycle.   Or maybe love and unlove are actually parts of the same thing…….

I’m aware that we’ve taught our kids a lot of bad habits and behaviours by modeling them, but also a lot of good ones as well.  I also know that there is a lot of a person who just is who they are, from the moment they are conceived

When I really like someone….I take on some of their characteristics.  So do my kids.  We all acknowledge this, and talk about who we borrowed them off, and whether they work for us or not.  Actually, we talk with our kids about all of it.  Our patterns.  Our triggers.  Our bad moods.  Our reactions.  And the big kids give us awesome and fair-minded feedback.  They tell us when we’re acting like children, or like each other, or like idiots.  I love my kids.  They tell me about what they really do.  The naughty things they get up to.  The secret kid conversations about sex.  They’re like my kid spies, who tell me what it’s like in the children’s underground.  And they’ve told us often, that we’re not like other adults.  They love that we can relate so well to that feeling you get as a kid when you know nobody is going to take you seriously…..cause you’re a kid.   And they love that we take them seriously.  And ask their real opinions. 

Even though I’ve lotus birthed (two) and homebirthed, and co-slept, and demand breastfed, and continuum parented, and carried my babies……they’ve still cried inconsolably, and been grumpy and irrational, and had tantrums and been angelic demonspawn.  And frustrated me, and pushed me to my limits, and made me feel like I was going crazy, and very occasionally made me want to throw them out a window……but I never have.   And just cause you trust their instincts, doesn’t mean that they’re not going to fall into the Yarra River just after you’ve been talking about the ideas in the Continuum Concept.  Or tip Tea-Tree oil in their eyes.  From my experience, I need to trust their instincts, but keep a parents eye on them nonetheless.

I’m very aware of all the people and institutions and belief systems that tell a person, and especially a child person, that they are flawed and wrong.  That they have to do more of this, and less of that, and change this, and grow that, and behave themselves in this way or not at all.  I also know that all the grooviest things and people and places that I’ve been to and discovered in my adult life……..were never mentioned to me as a possibility when I was a child.  And all the things I was taught, had to be unlearnt sometimes, or transformed, in order for me to learn the things that I really needed to navigate my life.  Our memories are associative.  And all of my best knowings and tools come from experiences where I’ve learnt things for myself in my own way.  It’s taken me so many years to feel like I’m unburdening myself of other peoples expectations and becoming who I really am…..that I’m loathe to try and tell my children that they have to be anything but themselves. 

So we keep our children with us instead of giving them over to others to instruct.  Being unable to find an institution or community that would teach our children that they are born completely perfect, with consciousness and awareness within their DNA and every cell in their bodies, that will lead them to everything they need and desire in life…….we’ve opted to keep them at home.  And expose them to as much varied life as we possibly can. We tell them how much we love them, and regardless of how annoying certain behaviours may be, how they are all perfect, exactly as they are.  And we see all of life as a learning experience.  Everywhere we go, and everything we do, we’re talking.  Noticing the intricate details that surround us all the time in the natural and human made worlds.  And everything is questioned.  Why is that happening?  What could be the reasons for it?  Who would be benefitting from that being that way?  Where in your experience can you find a parallel for that one?  How does that work?  What do you think? 

It hasn’t taken long to realize that my children can teach me and themselves far more than I could ever teach them, and to be truly amazed and enthralled with the genius thoughts and lateral and logical thinking and perception that they exhibit.  And I’ve also learnt that the very best thing I can do for them is to tell them my truth.  About how I tried on other peoples traits, and lied, and hurt others, and stole, and was naughty. Our biggest aims for our family, is that they like themselves and each other by the time our main parenting is done.  And have the confidence to be who they are in the world, and chase their dreams.

Which doesn’t mean that I don’t also yell, and threaten, and control, and bully, and bribe.  I’m into boundaries, and consequences, and being accountable for your actions.  I like my kids to have manners that come from the inside, and model it for them by being respectful to everyone we meet, and seeing everyone as equals.  And I’ll also prompt them to be polite, not mandatorily, but when I know that someone has just been very generous or kind, I think it’s reciprocal to say thanks. From the very start, I’ve thought it important to teach my kids enough about societies expectations, that they can be loved and welcomed wherever they go.  I never wanted them to be the kinda brats that come round to your house and you think “Oh no, that horrible kid’s back, quick, hide the valuables!”  I never wanted them to feel that from other people.  And the most predominant feedback we get about our kids, is how well mannered, behaved, beautiful and helpful they are.  They’ve spun many a place and person out, when they stay behind to help clean up. I wont let my kids beat each other up beyond reason, or other people’s kids.  And if they bite me, I bite them back.  I also count to 10, and in very extreme situations will give them a flick. And through all of it we talk, and we apologise if it’s needed, and we dissect it, and we try and work out other ways of doing it.   We learn from it, and see it in other people, and relate with others on the sliding scale of behaviours, and sometimes if we’re really really lucky, we get to see the miraculous event of a habit, pattern, or antisocial behaviour being transformed, understood, and reintegrated as a valuable tool. 

While I think that ‘the system’ as it exists is a bit sick, I never mistake ‘the system’ for a human.  I’m not anti mainstream, I just think we could all do a lot better by ourselves and our planet. I think that we’ve collectively had to get as distanced from ourselves, each other, and the planet as we are, to push the boundaries, and learn the lessons that can only be learnt at the edge.  We always treat officials and beaureaucrats and police folk and the rest with openness and respect.  And end up having amazing conversations and even hugs, cause they’re wrapped that they’re not being grumped at or stereotyped.   And we’re very greatful for the government monies that help to support us.

I’m glad for the ‘bad’ things that have happened to me.  Because there can be a place, where the great hardships of life, and the suffering, and the death, and the murder, and the rape, and the evil intention, and the cruelty, and the senselessness, and the pain, and the illness take me to that 'other place' where women in birthing often go, where very sick people go, and where mourners of death go, and it HURTS and I GRIEVE and it feels kinda timeless, and the ordinary world around me drops away, and time seems to slow or stop, and I search and seek for other people who can understand this parallel world with me and talk about it, and in the midst of the deepest aches I start to feel the equal and opposite reaction. The fierce love for my people, and the vow to protect them and love them and tell them how much, and to nurture them and do my very best to be the best person I can and change my part of the world or inspire so that the pain will decrease for some.......yet at the same time, that pain and suffering has become my muse and great lesson, and I learn some more qualifications about how to navigate the seas of our society and discern people and situations that work for me or not. The gifts and lessons of the shadow can't really be replaced by sage unicorns and rainbows speaking wisdom in forest glades. It's the battles and senselessness and pain that teach me the deep lessons of balance. And flexibility. And change. And chaos. And harmony. And adaptation. And then sometimes the pain feels less piercing, and the evil has taught me, and it all seems kinda perfect...….

I'm perfect in my imperfections.  I've got a crass sense of humour, but only when it's safe to come out, and most of my mistakes have led to great lessons.  I learnt so much from raising my first daughter, because even though I thought I was doing it so differently to my parents……I repeated a lot of the patterns that they taught me in different ways.  And I fucked up in lots of ways.  In others I was awesome.  But I learnt from it all.  And through all my mistakes, and my flaws, and my habits, I've been pushed into areas and concepts and realisations that I never would have, being a nice girl doing nice things.

I reckon that’s about it.  I reckon I’m done.  I’m out of the closet as a human.  This is my offering to the alter of honesty.  And I can tell you now, that this has been the longest transition to birth, of any post I’ve written.  There’s about 10 drafts that lay languidly uninvolved.  I’ve found this the hardest post ever to write.  Cause I don’t want to offend.  But I don’t want to omit my truth.  As scared of outright rejection and nasty criticism as anybody else.  I tried writing it poetically and cryptically and mystically and metaphorically and none of it really worked.  I ended up with huge preambles and justifications that sounded like I wasn’t proud of who I am.  Nevertheless, I finally got here in the end!  So now you  know that I can really tell the truth about who I am, and be in love with myself even so.

This is me. 

And I’m owning it.

Funk

I’ve been in a funk.  A blue mood.  Full of conflicting emotions and realities and perspectives and worries and attitudes past and present.  All my most prized and hard won beliefs have been parading past me like a gay pride march, colourful flags billowing, sequins body suits sparkling, signs and symbols of lessons learnt emblazoned onto brightly painted placards.  Or sneaking into our bedroom at night, slipping between sleeping babies to kiss me on the cheek and remind me of their worthiness.  And all the doubts associated with the getting of my beliefs have been re-animated as ghosts………did I really get it ‘right’?  Did I really stretch and tease and pull apart my beliefs and iron out all the wrinkles? 

Sitting with babies and cleaning their messes and feeding them food, BIG THOUGHTS come and dance a whirly gig in my head.  HOW AM I GONNA CHANGE THE WORLD? thoughts, and WHAT DIFFERENCE CAN I MAKE? thoughts play intricate games of chess with my mind.  And when they go quiet, the seductive pull of self doubt and feelings of aging come sneaking round.  Why do I think it really matters what I think, when I witness the enormity of the universe, and entrenched beliefs around me, and that great wheel of life that never stops it’s grinding procession?  Who am I really, but another aging hippy trying desperately to hang onto the vitality of youth?

I guess it all started with the business course.  Determined to carve us an income from our lifestyle, I launched into an ecourse feet first.  And landed heavily on the glass shards and needles of my attitudes and life experiences around the monetary drive that I’ve periodically ignored and explored throughout my lifetime.  The justifications I’ve used to pursue it, and the rationalisations about how I’d use it better than I’ve seen.  My lust and disgust for it.   And then my last post ‘money’ galloped out of the wings, trumpeting wildly about the beauty of the places where money isn’t, and placing it in the hall of mirrors where I nearly always end up.  Me, and my unique spark of the universe that I carry with me wherever I go, nearly always end up sitting on the floor in a vast reflective cavern, where I see my spark mirrored there, and there, and there, glinting and crackling along with all the other sparks, that contain every spark within them.  My drop of the ocean that remembers where it’s been. 

When the dust settled on my introspection about money, I came to realise that my dreams of having money almost always end up in some kind of “We’ll buy our farm and close our gates and set up our own private heaven, and the world can just pass us by” fantasy.  I think our lack of money keeps us far more real.  And sociable and interacting.  When it comes it will be perfect though, and we’ll know how to deal with it.

Then we were sitting at home one morning, facing another day of feeding babies/cleaning babies/entertaining babies/cleaning up after babies, and the call came to action!  We tumbled into the van, oranges and nappies flying, and we swooped off to a nearby town where Metagasco was digging a pond to hold toxic water, the ‘waste product’ of the system of gas fracking.  One of 5 ponds in this town close by, that are shallow, and leaking, on a floodplain in a regularly flooded area, that is totally fertile and growing food.  Coming from 9 wells that are operational, only 2 of which that are working, quietly humming away in this town so near where we live.  We were gutted.  And elated to meet so many disparate folk coming together and forming community around protecting the land.  And devastated when we looked at the reality of this unsigned pond in front of us, leeching poisons into the waterways.  And delighted to passionately speak to the man who was making a movie about CSG.  “Just wait a minute, I know this is going to be profound and I want to be filming it” he said, when I came up to him to tell him one last thing.  Lilly found spiders that were the same but different on tall grass seeds, and he filmed her reverently observing them, exclaiming over their beauty.  And we were sick to our stomachs as we watched this pond in our backyard…….I thought it was only happening in Queensland!  And they’re MINING THE KIMBERLEY’S!!!!!  The only environment on the planet where there’s no record of anything having gone extinct!!  They’re stealing our planet, and our children’s future, and ‘they’ve’ got to be STOPPED!!

And our activist clothing came snaking out of our closets, settling on our skins and in our minds so easily, so neatly.  Our old bedfellows of righteous indignation, and wrath for the despoilers of the planet snuck into our bed that night.  Squeezed between me and Currawong and Zarrathustra, leaving the head lice of the countless wars waged by ‘them’ on our pillows.  Keeping us warm with all the ideas we were hatching, for saving the world.  We spent years being passionate advocates and activists.  Once you start to open the book titled ‘Humanities damage to the planet’, carcasses spill out readily, and atrocities bleed through the pages.  Where do you stop? How can you choose which is worse than the other? A mind numbing litany of heartless cruelties heaped onto refugee’s, indigenous clans, wild landscapes, ancient artworks, millions of other species, waterways, oceans, forests, biosphere…….you know how long this list is.  It’s an overwhelming and despairing list.  That can hurtle you to burnout quicker than a shuttle.  But fuck ‘The Secret’ with that whole concept of Mother Theresa not going to anti-war rallies, but only peace marches, and how what you focus on grows!  Protest is powerful and productive, just look at Iceland, and Ghandi, and Protestors Falls, and the Franklin Dam, and all the other amazing things that have happened.

Our old clothes fit us so well, that we wore them for days, and were having passionate discussions and feeling heavy thoughts on our shoulders as we sat with babies and sheparded them outside.  As a brief interlude one night, we sat watching photos and videos of our journey to our new home.  Marvelled at how beautiful and nostalgic our trip has become in hindsight.  Now that we know it all turned out okay, I can look at the worry lines on my brow and laugh, knowing that I had nothing to worry bout.  I could have just enjoyed the ride. 

So we went to bed that night, in a bubble of remembering that the very best thing we can do with our lives is to smile, and love, and create beauty and inspiration.  But in the morning our heavy clothes had snuck back on.  “How could they mine the Kimberley’s”, and “How many billions of dollars do they need?”, and “What can we do?”, and “Don’t they have children?”……………..  “They” started dancing over there in a place where I could get them in my sights and SHOOT THE BASTARDS cause they didn’t deserve to dance on mother earth with me and Currawong and my precious babies and you and all the other peaceful people on the planet with love in their hearts.  We felt remembered and real aches and griefs and deep down sorrows about all the destruction our species has wrought. 

Currawong went to visit a smiling wise hermit on the hill behind us, swapped shorthand stories of deep and yearning places, as you can learn to do when you’ve a mountain of children that hug the toes of every interaction, and he came home crying.  “Surrender!” he cried.  “It’s all about surrender.  I can’t hate, and attack, and pursue loggerheads with this world………….because it’s all me.”  It felt for me like a light had been chiselled, and then all of a sudden warmth wrapped me, and with it came instant peace.  Like a bulldozer had just dumped a load of remembered perceptions and lessons on my head that crackled through my system.   We brainstormed and swapped quick flashes of realisation, and it all tumbled out of him like sour tasting words that he knew were true for him nonetheless.  “Of course that waste water pond has been built badly, cause that supplies a need for the clean up team, who then require a holding team for when the ponds overflow and need pumping out and holding till later, which provides work for another team, and it’s all interconnected and perfectly interactive cause it reflects the way evolution works, and the millions of fine tuned balances that keep our world spinning.  Every single thing reflects everything else in it’s complexity and interconnectedness.  From fast food chains, to enormous corporations, to the Kimberley’s, to our governments…….. Of course it works so well, because it’s reflecting the brilliance of the universe!”

Microcosm of the macrocosm.

And he’s right.  And it’s interesting to note that 12 years ago when we were settling into our first nest together, we both remember an argument/debate we had that lasted all day.  From the pub, over the bridge, through dinner, and into bed, where early in the morning we had to agree to disagree – He thought (r)evolution could only come from changing the system till it filtered to the individual, and I argued it had to change in the human till it filtered to the system – and realised we were arguing the same thing from different angles, and finally got some sleep.  And another one I said when we met absolutely infuriated him.  I told him he had to stop hating George Bush, cause he WAS George Bush, and that argument lasted years.  Later during our market years, I dropped many a jaw, when I said that George Bush was one of the greatest environmentalists ever.  Think about it.  The man lives in a five star rated environmentally friendly and energy self sufficient home, and has galvanised more people into environmental and political action since Ghandi, and was definitely a harbringer of many people realising that their governments weren’t to be trusted.  I can just imagine him sitting in his rainbow dyed t-shirt hashing over his plan with a friend, “So if I turn into a complete knob, get dad to make me president, and destroy the environment, take my country to war, blow up the twin towers, start a war on terrorism to destroy individuals freedoms, and come across as barely sentient and monosyllabic, then I’ll galvanise a huge amount of sleeping dreamers to wake the fuck up and get in control of their insides and this runaway train we’re on!!”  But I digress…..

So after Currawong’s passionate moment of clarity and realising it was all about surrender, and all a reflection of him………..all these little lessons that I’ve learnt along the way came out of the wings in their slightly bedraggled tutu’s, pirouetting remember songs in my head.  The first time, sitting in the sun on my sister’s lawn in Bathurst, when I really got that love and hate could co-exist.  And were indeed the same thing.  I hated my stepfather and what he’d done to me and my family, yet I loved the special attention I got, and how he was careful with my sensitivity.  While I was trying to settle on whether I really did love or hate him I was in a quandary.  When I accepted I could do both at the same time, I was peaceful.

All those times I thought to myself as a young thing “Why does she have so many children if she can’t be nice to them?” And I’ve since learnt exactly how she might have been grumpy.  “Why doesn’t she just keep that child quiet?” And I’ve learnt how you can be in a situation where there’s nothing you can do to stop a baby having a tantrum.  “How can she smoke when there’s babies around?”  You guessed it.  I know how that can happen too.  “How can they be so nice and together, and then go and do something like THAT?”  I’ve done things that people would think such things about.   "How can women have caesareans?"  I got that one too.  “Why does she say all that, and then go and do the opposite thing?”  Yup.  Been there too.  In fact just about every time I’ve said “How can they/she/he” do ANYTHING………I’ve been totally destined and fated from that moment to have a life experience that will show me exactly how.  

I started noticing that every time I had a falling out with someone, they would say exactly the same things about me, as I was complaining about them.  After observing and listening and learning for years, I realised that every human being was capable of every single thing under the sun…..including me……given the right circumstances.

Maybe I was more fine tuned to the ‘darker’ side of life from my childhood and my family and the stories that pulled me and made me feel.  Maybe it was leaving my childhood religion and knowing that I had to re-educate myself and that I knew nothing.  Maybe I just have a deep place inside me that’s never forgot how dark I can be throughout my many incarnations.  I was reading a poem about the witches that were burnt one day, and felt in detail my fingernails being pulled off one by one.  I’ve heard loathsome and fearsome and disgusting stories of human depravity, and I’ve hunkered down and cringed…….but I’ve never been surprised.  It’s always been recognisable.

I’ve sat with murderers, and businessmen, and rapists, and clergy, and paedophiles, and politicians, and dominatrix’s, and doctors, and prostitutes, and psychologists, and drug dealers, and fundamentalists, and bikers, and police officers, and just about anyone else that might have graced the likes of Australia’s Most Wanted, and seen myself.  Connected with them, not as a judge, or a do gooder, or trying to hide a sensationalised voyeur…….but as an equal.  And been honoured and privileged that they also showed me all their beauty, and fragility, and sensitive hurtness.  Their inhumanity and humanity all together and intermingled.  Not separated into the polite and nice boxes that we often like to keep ourselves in.   

And I’ve got a doozy of a lesson that I’ve been wanting to tell you about for a while now, and here’s where it belongs.  I’m a survivor of incest.  I had body memories and flashbacks when I was 24.  And went through all sorts of groups and books and modalities of healing to try and make peace with it.  Now nicely packaged along with sexual abuse, often comes weird arse sexual fantasies.  Where a person can fantasise about rape, and feel totally fucked up and despicable because of it.  Sure that if anyone ever knew what went on in their head, they’d be hated and avoided forevermore.  Obviously that person was me.  Many moons ago when Currawong and I were still in the flush of new love, we set our feet on the path of honesty, and gently showed each other our scars and deep wounds.  And loved and accepted each other despite them.  In this climate of acceptance I was running a well known fantasy in my head, with me as the abused.  And decided to switch perspectives and become the abuser to see what happened.  And got off on it. 

In that moment I knew that I could abuse.  Given the right situation, and provocation, I could.  I understood my abusers and how they could hurt me.  I realised they were enacting what had happened to them.  And in meeting this strange and unloved part of me, I knew I could accept it as  me, and would never be so removed and in denial of it, that it could hijack me into doing something I wouldn’t choose in a loving space.  Now I’m not saying this is the cure for incest, but this is what worked for me. 

And another thing happened.  If I could learn such heart stretching deeps and compassions and love from these parts of me that I saw reflected in others……………….then how could I say it was wrong and bad?  How could I apportion judgement and blame onto anyone or anything?  If they were all potential experiences and lessons that could bring about so much acceptance, learning and love?

When Currawong and I finally got together, he was such an enigmatic and angry bastard, and had convinced himself through numerous situations that he was unlovable, that he was Faust.  And I was fresh from healing my hurts, and learning mammoth lessons, channelling the amazing book I wrote after meeting him, and in the prime of living in the moment, and seeing absolutely everything and everyone around me as perfect and me.  And lots of things happened between us that many folk would have found abusive, and he certainly was expecting me to throw accusations at him, but all I could see was another fear faced, and another lesson learnt, and how perfect he was to get to all those hard to see places where my fears had taken refuge.  I’d been through the desert on my Saturn Return initiation, and faced my fear of the dark, of being alone, of the unknown, of the heat, of the desert, of men, of so many things, but I hadn’t ever lost my sight, or my glasses, which I did when he stomped on them during a wild new years eve party at the end of 1999.  That was a deep fear and hidden hurt I’d had since 6^th class that I didn’t even know was there.  I tripped him out when I thanked him.   And when I was dragging him by the hair off the property after he went psycho during an argument, I realised in one crystal moment, that no matter how far I was pushed, and how angry I got, I would never kill someone.  Which was always a fear at the back of my mind, once I realised I had a volcanoe inside me from all my stored anger and repression as a child.  I thanked him for that one too.  And he got that one as well. 

I also realised years down the track that all the time I thought I was ‘healing’ Currawong, we were actually healing each other, and we both needed that time to learn how to let love in.   And that process has scaled all of our secrets, and all our dark bits, and all our hidden selves.  They all get accepted, and all get loved eventually.  Unconditional love can wreak miracles.  I’ve experienced it over and over again. 

So back to the story again, all this stuff was bubbling and boiling in the background, and I sat on facebook one day and used it as the oracle it is.  Threw out my nets to my friendship web and peered at what the deeps brought me.  And there was a theme that set me rattling off into stories and memories again.  And all my recent experiences, and our passionate discussions and revelations kinda swirled around the links that I stumbled on and  they all coalesced...........

Here was the first fish in the net.....

Then came this one......

This one really got me.....

And this one topped it all off

And here’s my point, that we’ve been walking towards here, and that you knew I was going to make.  Our western world in particular is so dedicated to our ‘godliness’.  Our ‘goodness’, and ‘white light’ and ‘pureness’ and ‘love’, and we’re so convinced that following the rules and doing the ‘right’ thing will lead to an eventual reward, that we’re all neglecting our shadow selves.  Our dark.  Our deep.  Our dead.  It’s like we’re all walking through life with these blinkers on, where we can only see the parts that we collectively sanction as ‘true’ and ‘right’, while behind those blinkers, in our collective blind spots, our shadow selves are twiddling their thumbs, and getting a bit bored, and making us act like puppets on strings cause we refuse to acknowledge they’re there.  We send them to ‘those’ people who are evil, and ‘they’ over there who do things that we just can’t understand, and have set all our dark selves loose on the world through our neglect to acknowledge and learn from and love them. 

And they’ve proliferated and thrived in the compost of our dirt that we refuse to own.  “I’m good, and I’m kind, and I love everyone, and if only you’d do the right thing, you too could be happy like me!” we proudly proclaim to the world, whilst our shadows are knifing each other in the background.  We’ve left all our nasty baggage on that great carousel, and they’ve slowly spread their hidden power to the neighbours.  They’ve run off to the Wizard of Oz, to make that Great Wizard even greater and nastier while the little man pulling the levers has been hiding himself from himself.  They’re snaffling schnapps in the boardrooms of the great corporations that are eating our world.  They’re metagasco making toxic wastewater dams on floodplains.  They’re dancing as the puppeteers behind every tradgedy and sin. 

And it’s time that we claimed them.  Owned them.  Loved them.  Learnt from them.  Sewed them back into our souls like Wendy did for Peter Pan’s shadow.  Let them blend with our white, and create lots of greys, and fine tune our pure, and add depth and dimension to our love.  When we pick up our dark children from childcare, and bring them home to ourselves, there will be no more room or energy for ‘those’ people to wreak such havoc in our world.  No more will we be able to hurt and harm our skin the earth, and our internal landscapes that we’ve endeavoured to domesticate will return to harmony, and a reflection of the bigger chaotic harmonies that exist all around us.    

From all of my lessons and life experiences, I feel that the very best thing I can do with my life and my love and my learning is to be honestly, truly, and completely me.  To follow the flow where it takes me, through overworlds and underworlds, and learn from everything that happens to me.  To acknowledge all my sides and potentials and understandings and respect it all for the broadness of view it brings.  To follow the thread of everything being connected to all it’s possible permutations.  To continue my endeavour to marry the worlds inside me and see their interconnection, and allow that interconnection and respect to translate itself through my touch and imprint on the cosmos. 

And to smile, laugh, love, respect, acknowledge, honour, beautify, empathise, and inspire as much as I can.

Cause it's all me.