Beginning the Spiritual Journey

 The questions that come up these days is ‘where did this all begin?’, and ‘what was the impulse that has driven you to ‘here’?’

Rage, frustration, impotence, hatred. I guess these were the driving emotions that took me out of the city. I just couldn’t take it any more. I felt the whole world was driven by lies upon lies and it was killing me. It was like I was frying in my own outrage.

I left university to live as a caretaker on a farm in Nagambie.

While I was there I wrote a lot. Asking myself questions, trying to come to some kind of peaceful resolution. Just trying to live.

I don’t know what I thought would happen. All I knew is that I had to get away from people.  I had to have space in my head. I had to have space to breathe.

Then one day, the world changed. It’s when I had what I took to be a revelation. The things of the world really did reveal some sort of underbelly, or inner quality that I had never guessed at before. I saw what seemed to me at the time the deep reality of the situation. The interconnectedness of all beings. The ultimate Oneness of all.

And in that moment, there wasn’t more to do about it. It was only later, when I started thinking again, that I created a story around it.

The experience itself was quite simple and heartbreakingly profound, but the story I created, the meanings I started coming up with were ridiculously complex.

During the last 6 months, I’ve returned to the simplicity of the experience. I’ve dedicated my living to returning to direct experience and allowing it to unfold without interpretation. To let it penetrate my being without labels and without a story.

Its like nothing I imagined. I kept thinking that it has to be a certain way, that I would need to be able to describe it and that I would need to be able to teach it. But its not like that at all. It’s a funny thing, but there is nothing to teach. It’s more of an unteaching. A removal or a returning of some sort that takes place, but there is no need to express in the way I thought there would be. We’ve already got the thing we are seeking. Now how to express that to a society geared towards attaining? That’s the rub.

Of course, that is part of the prologue too, isn’t it? Well, I’m going to discover something in spirituality, and its going to fit a pattern that I’m familiar with in some way. Its going to fit my ideas. And when it doesn’t, its almost impossible to believe or trust.  It really is easy to overlook. The simplicity of Being.

For more information, you can listen to Adyashanti talking about ‘life without a story’ in one of his free audio downloads. Take a look at the Adyashanti link on the sidebar.  He explains everything much better than I can. 

Photo: Canyelles, Tiffany Jones

Canyelles, Tiffany Jones

India, Albert Vila

Diana Laufenberg: How to learn? From mistakes | Video on TED.com

Diana Laufenberg: How to learn? From mistakes | Video on TED.com

Swamiji's Practical Journey Through the Yoga Sutras

This is copy and pasted from Swamiji's Website.  

Yoga Sutras by Swami Rama

Adya and Tolle

Entertain Us

Jett and I were sitting in a café.

‘Oh look,’ I said, ‘a man out on his balcony.’ I pointed up at the man. The man was only in his singlet. His hair was greased back. I noticed that he was exceptionally skinny.

Jett said ‘He’s only in his singlet.’

Then I started to notice that the curtains were partially closed behind him and he was holding something in his hand. He looked back inside the dark apartment, called to someone and then he started to flick at something that I realised was a needle.

‘Oh.’

Now, I felt a rush of horror, but again, I thought, well, the addiction to drugs, is addiction to sensation. I was drinking a coffee. As we left the café, I saw cigarette butts crushed on the pavement. We walked past cola machines and cigarette machines and some women walked past with shopping bags, then we passed a group of teenagers decked out like pop stars - and we are all following sensation. Different levels. Different needs. But the same need. More excitement. More stimulation. More entertainment.

When I hear this same tune in my head, I hear Nirvana. Every time.

I feel stupid and contagious.

Kindness, no strings attached

I’m so tired of one hand giving while the other hand holds a list of clauses that go with it.

Somebody offered me something. Then, when things didn’t go as they wanted, they took it away.

I felt a sudden horror of dishonour. But, then I searched my own nature, and I’m sure I’ve done it too.

Given something, even a smile, and expected one in return.

How often do we really give? Honestly give. Give with out no thought of what someone is going to do with that gift. No thought of return. No thought of consequences. A true gift of love. How often do we give without a silent but heavy back pack full of ‘buts’?

So, instead of laying in bed and thinking negative thoughts, I will slowly turn myself into the person I wish other people were. I invite you to come with me. One day at a time – to give with true kindness, no strings attached.

(and honestly - I don't mind if you don't do it! You're off the hook for this one.)

The Eye of Ra

What's your experience with this symbol?

The Planets In a Spin

I read 'energetically, this period between the Solar Eclipse on July 21 and the Lunar Eclipse on August 5 feels like we're in the lobby, bags in hand, waiting for our hotel room to be ready' and it was like 'pop!' in my head.

Things have gone haywire lately. The world has turned upside down. I have suddenly the most free time on my hands in about three years, and all of the projects I have been waiting to do - are still not being done.

I feel exactly like I'm standing in the lobby, my bags in hand. Just about to, but not...

I felt some of the tension drain out of my body though, because well, if its the stars and their spinning - what to do about it?

Accept, breathe, enjoy, relax, surrender. It's all ok. Thank you Pam.

(and thank you to Kristen for sending Pam my way.)

(ps - yes, I do know that the moon is not a planet or a star - but is such a great picture!)

Wearing Cross Cultural Clothes

~the whys and therefores

About me (contextualizing my comments)

My name is Tiffany Jones.

My Australian-born parents are a mixture of Welsh, English, Scottish and Chinese heritage. I have lived in Australia, Japan, Norway, Denmark and Spain. I’ve travelled to thirty countries.

I wear clothing I’m comfortable in and clothing I like. (I know its not the same as everyone else and still, I’m happy to be comfortable rather than fit in.) I’m a believer in discarding clothing that I identify with negative experiences or makes me feel negative towards myself.

Questions on Cross Cultural Exchange (why I wrote the post)

Last week, a friend of mine posed some questions about cross cultural dressing. For example, why decorate the face with Bindi’s if you are not Hindu, why dye your hair a different colour if you obviously have black hair, why try to be whiter if you are naturally dark, why do white girls have cornrows sometimes, and why do some Asian people surgically ‘round’ their eyes to be more Caucasian. Why not just display your own heritage and be happy with that?

These questions are not exactly in the same category as cross cultural fashion, but they do point to an opinion many people hold that consists of ‘what you are, is what you were born as, so stay that way and don’t mix your creativity with others’.

Because our image, the way we present ourselves, the way we dress, adorn and paint ourselves is a creation. We can create sloppily, or with high skill, with little thought, or with great care. Its a creation.

Who Decides What We Wear?

The fashion changes have often been brought about by necessity. The changes of women’s fashion were the greatest during war times when material was in short supply (so skirt hems went up), or because women started working (trousers and clothing with more freedom of movement).

We’re inspired by what we see on TV, in magazines, on the street and by our friends. The images that we see are created by fashion designers from across the globe. We are wearing and buying clothing that other people design, and we choose from these designers. (Designers are typically the first to admit that they are inspired from other culture's interpretation of clothing.)

Denim Jeans

I bought my first pair of jeans when I was 30. I hated jeans because I thought they were ugly, heavy and common. Everyone wears jeans. I changed my mind because at that time in my life I wanted to be common. I wanted to be just like everyone else. And jeans was a way to feel normal.

And ‘normal’ my dear friends, is what we see, mostly on TV. What we see on TV comes from North America. Teenagers in Norway, Australia and here in Spain are highly influenced by American TV and American fashion. What do teen queens wear? Jeans and a cutsie little top.

The story of jeans is a classic example of how fashion travels. The material, Wiki states, originated both from Genoa and India in the 16th century for sailors. In the 1800’s, were being sold in North America for factory workers. In the 1950’s, they were popularised by teenagers in North America. So, who owns the copyright or national identity of jeans? The Genoese, the Dhungaese, or the Americans?

So then, if I go to India, and I wear a Punjabi suit (suitable since Hindu’s and Muslims living in India are typically modest) I am cross culture dressing. Perhaps its acceptable in India, but if I wear it here, in Spain, or in Norway? What do you think?

Do you think ‘ahh, that girl can’t wear that, she’s not Indian?’

But what if I wear the pants only, and a singlet? And a bracelet? Then, am I being a ‘hippie’ or am I cross culture dressing or perhaps you didn’t even notice since the pants are in fashion at the moment.

And what if an Indian person wears jeans? Are they disregarding their culture for that of the Americans?

Accepting or not accepting the fashion of different cultures seems to be based on how often you’ve been exposed to other culture’s ideas of fashion or not.

The pants from the Hill tribes of Thailand are in fashion right now in Spain. Every tenth female is wearing them. Its fashionable and I can tell you right now that most of the females wearing them do not know where they come from. They just like what they look like. They are, in short, cool.

Does it matter?

Really?

Where do shirts come from? Who has the right to wear them?

And if we really want to get picky, can only Italians eat pizza? (God forbid)

Everything is personal and nothing has a blanket answer. There is no right or wrong. There can certainly be ugly and attractive, but we all know that admiration is in the eyes of the admirer.

On a personal note, I love Indian clothing. The colours, the freedom of movement – you can eat what you want and the top is big enough that your stomach doesn’t show its bulge, its elegant and protective from sun and wind and more feminine than any pair of jeans.

I have never felt as comfortable as I do in my favourite blue Punjabi suit.

Other opinions are heartily welcomed.

Why do we teach our children lies?

Why do we teach our children some lies?

I was teaching my son Jett, 9, about months of the year and seasons. A friend complained that what I was saying wasn't really true...

We live in Australia, and we have lived in Norway – so the seasons are varied in both…. So how to teach seasons are different….. there is no rule?

It was a moment of confusion for me, strange as it may seem, because I taught, as a child, that there were four seasons – and the four seasons each had three months to play their part in the full year.

We teach our children little lies because we don’t bother to question what we’ve been told. Not always.. I’m sure you can think of times when you realised a ‘truth’ and it changed how you spoke about and referred to the subject.

That happened to me with sunsets. Once I realised that it wasn’t the sunset that created the beautiful light, but actually, the earth turning… I thought, well, why don’t we say ‘earth turns’ instead of ‘sun sets’…. Its just a reminder that we think we are the centre of the universe.. ego centric.. earthcentric… and nothing could be further than the truth….

So – we tell little fibs because society accepts them as ‘truths’ – and if I keep pointing out to people that it’s the earth turning, not the sun setting.. then they will be irritated with my pedantic nature and probably not want to be in my company for long…

So – we tell them for society’s sake…

And the months of the year?

English heritage told us what the four seasons were; April as the cruellest month and June brides are part of our (Australian) understanding of life… but its not the truth..

When we were in the Northern Territory, we found out that the traditional caretakers of the land acknowledged 6 seasons, depending on the cycle of life around them- including rain fall and the flowering of plants. It’s a bit more realistic to follow these patterns, if we were close to nature. But today, to say to someone, I will meet you at the first big rain, when the giant figs are bursting with flower doesn’t seem quite as sane as September the 4th at 4pm.

We teach our kids lies cause some lies are convenient and make our life a bit easier. I’m not saying it’s the right way to go for the future.. we need to ‘challenge everything’ – as the saying goes, and keep our feet rooted firmly in a nice balance of truth and humour… what say you?

Thus Far

Guidelines Thus Far

Self Knowledge

Explore

Open Mind

Open Heart

Acceptance

Love – of self, of others, Love – of all

Non judgement

Kindness

The Cache Syndrome

The Cache Syndrome

Humans suffer from what I would term the ‘cache syndrome’.

In effect, it means that ideas that have been formed in the past become lodged in the mind. These ideas seem to be coming from an indisputable main memory. However, the ideas are only coming from the cache. A temporary location to store ideas that have happened in the past that will help us to live in the future.

The problem arises when we forget to occasionally clear the cache and we accept the formed ideas as concrete reality.

An example of the Cache Syndrome
When Lisa was a little girl, her mother told her that short hair suited her best. (The mother said this because she had four daughters and she didn’t want to have the trouble of maintaining four manes of hair every morning and night, not to mention her own)
Lisa grew up with the idea that short hair suited her best. This idea went into her cache. And there it stayed, without review, until she was 35 years old. A friend of Lisa commented that she’d never seen her with long hair. As Lisa began to say ‘but I look so much better with short hair’ it occurred to her that she, in fact, didn’t know how she looked with long hair, so she wasn’t sure.
This was the beginning of Lisa emptying the cache of information tagged ‘Lisa looks better with short hair’.

The cache syndrome effects all of us on some level or another. Sometimes for quite insignificant ideas, and sometimes for ones that can hurt us for a life time.

Cache’s worth clearing
Any part of your life that brings you unhappiness, disappointment, frustration or anger – its worth taking a look at the ideas surrounding your hurt.

What do you expect from your relationships? – do you still believe what you believed before? Has your ideas changed? And why?
What does it mean to be successful?
How much do you need to ‘own’ before you are ‘happy’?
When is ‘family’ time?
Children need indulgence, not independence. What’s your ideas? Where do they come from? Has life changed you since you were a teenager, or do you still hold the same beliefs your parents gave you? Is it time to review them?

Good luck in your discovery.

Who am I to tell you how to be human?

I’ve been consciously studying ‘how to be human’ for since 1985.

I was 14. I'd just received a call from my parents telling me that they wanted to be together, without me, so from now on, I now lived with my grandparents. Say what you like, it was the best thing that every happened to me. It was the first grand attack on my value system and forced me to face myself and my beliefs at an early age.

It began as the study of survival.

My survival.

Know thyself – According to Pausanias, these words were inscribed in the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.

Seek and ye shall find – attributed to Jesus of Nazareth in the Gospel according to Mathew

The cause of all pain and suffering is ignorance - attributed to Siddhartha Gautama, The Buddha

Patience, discipline, strength – words I came across while studying Qigong

These words have been the pillars of rest and contemplation in between my moments of chaotic searching.

So I started my adult life cut off from human society.

I feared people.

I was afraid, vulnerable, secretive, unhappy, self condemning, judgmental, selfish, arrogant, disdainful, bored, uncaring, in pain, alone, cut off, ostracized, vindictive, ignorant, critical, hateful, and scornful.

I was afraid of people, of dying, of the future, of the past, of another's opinion, of the ruin of the environment, of societies view of me, of other’s judgment of me, of being poor, of my parent's alcoholic and anti-social life style.

I was vulnerable because I imagined the world considered me as less – it made me sensitive to criticism, snubs, blank faces, negative interpretation, conspiracy theories – my self image was poor, I felt ugly, plain, I felt worthless.

I was necessarily secretive because I felt that nobody would understand what I was going through. Nobody had parents who drank, that stole from the rest of society, that were poor, and sometimes rich.

Everything I have discovered, from this point of pain and rejection, everything about ‘being human’ comes from my experiences.

I didn’t feel human before. And I wanted to become human. I wanted to discover what it meant to be human.

I am a living experiment.

I am a product of my exploration of what it means to be human.

And then I realised, that I am you, and you are me. And all of this 'me' talk, was actually about us. You, my brothers and sisters. Its about us, and how to manage our life together.

There are many points to consider. Social, political, economic, spiritual, educational, environmental. But first and foremost, all dialogue begins with you and with me.

Much love.

My relationship the symbol of ANZAC

“My relationship to the ANZAC” in response to the question ‘what is the meaning of ANZAC to you personally?’

Its not so simple. Its all tied up to a certain ‘coming of age’ experience I’ve been avoiding for most of my life.

For more details of what happened, you can read it here – http://dragonflies-draw-flame.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-i-lost-my-innocence.html

Basically, after running for 35 years of my life, I discovered another shade to the meaning of responsibility.

I wanted to engage in an aware, responsible, adult relationship with my country. I wanted to become a contributing member of our society. Someone who put their action where there bad tempered mumbling once was.

Though, when it came to the idea of ANZAC, I had to revise what I had previously thought.

I remember marching when I was under 6, drumming in the early morning parade for the local RSL. You had to be quiet for a whole minute. And stock still. While the drum sticks wanted to keep drumming.

I recoiled from ANZAC day parades as I grew older, seeing them as a celebration and reminder of aspects of white Australia that I didn’t like.

Racism, aggression, short sightedness, ignorance, blindly being pawns of political power, mindless Aussie cheering, arrogance united with stupidity.

Here I am, on my rediscovery of Australia, ready to reveal a new meaning for ANZAC day.

I don’t want to take away from the past. I want to try to understand, in the context of the times, the motivation, the patriotism, and the feelings of sacrifice associated with war. I don’t want to judge people for what has happened. I just want to say I remember, I’m sorry for it, it’s a SHARED history and it has made our present. We need to learn from the past and forge a new path to move into the future.

We were in the Cloncurry Library when I picked up a book entitled The Last ANZAC’s. Lest we forget, written and photographed by Tony Stephens and Steven Stewert. In it, I read words that gave me hope and inspired me to write positively of my new understanding of ANZAC day.

The Last ANZAC’s.

Doug Dibley ‘It does deem to be to be a peculiar world in which we live when we can not think of any other way of settling disputes, without murdering one another.’

Tom Epps ‘The are not days about the glory of war or about Nationalism, but a lesson in the futility of war. I was brainless, but I’m not sorry I went. It taught me how stupid the politicians and military can be. They were boneheads. The 1914-18 war was a mass murder. 99% of war is stupid.’

‘If there is no other way of settling arguments, the human race should be exterminated.’

Roy Kyle ‘Empires come and go. Enemies become friends, friends become enemies. Everything changes. Little lasts.’

Roy Longmore ‘They’re no good, these wars. A lot of lives lost, no use at all. There’s got to be another way of fixing up these rows without killing each other.’

Ted Mathews (famously) ‘Some people call us ‘five-bob-a-day’ murderers, but the politicians were the murderers. Politicians make up the wars. They don’t go to them.’

Jack Buntime – His ‘early life taught him the value of the family’.

Alec Campbell – He ‘insisted that all his children receive good educations and grow up to think for them selves’.

Just as a child grows, so does a country. Just as we mimic our elders, so does the country look to older models as a guide on how to be a nation. And just as the child grows into adult hood and develops the need to express itself in its own way, so does the people of each country. And we have the voice. We have the freedom, if we choose it, to learn from the mistakes of the past, and to create a new way of ‘settling arguments’, ‘fixing up rows’, ‘settling disputes’.

We can learn. We can shake our head to our parents and say, no, I don’t want to follow your footsteps any more. Our parents might threaten us, they might bully us, they might take away our privileges, but it’s the right of a growing nation to take the blows happily, knowing that every step it takes in a new direction, on its own, it gains freedom and learning and respect.

Its ok to admit we were wrong. Its ok to start again, to try again, and make it better this time.

But learn from the past we must. Don’t let their lives be a waste. Learn from what they have said. Find new ways to talk about our differences.

And it starts with you. And with me. Violence in the home, in the school yard, in the work place, in the pubs. Commit to ‘another way’ to settle arguments. Explore channels of communication. What works? What doesn’t? How many people have to die because they should learn their lesson?

Their history is our history, weather we take heed of it or not. I just want to say I acknowledge what went on, and I’m sorry for it. Our combined understanding and voice can make a difference.

The above was written as a response to a personal query I received. I have used edited material from a previous post http://journals.worldnomads.com/allwelcome/post/18563.aspx I wrote earlier this year.

Passion and Ration

Some guidelines for dealing with the passion with a dash of ration.

“The unfortunate thing about passionate subjects such as patriotism is that some people can tend to become defensive if they perceive their values are being attacked.” *

Let’s admit it. We want everyone to agree with us and to believe what we say without criticism.

Then we get a little more experience, and discover that the ideals and the beliefs we held so dear when we were teenagers, have, thankfully, been toned down with experience and a better understanding of the complexities of life.

Age is a high price to pay for maturity.

Some points to consider before engaging in discussion

1) Are you offering your opinions so that other people can discuss them?

2) Do you just want to have your say?

3) Will you be offended if someone disagrees with you, or offers another opinion?

4) Why are you on a group called ‘debate’, if you just want to shout from a megaphone?

5) ? I’m sure there are lots of other points and you are welcome to point them out.


What are values?

Values are the things we hold dear to us. They are valuable. They are the words we say when we see our friends and family in dire straights, when we see injustice on the TV and we suffer over because often, they don’t really mirror the reality of the world we live in.

Values undergo change, depending on how much money we have, depending on how much we want it, depending on what our friends think, depending on what era we are born in, depending on, well, many things.

If values can change so much, where is the inherent truth in them, and why do we give them so much importance?

If we can perceive our values are attacked, we become defensive. Its true, isn’t it? So, if we know, that our values have changed in our own life time, and would have changed depending on if we were born a Turk, or born a German Jew in 1925, if you were born in any one else’s shoes other than your own, then… we can see that there are many things that can attack our value system, and no wonder we feel so defensive all of the time. Because everything is challenging us all of the time. Isn’t it?

So, how can we win?

By being aware. By being tolerant, and realizing that not everything can be won by screaming. Screaming it louder than anyone else doesn’t make it right. It just makes it annoying.

Discussion, where there is a civil volley of response, is ideal. Sometimes I serve, some times you serve. Sometimes you floor me with an ace, and sometimes I bamboozle you with technique. Its all ok. Its just words.

Remember, you can’t shake hands with a clenched fist.

Comments welcome.

* Written to me in private correspondance

How I lost my innocence

For some reason, I knew that traveling around Australia was going to be the breaking point for me. Perhaps that’s why I left 12 years ago – to avoid the mantle of responsibility.

I’ve traveled around little pockets of the world, but I didn’t see how its existence was my concern. It existed before me. It was doing its thing without any interference from me. I was just taking a look.

I’ve heard the stereotypes about Australia. The legend of Steve Irwin. The horror of our creepy crawlies. The wonder of Kylie. Aussie girls rule. Oh, and aren’t we a racist lot?

I keep trying to pin point the exact moment everything fell apart. The sudden jolt of awareness that shifted my perspective and destroyed my unadulterated joy in shopping, in music, in eating, in driving in a car, in relationships, in the meaning of life and the purpose of my existence.

Of course, there is not just one point… the more I look at it, I can see the seed being sown some 20 years before. The seed has just outgrown its case and needed a different nutrient for its growth.

About two months ago, I read an essay written by Edmund Burke. In it, I read these words

‘society is indeed a contract …. It is not a partnership in things subservient only to the gross animal existence of a temporary and perishable nature. It is a partnership in all art; a partnership in all virtue, and in all perfection..... each contract of each particular state is but a clause in the great primeval contract of eternal society, linking the lower with the higher natures, connecting the visible and invisible world…..’

I threw the book down. I felt my head burning. I turned to my partner and started yelling obscenities because I felt abused, robbed, shocked and outraged.

I was reading Burke because C.W. Parkin wrote ‘Burke … believes that the world is a unity, that society, for all its complexity, its heights and depths, forms part of a harmony of nature.’

I’m researching members of the different educational disciplines who view our world through the perspective of unity.

A great part of life consists in contemplating what we cannot
cure. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Burke’s words horrified me. To my way of thinking, it was inferring that the unwritten contract, that I was even unaware of, existed between me and the society I was, errr, mostly a bored, and at most, a disdainful observer and occasional mumble-complainer.

Me? In a contract with society? A relationship existed between us? An unwritten contract? Something that was just a given? Passed on from generation to generation? Why didn’t somebody spell this out to me? I spoke to my mother, and do you know what she said?

‘I don’t understand what you mean. If its not a written contract, its not worth the paper its written on. You can’t even tear it up. You’re talking tommy rot and you’ve been taken for a ride.’

But now I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth. ~Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum


I look at her with a feeling of doom, I take a breath, and I explain the idea of an unwritten contract in words I hope she will understand. The ‘taking for granted’ of certain things in personal relationships. The unspoken rules in relationships governing mother and child, father and son, mate and mate’s girlfriend. Maybe we don’t speak about so often, and usually its not written down, but the ‘rules’ exist. The contract between you and your spouse, or you and your parents exist weather its written or not.

And the idea of validating an unwritten contract between myself and society just hadn’t occurred to me before.

It knocked my socks off.

If your eyes are open, and you suddenly see what you couldn’t before, do you just ignore it and keep doing what you were doing before, or do you throw in the towel and stand up to the line?

Throw in the towel of ignorance is what.

Stand up to the line of responsibility is what.

It reminded me of the moment I knew, for sure, that I was pregnant. I’d never liked children and thought of them as repulsive little snot filled terrorists. But when the double stroke glowed that vomit inducing pale pink, there wasn’t, for me, a moment to contemplate ‘ignoring it’. I couldn’t. My life changed for ever. My attitude changed for ever. I could no longer be as selfish as I was. It was a foul swing at my short sighted selfishness and cured me of some stupidity. But it was tough at the time. I felt I’d ridden up against a brick wall.

Now it seems I’m ready to go the next step into the wider world. Me and society.

Stepping up to the line. Accepting responsibility for my half of the contract.

I’m still pulling at the bit. I’m still trying to find the balance between my sense of duty to what I feel I have discovered and just wanting to toss it all aside and live in Thailand somewhere getting massages and swimming in pristine waters… What am I doing? Why do I care?
And this brings us back to the first seed, and the beginning of everything.

I was 14 when I was left with my grandparents for a holiday. Two weeks later, my step mother calls me and tells me over the phone that now I’m living with my grandparents.

The grand illusion of childhood is that your parents, no matter what they do, are right and good and, this is important, know what they are doing. That is, that they are conscious of what they are doing.

We all know that we don’t know what we are doing, but a child probably feels safer if they believe we are some sort of semi-god.

All of us suffer disillusionment in stages we’re not conscious of, or in one giant dive.

I couldn’t maintain the illusion any more. I lay in my fold up bed in the lounge of my grandparent’s house and bit by bit, all of the repressed information I had about my parents burst upon me in a flood.

The one thing I judged them on, and am still their greatest critic, is their lack of responsibility. So, of course, if I judge another for not being responsible, how, if I am faced with information that increases my responsibility to the world, can I ignore it?

For me, its impossible.

So here I am. Signing, in my own way, my side of the unwritten contract between me and society.

I wonder if society knows what it has unleashed?

I have approximate answers and possible beliefs and different degrees of certainty about different things, but I'm not absolutely sure of anything, and many things I don't know anything about, such as whether it means anything to ask why we're here, and what the question might mean. I might think about it a little bit, but if I can't figure it out, then I go on to something else. But I don't have to know an answer.... I don't feel frightened by not knowing things, by being lost in the mysterious universe without having any purpose, which is the way it really is, as far as I can tell, possibly. It doesn't frighten me. ~Richard Phillips Feynman

Why do we need to control our emotions?

‘But I want to feel alive. I want to feel the emotions course through me. I want to be taken away.’

The Chinese doctor shook his head, almost imperceptibly pursed his lips, handed me some herbs and shooed me out the door.

I think of that moment with a mixture of amusement, disbelief and embarrassment.

Amused with my youthful insistence on defending the rights of uncontrolled emotional impulses.

Disbelief that I could be so naïve.

Embarrassment that I didn’t take shut my mouth and just listen.

I had booked the appointment with the doctor because I was suffering migraines. I was 17 and dependant on anti-depressants and prescription headache prevention tablets. I was taking 4 different tablets a day.

I knew that I was in a bad state, at such an age, and I wanted an alternative.
But when I went in for advice, I didn’t listen. I just defended my own choices stubbornly.

So, what have I learnt in the last 20 years?

Why is control of our emotions important?

Generally speaking, we can put the emotions into two groups. Emotions that enhance our feelings of wellbeing, and emotions that destroy our feelings of wellbeing.

Enhancers Destroyers
Happiness Sadness
Delight Dissatisfaction


Then, we can think of emotions that enhance our wellbeing of the moment, but later on, we feel regretful and often curse our stupidity. There are examples to the contrary, but they are a handful compared to the majority of stories I have heard.


Positive Emotions that usually fall through with time
- In love sensations
- Excitement linked to gambling, drugs, any obsessive behaviour.
- Patriotism when inspired by a moving speech but time shows was just a vote catcher.
- Happiness related to retail therapy

Now while we can never be really sure about the final outcome of the emotions we are experiencing, experience guides us to take it easy, and not follow your heart in all cases.

Sometimes there are emotions that make us feel bad at the moment, but after some time, the effects of that emotion actually enhance our life quality.

Emotions that destroy us temporarily, and can lead to life enhancement
- Guilt
- Regret
- Embarrassment
- Hitting rock bottom leaves us only one place to go (if we do not give into the temptation of suicide) – up
- Anger


Again, its about exercising some control, some ration, some wisdom.

Every situation is different, but if we don’t temper our emotions with the learnings of our experience, then we remain a victim of our emotional swings.

Emotions can be wonderful to ride them at the moment, and they can cause us deep regret.

Observing our emotions, understanding our triggers and endeavoring to exhibit some control is, in my opinion, the necessary work of responsible people aware of the importance of relationships and communication.

A great story about anger - http://magazine.byu.edu/g/?act=view&a=152

I’d rather lose hate than weight - http://theuniverseandhumanstupidity.wordpress.com/

Why do we lie to our children?

.

Story telling and its original purpose


Mum said ‘When did your parents tell you that? Were you at a young age, were you putting things into your ears?’

Albert had just retold a story about a relative finding a bead inside of his ear, after suffering weeks of pain.

My mother’s obvious conclusion was that Albert’s parents were trying to teach Albert a lesson about not putting things into his ears. In other words, she thought that his parents told Albert an untrue story that would help him to live a life free of ear pain induced by putting random objects into his ear.

Today, we don’t really tell our children these kind of stories. We are more likely to tell them ‘facts’, like eating too many sweets will produce plaque and thus more visits to the dentist and subsequently more pain.

It doesn’t seem to be having much impact on their sweet intake, but it makes us feel like we are not lying to our children, that we are being informative and educational, not like our superstitious parents forcing us not to walk under ladders and something about throwing salt over the left shoulder.

But what was the original meaning behind the stories we once told?

I was recently traveling around outback Australia, and I came across informative centers where I read many stories where animals spoke and lessons were learnt about how to take care of the land, and how to share water and the consequences of not heeding the lesson of the stories.

Some Australian Indigenous groups are amongst the oldest surviving nomadic peoples in the world. They had a relatively untouched (by outside influences) culture until only 200 years ago, perhaps leading us to a broader understanding of how societies emerged and evolved over time.

I saw on the TV an indigenous program where an older male was repeating stories to a child (of about 2 years old) about someone needing help, and the elder repeated ‘give away your things’, while simultaneously wiping the child’s palm away from the body.

I don’t have a lot of research about this topic, but even if we look back to our own childhoods, some of the stories had a moral purpose, like ‘The boy who cried wolf’ and 'King Midas'. They were not true stories, they are what we term fables or fairytales, and they were told with the preposition that what we tell children should help equip them for an adult life where one’s behavior will have consequences – don’t tell lies or people won’t believe you anymore. If you only chase after gold, in the end you’ll end up only with material goods and nothing else.

Today we don’t have a lot of time for stories. Today we tell facts. We tell facts about tooth decay and eating to much will make you fat and if you don’t study you won’t get a good job and we dress our children in designer wear so that they’ll fit in to a social group and we indulge there need for brand sneakers (because we understand) and we leave them in front of the television for the stories we used to tell.

Imagine. Sitting around a fireside, listening to the deep voice of your grandfather while you are gently held by your older sister, or your mother. You hear a story about helping each other in times of need. The story has drama and passion and everyone’s face is lit up with the light of the flames from the centre of your family and friends.

Imagine. Sitting around a television, listening to canned laughter and the nasal intonation of a smart mouthed teenager girl dressed in the best designer jeans you’ve seen. You’re alone because everyone else is watching their own TV in their own room. You hear a story about a boyfriend sleeping with a best friend and how a gun man terrorized a school in a state in North America you didn’t know existed and still can’t remember what state it was. The story has drama and a certain irony because you knew that the boy wasn’t to be trusted and the gunman was probably being ignored at a girl at his school and there is no one beside you on the lounge.

The television is telling the moral stories our children are listening to.

How many times have you though ‘I wonder where he/she gets that from?’

You know where. The TV is teaching our children the values of our society.

Its teaching the glory of the United States of America. The glory of the mighty dollar. That status is in brand names. That self value is dictated by how pretty, thin, and rich you are. Its teaching the value of short term pleasure over long term happiness.

We used to lie to our children to encourage them to be safe, to help them in social interaction, to enhance their wellbeing.

We lie to our children now that we don’t have time for them. But we have 30 minutes to browse on the internet. We have 30 minutes to indulge in our favorite magazine. We have 30 minutes for our selves. Then we let the TV do the rest of the talking.

My secret

I have a plan.

A plan to shock and shift the values in our society.

I am researching the commons in our unity. The fabrications, the illusions, the positives, the negatives.

When I have a handful of strings from the diversity of thought from systems like politics, economics, psychologists, scientists, I will draw them together and weave a strong rope.

These strings will represent the strong undercurrent of sweeping social change I can feel emerging with every beat of my heart.

We will focus our energies on the things we have in common.

- Our belief in making decisions based on our long term happiness over short term pleasure

- Our commitment to understanding our responsibility in our position of affluence

- Our belief in living our ‘ideals’ – authenticity

- Our commitment to humanities future through caring for and forging stronger, supportive relationships to our children

- Our understanding of the environmental crisis we are facing with countries such as India and China desiring to consume as much as we do, and understanding our entire system needs overhauling if we are to survive

Take a look at www.wellbeingmanifesto.net for more ideas.

Why?

Because we are ugly. We are superficial. We are disillusioned. We are depressed. We are alcoholics. We are drug addicts. We don’t care. We try retail therapy. We try binge drinking. We try buying more. We numb our brain with TV, computers, sex, romance, music and more shopping. We try screaming. We try not giving a damn. We try to blind ourselves with the flag. We try to drink more. We are angry. We are sad. We can’t believe it . We hate life. We are hurt. We can’t go on. We go missing. We want to escape. We are chained. We are hypnotized by the TV telling us that we must be young, pretty/handsome, rich. People disappoint us. Politicians disappoint us. We laugh so as not to cry. That we must buy this car, this mobile, this hairstyle, this magazine. We try divorce, we try to be single, we try to suicide. We hate our friends and our families. We think the world sucks.

And it does. It really does.

The only way to stop it, is for you to stop it. The only way.

Stop the lies, the deceit, the hurt in your own soul. Turn off the TV. Use your internet time with thought instead of feeling ‘trapped’ by it. Its all up to you.

And I believe in the power of you. I believe it, because the alternative is too terrible for me contemplate. I am blind. Blinded by my faith in humanity. In its ability to grow and develop and learn from its mistakes.

And all it takes, is for you to believe too. And then, I am a we. And we, together, can make a difference.