BLOGGING NOW I KNOW HOW TO DO IT

Apologies for the haphazard blogs. I have suddenly woeked out how to put photos in and how to title each entry....

Sent from my Motorola ATRIX™

THE HONEYMOON IS OVER cont...

        The honeymoon was our introduction to this land and the way of life we are living out here.  When we started we were supported by large numbers and other than initial blisters we were high in spirits.  We have been walking on dirt roads along a song line that has been supported by a weight of thousands of generations who walked before us.  This energetically has fired our souls with inspiration and connection.
       We mostly spent days without seeing another vehicle; although the last few days we saw an increasing amount of trucks.  The country was abundant with such an array of desert flowers. Budgies and wedge tail eagles daily passed us by.  Each step of the way heralded something wonderful to see, smell or ponder.  We walked the Eagle Dreaming and our guides and elders that came filled our hearts to brimming with stories we could still see in the land scape.
       Our numbers are greatly reduced. Today we lose a family and I am crying already for that loss. The microcosm of life out here is a macrocosm, each separation feels so powerful because deep down we all know we are in the dreaming.  We are walking for a new dream to come out of our culture's nightmare.
       Our honeymoon is over. Now the hard yards. Real roads, trucks and traffic and single file.  We also have to navigate one another's baggage that is now getting aired. But we have the united intent to look further to our collective reason for being here and like any marriage, we are ready to get on with the living and the walking.  Honeymoons are only one part of an arrangement and our one has carved itself in our beings.

Sent from my Motorola ATRIX™

THE HONEYMOON IS OVER. Stage one has finished. Stage two commences tomorrow when we walk out of Leonora. We have just walked through one country and are about to enter another country. From Wiluna we had a guide, an Elder from the region, he showed us bush tucker, shared with us stories and land features; connected us with the dreamtime. We walked a song line together, with our children as the people around here have done since time began. We just have more stuff to pack up and carry! I am falling asleep so this must wait. Birds are singing nearby, though it is the middle of the night. Blessings.

FATHER'S DAY. We have walked hard miles this Sunday, thirty-five kilometres; walking started at six in the morning. It has been hot and the flies intense. We finally reached our camp to find our long march today has culminated at a camp full of rocks. Metaphores abound as this pilgrimrage steps up a grade to the place where people's stuff is coming out. My spirit tells me to regroup, find quiet places for myself. This evening I have just held my children close. And at that point I fell asleep. When I woke it was a full on pack up in the dark, we had to leave early, 7am and we were off. More than anything, I wanted to let the kids have a long lunch with thirty kms in front of us on a hot day with lots of flies, my motivation was sound.

FW:

WALKING TO THE BEAT OF MY HEART. We slept last night near a mine site. It's drone at first sounded like a very large truck approaching. The same sound has continued all night, without changing pitch or volume. It fills this quiet land with the persistant and relentless sound of a loud drone. There is no rhythm, no variation in pitch. It is monstrous; disturbing the surrounding land for miles. The earth itself now eminates this same persistant drone as our modern lifestyle merges together to form this cacophony of an unbroken roar that extends into space. We are desensitized through the process of vibrationally being bombarded by this relentless sound and vibration that energizes the modern world. One has to go a long way away from it to actually hear it. Or maybe not...maybe there is no need for the proof, there is enough indigestion in the pudding. As adults, our right brain does not like allowing in information that we can' t do anything with. Our thinking brain is so limited that it blocks the potential that we are. Our ability to love and feel can supersede this flaw. We can remember that Eve was framed and humanity was tricked out of our garden. We just need to acknowledge, without the attachment to what that acknowledging might mean, that this noise, this pollution and barage on country and stars, on indigenous peoples, is immoral and unsustainable. When we collectively accept this, God, Power, choose your own name; can transform the sickness into unimaginable possibilities. So under this dark and star spangled morning with a heavy plume of smoke just released by the mine curling above our camp, I sign off with peace in my heart and a cacophony in my head!

THE WEATHER IS OUR GUIDE. We are all sleeping together in one of our tents because it is the only one I could find a cover for when I packed. It is a tiny three person tent so us five are snug and tight together in here like fingers in a glove. Outside the wind presses hard against the western side of the tent in an impressive force. Today we walked our twenty six kilometers at a great rate with the building winds at our backs. By this afternoon our two boys turned Mick and Nicole's baby trailer and bike into a land yacht using the large peace flag. It was a spectacular sight and they raced past too fast for me to get a photo. Around this time the clouds on the western horizon mounted up, turning the sky many shades of gray. As I walked along in my donkey harness with the trailing last of the walkers, the temperature suddenly dropped and rain drops began to fall. At first they were barely felt, just visible on the road and with the wind like a "hurry up" warning we were ushered into our camp site. Our children worked like clockwork, together with each one doing this or that to get our tent up and sleeping bags in. Young Charlie also helped us and all around the camp everyone was hastily and efficiently helping one another. It has been evident that the weather has been responding to our group's needs. We have been blessed with all the perfect conditions as we have been moving through this country. It has been hot and the flies have been part of it all but, really, the weather has been there guiding us with it's messages. The indigenous peoples were not the only ones who took signs from the weather around them; sailors, farmers and anyone who works in the elements knows to varying levels of understanding that we affect the weather as we are affected by it. Our culture of logical thinking does not put much stock by such musings. We lose much sensitivity and therefore intelligence when we reduce life to a logical process. My writing is not intended as critisism of our culture. My intention is to expand our culture's vision through the splicing of ancient knowledge. I have intentionally, since the conception of my first child, set out to fish and farm this precious knowledge by living simply on the earth with my young family. This ten week walk through this desert country to Perth, walking away from uranium mining, is the pinnacle experience of all this seeking. This is where I learn to soften and surrender while our children experience the bounty of living in a community that daily works together.