It's all in the interpretation
Change is 'the word' of our times and even those
who stay rezolutely fixed in their opinions are caught up in it more than they would ever realize.
We live in an age of unprecendented interconnection that
breaks down all geographical and cultural barriers.
With this extraordinary expansion of our horizon comes new responsibility - to step outside our comfort zone
to search outside our traditional faiths and beliefs
so we can make right choices that benefit not just ourselves but our children and all future generation.
Many people now make a conscious choice to leave their comfortable inner city businnes behind in favour of simpler, softer, slower life.
In a land of clear water, unspoiled soil and deeply ingrained - 'live and let live' values, it is easier to understad...
that whatever is your religion, we all need to become more aware and conscious in how we live our lives,
we all need to learn to make the right choices,
because to make the world a habitable place for the next generation concern all of us.
After alll, these are our children and their children, the people we love more than anyone else in the world.
Whatever is your religion or you have none, the materialistic thinking rules our lives.
There is such a push from private industries and governments alike to buy and consume to improve our lives or for the sake of the economy,
that we have lost sight of what is really important in our lives.
We forgot what our forebearers taught us: 'You come into the world with nothing
and you leave it for the next one with nothing.'
What we need, first of all is clear air, water and food.
Then comes a safe place to live and a sense of security.
Then comes family and friends.
These are our needs.
The rest are wants. As we all know, today, we have few needs, but many, many wants...
As I write there is a steady drizzle and it is distinctly cold. Winter is here. Many find it depressing. I have no doubt.
But I love it and am enraptured by the beauty of the scene, an evening mist that lingers over the water.
Unfortunatelly, our society suports a very immature mentality when it comes to gratitude.
As we age we go through a process of thinking about me alone, me and my friends,
me as a part of family, me as part of society, me as part of the world.
Many of our top paid provessionals encourage the me, alone attitude. Those in the giving, underpaid professions, such as teachers and nurses are not valued.
My work with students has often highlighted their drive for the career,
and money they want as their main goal in life.
We live in a society that rewards people for being selfish
and we are overwhelmed with health, social and ecological dysfunctions,
we encounter every day.
Religions of the past don't give answers for today.
Nature is my 'church', it enables me to see
the world in its infinitive possibilities
.and shades of all colours.
I want to tell my children: "Whatever is your religion, the one of many...
the one of few..
or none...
don't see the world in terms of YES or NO
BLACK and WHITE
DO or DON'T.
Just as Buddhists say:
'The ability to accomplish is all in your mind'.
All love grows slowly.
Living a balanced life requires a long term commitment from oneself: to continuosly monitor, assess, and take actions on your values, beliefs and behaviours as they relate to your goal.
Whatever is your religion, or if you have none, exercising wise use and restraint in our consumptive beaviours and making the most logical choices that align with your personal values is part of our personal accountability to this, future generations
The mutual love of parent and child
that profound tenderness
warmth
and security
that the child feels
in your protective arms.
Life is so short,
childhood so brief,
it not only encapsulates
the love we all need,
but just how much better
we are
for receiving it.
You teach your children,
life is like baking a cake.
You have a sprinkle of choice
a dab of fate,
what are you going to make?
Then comes the time
of well-meant advice:
'Never take for granted
all the good things
that are in your life.'
Your child squirms in your arms,
but you continue:
'If you put some hard work,
good things would happen.'
A little salty kiss,
your child starts to cry.
A doctor
hands you
an unwanted
medical result,
cancer,
your youngest one
cannot survive.
A massive storm
in your house,
the roof collapsed,
you know straight away,
if you don't get wet and cold,
you have to build new one.
But there is no reason
as there is no hope,
and things changed
from that day,
everything
that was still and intense,
suddenly stopped.
There is life before
and life after,
you have been told,
your youngest child
never reaches adulthood.
Something inside dies,
you start grieving,
survival instinct saves you,
then comes healing.
You are reaching out,
grabbing on any piece
of advice.
You teach yourself
not to worry
about things
that may
or may not
happen.
Live day by day,
is the best plan.
You begin to suck
the life out
of each day,
appreciate the things
you wouldn't normally
think twice about.
Your elder kids look at you
and ask:
"Why does it happen to our youngest brother?
"How does he, how do we survive?"
You'd your share
of angst
in your life,
now is the time
to be open
with your feeling,
your children have the right
to know.
"Maybe we should pray,"
your daughter closes her eyes,
"Just like Granny used to do."
"To which God?"
Your elder son asks,
"Christian God, our Granny knew,
the Jewish God, our doctor prays to,
the Hindu God, our uncle believes in,
or to the Islamic God, just like our neigbours do?"
"There are hundreds of religions,
not just four,"
You sigh:
"Big, like Christianity
or just small just
the Aboriginal Aranda."
"Are they about angels?"
Your daughter twirls around,
pretending to fly,
"Granny used to tell us
those fairy tales from long time..."
"Some are old,
Hinduism began
about 3000 years ago,
and some are new,
like Mormonism,
and some religion have died
like the Ancient Greeks with their gods,
but all have tried to answer
BIG and DEEP questions."
"What questions?"
Both children looked at you
with their innocent eyes,
and suddenly you feel very small,
how do you explain,
the things you don't know?
Do our lives have any meaning?
How should we live?
Why do people suffer from illness and diseases,
just like their brother does?
Or do we just live and die,
here today and gone tomorrow?
Is this world we live in the only world
there is?
You hugg them tightly
and try your best:
"They are BIG questions
because
they are about everything,
and they are DEEP
because they go right down
to the basis of things."
"Is it true what Granny said,
that only in Christianity is truth?"
Your son asks seriously,
and you just shrug your shoulders:
"You will have to ask yourself
whether
one religion
is better than
or truer
than another."
"Maybe all those religions are the same
and it doesn't matter
to which God we pray,"
your daughter shakes her head
and claps her hands.
"But maybe it does,"
your son stamps his feet,
"we have to find out."
As time passes
slowly
by,
as your son
suffers
by your side,
your religious study
starts.
"About 4000 years ago
the Jewish people
came together.
They were saved
by a leader
called Moses.
God told him
that the Jews
were 'his chosen people.'
and led them to the land,
called Israel."
"We are not Jews,
I don't like that God,
it is not fair,"
your daughter stops to pray.
"Jesus Christ,
your Granny believed in,
lived in Israel as well
and he was a Jew,
am I right, Mum?"
Your son proudly says,
"I have learnt it at my Catholic School."
"His first followers were also Jews,"
You pats his head,
"Later on,
most Christians were non-Jews
living in Europe,
where your Granny was born."
"Was he really a God?"
Your daughter crosses her arms.
" Jesus was a man,
who lived and died
at the age of thirty-three in Israel,
almost 2000 years ago,
but he was also God,
they say."
"And he said
we must love
other people
in the same way
as he loves us,"
your son recites,
then he points at you
with victourous smile:
"But my neighbours say
there is only one God
and that his name is Allah."
"Christians learnt from Muslims
that we depend on God
for everything."
You beckon on your elder children to be quiet
so you can nurse your sick child.
When he fells assleep,
they beg you:
"Tell us more."
"Muhammad was an Arab,
who knew about
of Judaism
and Christians
and when he was forty,
believed,
that God spoke,
directly,
to him,
he called him Allah,"
You add
exhausted,
there is so much
you don't know.
"Uncle told me,
the best way
to know and love God
is doing good works
without expecting
anything
in return."
Your daughter suddenly remembers:
"He prays so much,
maybe he can save him."
"You can not ask for help,
silly,
you have to find your own way,"
your son shouts at her
and she starts to cry:
"I can, I can, I can..."
"Mahatma Gandi was Hindu,
we watched a movie,
do you remember?"
you say
and stand between them:
"True Hindus must be lovers of peace,
look at your youngest brother,
how peacefully he sleeps,
do you want to wake him up?"
They look confused at each other
and look for refuge in your arms.
"There was a Hindu in India,"
you start to tell them a tale
to calm them down:
"When he was twenty-nine
he suddenly became aware
that none of the things we love
can last
for very long,
people get sick,
they suffer,
they die."
"Just like our brother,"
your daughter starts to sob.
"He was so upset
he left his family,
gave up everything
and set out
on a journey
to escape his life
of suffering."
"Did he find it?"
Your son asks.
"He learnt
to stop himself
from wanting
or desiring things,
he became Buddha
and gathered a group
that followed him."
"What has he done to be happy?"
Your son asks again.
"He never hurt anyone,
he always told the truth,
he had also been honest,
never steal anything,
he lived as simply as he could."
"I like that God,"
your daughter says and prays to him.
"The Buddha was an ordinary man,
who found a way of escaping
from the suffering and unhappiness,
never claimed to be God."
You touch her shoulder,
but her eyes are closed
and she doesn't want to hear.
"But the Aboriginals
have been here
for almost 50,000 years
long before the Hindu religion began,
long before the Buddha was born,
long before Jesus Christ lived,"
You tell them.
"They believe,
at the beginning of everything
great Spirit came into the world,
in the form of men and women
and animals and birds,
and made and shaped
everything as it is now."
Your son says proudly,
"We learnt that in Aboriginal Studies."
"For the Aborigine,
the land of his people
is like
the Christian's God,
or the Muslim's Allah,
his whole life
depends on his land.
When an Aborigine dies
his own spirit goes back
into the land
where it came from
and it rejoins
the Spirit of which
it was a part."
You don't really deal
with loved one's death
until you accept
that it happened.
Losing a child
you could not avoid thinking
there was something
you could have done
You face
your youngest son's death
with your other children
at your side.
You mourn together
in the Christian's Church,
in the Jewish Synagog,
in the Muslim Mosque,
in front of the uncle's Hindu shrine
and under the Eucalyptus tree...
"His spirit goes back into the land,
where it came from,"
your daughter says
and your son touches gently
the red soil under his feet.
For all of you
the quest
for religion
became
the important part
of your life
.
Your children
keep growing
and searching
for the answers
to the BIG and DEEP
questions
and you pray
for any religion
or none,
to provide them
with a map for living,
to bring them
peace of mind.
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