Tag Archives: David Suzuki

Dancing with Speeches #17 Chief Seattle

Chief Seattle’s speech in 1854 in reply to the request from the chief in Washington to purchase the land.  The prophetic voice of first nations will haunt us forever until we learn the lessons aching in all the land and all the elements.  You can hear it here.

“If you contaminate your bed, one night suffocate in your own waste” is the echo we need to hear in my part of the planet.  We are considering to be home to nuclear waste and I wonder how can it be that the best idea we have for our struggling economy is to storage and hold these toxins.  David Suzuki urged us all on his last visit to Adelaide that we only take instruction from Aboriginal elders on whose land this facility is ear marked – is this any way to treat your Mother?

Before the contamination of the land, there is the contamination of the spirit and the mind that gives rise to the thought that having a nuclear waste dump  is a good idea. This is a dangerous and impure idea – one that will lead to more harm of our collective soul and the future generations of species including our own. What is it that allows our minds to go to this dark place?  Do we think so little of our selves? Can we not imagine our great grand children running around and sipping from the sun, dancing with joy of a new day?

Beyond the horizon of an economic forecast and balance sheet, lies a landscape ancient and new being shaped by the decisions of today.  This landscape will be revealed and is coming into focus right now, as we test the ideas and ponder on the thirty pieces of silver (actually $445billion apparently to flow into SA for at least 70 years if it goes ahead). The long term consequences of being contaminated by thoughts of short-term gain fuels its own cycle of destruction of spent ideas and depletes our deepest selves.  

Lift your gaze to the skies and see the stars – the Seven Sisters and Jakamurra – finding their way across the night sky to bring the new season of hope, refreshed thinking deeply connected to all those gone before who have set their eyes to the heavens and those to come who too will find their way home in the dark.

Feel the soft air of your mother’s breath as she holds you and nurses you to sleep and sings her song through the colony of casurina’s and sends a wave for the cockatoos to float down to their nests.

Be warmed from the ground up by the red sand trickling through your toes and reminding you there is no division and we all return to the earth one way or another – united even when set apart by the smallest of grains.  Yes, particle and wave are one in complex simplicity.

Follow the line of the hills as they meander between ridge and valley  calling us to the truth there are always ups and downs and each is a forecast to the other with lessons embedded for us to apply at the next turn.

Don’t be afraid to learn from the land and to ask for her help to discern and guide your steps – she is our greatest teacher, lover and mother.  If we don’t learn and listen, we may well be suffocated by waste.





Call and Response

The basic form of any interaction is call and response.  It takes centre stage in performances that begin in the cradle where the child smiles and we goo and gah back … or is it the other way around. Over the years the call and response might get a bit more sophisticated and spicy when you add in gender, sexuality and music.

There is an eternal question of whether we find our own vocation or it finds us – the master arriving for the student when the student can receive the master … and so the same call/ response pattern continues. So it is with our spirituality – does your practice find you? or  do you find your practice? Who has the call? Who is the respondent?

I sense Hildegard that the more I am open the more it is likely that I can receive and hear the call rather than make the call and have a response back from the UniVerse. One voice and a chorus response reminds me of what happens on twitter one message being re-tweeted to hundreds and sometimes thousands of others. Such a wild way of thinking about call and response in my time.

Hawken’s Blessed Unrest names and claims what so many of us are a part of, invisible and indivisible threads woven together by a common vision of a world that comes into being because of our collective, if sometimes dis-organised arrangements.

We gather in time and space, on line and off line, in the crevices and crannies of cyber space portals, making our mark and making a difference.  Unfettered by sovereign boundaries we say yes to our common values and there is what Hawken names as a collective genius at work birthing an alternative narrative to a doom and gloom future.

When I was CEO of Volunteering South Australia and Northern Territory one of the key points I regularly made in the public domain, was that when we vote we have a say for the type of government we want every three or four years, but every time we volunteer, we are voting with our hands and hearts on the kind of community and environment we want to live in and create.  I am limited in the number of hours I can volunteer in a face-to-face way these days, and after serving on community boards and committees for more than three decades, I am looking for ways to mentor the next generation. I am looking for ways to volunteer, where I can make use of the time I have, and the platforms I have to bring about the future that I envision.

In song, the call and response is a pattern of successive phrases taken in turns and where the first singer or musician makes the call and it is echoed by the second and so the conversation continues in lyric and tune.  The sophistication of verse and chorus is just another example of this pattern.  I send out a tweet and then there is a response from the twittersphere. Sometimes I respond to other tweets and I became the respondent to the call – the power of the re-tweet – a loud echo to the single 140 characters or less call.

This past two weeks I gave myself a virtual volunteering quest. I didn’t subject myself to any screening procedures, sign on with a not for profit, undertake training to do the voluntary task or be invited. I gate crashed my way into a virtual volunteering role.  I have always supported anything I can to bring recognition of Aboriginal people and to right the wrongs of colonialisation.  I haven’t done a lot, but I have contributed to actions and discourse over the years and maybe that account is for another blog.  You may recall my recent entry about identity, well I thought the best thing I could do is see if there was anything in the Recognise campaign I could help with.  On investigation and my usual online trawling exercise I saw that a film Vote Yes was being finalised and seeking crowdfunding for the last $20,000.  So I hopped on line and on board to see what I could do essentially through my twitter account (although I did use facebook, email and LinkedIn as well).

Each day for a couple weeks I have been tweeting about the film, shamelessly asking people to chip in and lend a hand with a donation, not out of charity, but as an act of solidarity and to inform the twitter sphere of the issue of constitutional reform to see Aboriginal peoples recognised in the Australian Constitution.

(I was nearly 9 years old when Aboriginal people got the vote in 1967. I celebrated when the Australian government said Sorry to the stolen generations in 2008 and was in the company of some very fine Aboriginal leaders that day.  I have been fortunate to have had instruction and patience from many Aboriginal people in my personal and working life. I am deeply grateful to their grace and what they have shared with me. I have a lot to learn.)

I have sent tweets to people as diverse as Lady Gaga, Fr Bob, Margaret Attwood, Malcolm Fraser and David Suzuki. I was amazed at who retweeted and who didn’t (for the record only Lady Gaga of the group above didn’t retweet).  I added to my knowledge of Aboriginal leaders and groups. I wasn’t afraid to be bold and ask for help and surprisingly celebrity /well known strangers did help out (please note Magda Subanzski and Rob Oakshott).

It has taught me a lesson once again that an invitation to help out is often valued and accepted – people respond to the call – but the call (the ask, the invite) – needs to be made.

So was I called and then made a response? Or did I make the call for others to respond too? Was it a mix of both? Was my gatecrashing welcome or just another sign of colonisation, this time of air space.  I was kindly welcomed and thanked and generously entertained by the custodians of the project who appreciated my enthusiasm for the greater good. Its the least I could do and the most I could do – to call and respond and respond to the call.

In my heart I know there is a dance going on – one where the caller and the responder share the lead and where the dance is on a wonderful tapestry where threads are woven together and sometimes the carpet itself takes flight and leads us to new horizons.

I was once told off at the Broken Spoke Dance Hall in Austin, Texas for not responding to the music a Texan Two-Step properly and dancing in an appropriate way. I may know the tunes dear Hildegard, but there are new dances to be danced and songs to be sung.  I will always strain to hear the call and prepare to be able to respond. I will also try and remain open to the call and when I need to be the call for others to respond remind myself that like you, I am trying to live like a feather that is blown about by the UniVersal breath.  Call and response is the foundation of reflection and action and reflection comes first in that binary equation.