There comes a time when you realise that your life has real purpose. I took me sometime to get there. All those years I was starving my soul, my spirit or what ever you want to call the subconscious of emotions. I spend much time thinking about life, and equally thinking of death. I don’t know why I do, I just do. I’m surrounded by evidence of both. I guess I could have my eyes closed, I could dismiss the things I see, but I cannot. Observing all the details of nature’s system is just a part of me.
Some mornings I walk the dog up and over the hill. We steam up the mountain, I pant, pushing myself in an effort to improve my fitness. With my clumsy arms waving in a hurried motion, I pass evidence of both life and death. Ahead plump rabbits will scurry for cover, ravens and magpies craw and squawk in their ugly manner, eagles and hawks graceful in glide, wings and feathers stretched out like fingers. At my feet animals lay dead, hit by speeding cars. The remains of their once magnificent bodies gorged open often lying in horrid pose, disfigured by the event of their death. Grasses dry from the harshness of summer, display a pale tan hue, whilst neighbouring paddocks glow green from constant irrigation. There is no escaping all these signs of both life and death.
I follow the track home. Most mornings in summer I head straight to the patch to water the plants. Again it’s there, signs of life, of nature. Green aromatic leaves on healthy tomato bushes, bright yellow zucchinis in flower, climbing beans twist and tangling their way up towards the heavens. It’s a world that makes sense to me.
When I see my daughters in that world I feel very happy. When we pick some food to cook, I make sure I take some time to give thanks to what I have. Where I am. I don’t say it out loud, I mumble away in my head.
When I leave that natural world, when I head to a city or a large town, I’m witness to an amazing contrast. I am not going to explain what that contrast is. But it’s obvious. I know we can’t all live in happy land, where nature abounds, fluffy happy rabbits sing songs of joy and birds rest on our shoulders to whisper sweet nothings in our ears. I’m aware that cites are cities, and that not everyone in them has access to nature. I do however believe that little elements of that stunning natural world can be identified, nurtured and cherished. Those little elements of nature that have powers to mesmerise us, to enchant us, to make us ponder.
I am not a man that is backwards in being forward. Often I lack the patience for politeness, and I’ll say what’s on my mind. Lately I’ve been displaying signs of anger and frustration. I make no apologies for that. There is the potential for a beautiful world out there. Tear away that curtain of bullshit, wash off the stains of fruadulant living, celebrate that real world that has been providing for us since we’ve existed. This is why I’m angry. Because I can see that beautiful world being treated like a 2 bit whore. I see the unnecessary, the extravagant. I’m sure you can too. Do we ignore it or look away? Or do we examine it, be intrigued by it? Question it? Do we simply accept it as it is, a reality as harsh as that gruesomely twisted carcass by the roadside? I choose to make change. For the sake of that child of mine, that innocent child rummaging in the leaves of that natural world, that real world, where she searches for her dinner.