Category Archives: Spirituality

Don’t Frack With Me.

I can never fully concentrate with a big ticking clock in the room. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Over and over and over, until I have to take it off the wall and confine it to the spare room like a naughty child in need of punishment. I was trying to think of the best way to start this post, and now that there is silence I have figured that an annoying clock is perhaps not my problem.

It’s usually best if I just cut to the chase. Julian Assange.

Yes, that’s it. That’s my whole chase.

But, seriously.

I was quite fascinated by “Underground: The Julian Assange Story” that was on Australian T.V. recently. I never really looked into Assange, and just passively absorbed whatever information was around me on the subject, so it was interesting to discover more about where he came from and ultimately what he was truly about. I never really knew anything about his background, or what he stood for…

Or that he was totally badass and shut down a NASA space launch…

Anyways, it got me thinking that, when it comes to uncovering the truth and holding governments accountable for their actions, one person really can make a difference.

Ah, inspiration! And upon following some random ‘Free Julian Assange’ campaign link on Facebook, thus followed my tiny rampage, signing any online petition I could get my mitts on, and that, of course, I believed in, fully and wholly.

It was all very well and good, playing activist from a comfortable seat on the couch, yet I wanted to do more, I wanted to get amongst it. So, BAM! Activate marching powers! Off to an anti-CSG rally! Quick, to the protest-mobile!

You mean your mum’s Honda CRV with the frangipani flowers on it?


Yes, mother and I did set out to join the uprising, to speak out for the oppressed, to protect the environment, the land, the water, to fight for all that is right and good in this world!

All that enthusiasm, rip roaring and ready to go. And then, and then, we end up in the wrong town. Ah, Northern Rivers, you little scamp you, with all your similar sounding place names. Never mind, we did get there eventually. Not without the shame of doing about three drive-bys of the wrong show grounds, wandering why they were empty. Sigh.

Anyways, we didn’t miss the rally. Thank goodness. No need to fret. I did get to stop traffic, chant, and all that good stuff, amidst a yellow sea of about 5000 people, stretching a kilometer long. “Protect our water, protect our land, no CSG, united we stand”.

Now, I could go on and on and on about what we were protesting about, but as I aim to keep these blog posts under ten bazillion words (I do enjoy a good exaggeration), I’ll tell you in short:

Big, ugly mining companies want to frack awesome, viable, beautiful agricultural land of the Northern Rivers for Coal Seam Gas, for no reason other than money, and in doing so will poison water tables (that are interconnected with everything and even reach Sydney Harbor), give children itchy rashes, hurt the farm industry and pretty much a whole bunch of other evil stuff…

CSG mining has the potential to be the biggest environmental disaster ever in Australia. You may read more about it here. Every Australian should be aware, because it will affect all of us.

Anyways, Armageddon aside… let me focus on the positive. Because all that wonderful, loving energy is what gets shit done. What I mean by that is, we must see the outcome as what we want, not what we don’t want. Don’t let the corporate machine get you down, man. Lend your voice. Join the campaign. Maybe even go to a rally. If you please.

After all, if anything, being surrounded by people who care about their surroundings and the planet is quite uplifting, and so is the music. In this case there was music. And an MC that liked to talk a lot about the 60’s…

Yes, indeed, transport me to Woodstock baby, I am your flower child. Only in my mind of course. I’m not sure that I’m quite the free spirit that hippy lady with feathers attached to her arms was, having some orgasmic trip-out, flowing and growing to the psychedelic tunes of a Jimi Hendrix tribute.

Me? I’m quite happy for a little swaying from side to side, rocking my ‘Don’t Frack With Me’ t-shirt, a phrase I was quite chuffed could also double as a subtle nod to Battlestar Galactica, so, I’m obviously more comfortable embracing my nerdy-ness rather than my hippy-ness.

Yes, I must learn to let go. I must learn to flow with the go and go with the flow and all that jazz. I also must learn not to judge my mother when she tells me that she saw Pete Murray backstage, like she was some sort of star struck school girl, swooning over how mightily ‘hot’ he was.

Calm down woman. Yes, from where I’m standing, he may appear to have piercing blue eyes, luxuriant dark hair and a voice like smokey honey, but you must contain yourself. And yes, I may, on the following night, dream about asking him to be the father of my children, but seriously, have some constraint, lady. You can’t possibly be in love with the man…  Even if when he takes off his sunglasses, it’s like the black and stormy clouds parting and revealing the dazzling, blue heavens above. Honestly! I’m pretty sure he looked straight at me whilst singing, and I think I may have died, however, we must not lose our cool…


Anyways, the moral of the story is, if you can scrape one out of the barrel there somewhere, …Your mother sharing her fangirl moment with you will always be awkward and confusing.

No, wait.

The moral of the story is: One person can make a difference. A movement is just a whole bunch of individuals coming together. So, don’t be afraid to stand up, speak out and always, always remain groovy.

…You know, If you want to.

Oh, how I struggle to navigate these soapboxes. Take me off before I hurt myself.

Speaking of suppressing alternative energy, I will be continuing my short story “Shelter From the Reign”, here somewhere along the line. And I will never give up subjecting you to my work. The dream will live on! And you will eventually cripple under the weight of my relentless barrage until you finally surrender and say you like it! (is it just me, or did that have some seriously dark, sexual undertones?) Never mind! 

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There’s an Ewok on my Bed

This, quite possibly, could be the laziest post in the history of this blog, and quite possibly, the most insightful at the same time. Not because I’m trying my hand at a Dalai Lama impersonation, but because you’ll get a greater insight into what I’m about. The laziness of it? Well, these little musings below are just what I scribble down in times of boredom or waiting for videos on the internet to load. I just put my orange, green, blue or purple (amongst other colours) pen to paper and write down whatever inspires me. Usually I just ramble, lately that ramble has crossed over into the rhyming variety.

Yes, don’t run away. I’m going to say it, so please calm those tenth grade English flashbacks. Poetry. The most personal thing you could ever share and I’m about to, right here for all to see.

These two little ditties are about the one thing in my life that appears constant and unwavering, you know, besides my family, my spirituality. No, I have not been smoking the special stuff…that was yesterday. You see, I kid about this because I’m delaying. So whaddup angels? This one’s for you, you crazy cats.

I write to express myself
To release my worries
And not store them on the shelf

This is what brings me peace
and some sense of calm
Speaking with my angels
Those who keep me from harm

I believe that they are always there
To guide and watch over me
To help me dream and love
And teach me empathy

I am never lost, nor hopeless
Never alone, nor afraid
I feel them standing beside me
For they have never strayed

Give me the strength, let me live
A life free from fear
One where I’m free to give
Openly and honestly
Without limit or grief

… and this one’s for you universe

Waiting here for life to begin
To fall into the vortex
And embrace all within
To conquer fear
Frustration and sin

To fly amongst the universe
Through the ups and downs and traverse
Over the illusions made by man
To see it all, everything I can

To feel the light inside of us all
To take great risk
And still stand tall
To aim as high as possible
Unafraid to fall

To hold destiny in the palm of your hand
To spread the word across the land
That you are god, and so am I
I call upon angels on high
To see beyond the earthly lies

Well that’s it. I call it free verse to avoid any such ‘rules’ of poetry. I built it up too much didn’t I?

PS. Another one of my subversive titles – but there actually is a stuffed Ewok on my bed. He’s keeping Simba company…

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It isn’t really the end of the world…

In true Hollywood disaster movie style, the end of the world comes with its fair share of tornadoes, tidal wives, floods, freezing temperatures, fire and brimstone and comets raining down from the sky. In one of Hollywood’s latest, 2012, the destruction of the entire planet is in synchronicity with the end of the Mayan Calendar, the 21st of December 2012. I, for one, don’t believe that the human race is going to be swallowed up by the earth in a succession of earthquakes and volcanic explosions on such particular date, but I won’t discredit 2012 as having no significance at all, either. Continue reading

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