St GEORGIA & Boo

out beyond the ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing there is a field.. ill meet you there. Rumi

recent posts

  • have we become nomads?

    " here are the laws that rule the world that you made. and yet they govern nothing and need not be broken, merely looked upon and gone beyond."
    A Course in Miracles; The laws of Chaos

    where do we go from here?

    it would seem that we are no longer living in times that we can plan for. It would seem that the whole surface story of humanity has been fractured. We are in wavering times, spaces we cannot foresee for ourselves, for our children, for our children’s children, who are still in the midst before the calling forth. We are being asked to navigate ourselves within ways that are uncomfortable and confronting. Ways that challenge what we are really ‘seeing‘ and what we are ‘seeking’. What is it we are really seeking anyway? It seems all these paths that this world would have us take, everything that it would have us care about, or rage about all lead towards the same outcome, separation. A fracture within ourselves and between each other, who ever the other is. Maybe that’s not how it really is. Maybe we are not ‘seeing’ correctly. What if our error in seeing has been leading us astray? On paths of seeking that all lead to the same place, the same outcome just disguised in different clothing. Sometimes it seems to fit, sometimes it’s even likeable, most of the time though its meaningless and less than what we are wanting if we really think about it.

    Maybe that’s what this world is built on, a false prophacy, false, meaningless notions of stories that we as human spiecies have been following and unwilling to see it for what it really is, which is meaningless nonsense. Maybe within all the orchrastrated chaos we are ever so slowly begining to see the errors within the naritives. Maybe, we are begining to question what is before us, for its becoming so senceless and so irrational that even us as a species who have held our hearts open and trusted the greater collective of the story being told to us are no longer feeling like it holds any Truth whats so ever. The questioning now, leads us to question everything. Is it possible that its all been an error of infiniate proportion and it could possibly have been leading us away astray, away from the Truth the whole time. 

    "It is the purpose to make meaningless and to attack the truth. And yet they govern nothing and need not be broken, merely looked upon and gone beyond.
     - A course in miracles, The laws of Chaos

    maybe,

    There are only two real paths.

    Maybe we are not flooded with endless choices of a multitude of paths to take towards a peaceful life, contentment, or even just the idea of a safe life. maybe its not really about seeking ‘out there’ at all, maybe that’s where the trickery is, keeping us in the continuous flow of ourselves in the doing under the pretense that some how and one day we will arrive. It keeps us thinking there’s some where to get to other than where we are standing. That we are not already perfectly in our own being until we get ‘there’. We think that there is a place we come to, where we will look back upon our lives and say we made it. Somehow though, i don’t really believe there is such a time, not in that way anyway. I think even if by some chance, by all those accounts we did ‘make it’ i have this feeling that it wouldn’t be what we are expecting, we wouldn’t feel the way we imagined, and if we did it wouldn’t last. i believe that there would still be a sense that something was missing. That all those paths are not really the one we were ever meant to be on.

    Maybe there isn’t so many choices, really not from higher perspectives. maybe is quite simple. we can chose to live in fear or in faith.

    possibly, there is nothing more than this.

    maybe there is nothing really out there keeping us from feeling what we are ultimately wanting to feel, and to know, what we are all really longing for is..

    The Truth.

    What if its not where we are, the circumstances of our life, what we witness with our eyes or hear with our ears. Maybe those things are the effect of what ever we have going on within, our fractured separated selves, and us as a whole disheartened collective abiding under false laws. Maybe what i think about matters, not just for my own mind space but for yours as well. Think about that for a moment. What if what i think about, believe in, hold true, effects you and every other living being in this world?

    Would you move differently? I would want to be blessed. I would bless you. 

    "the holy instant is a time in which you receive and give perfect communication. This means however, that it is a time in which your mind is open, both to reciev and give. it is the recognition that all minds are in communication. It therefore seeks to change nothing, but merely accept everything."
    -A course in Miracles

    what if the pain of this world is not really ‘out there’, but more so is in our minds, and it would be as simple as accepting this as Truth, and choosing differently.

    maybe that’s the trickery. keeping us so busy within, so disconnected from each other, so distracted, so encased in fear and terror on the outside perspectives that it becomes almost impossible to look any other way. we don’t even think that there’s answer to this anymore, and we can’t fathom that it would possibly reside within us..

    could it be that simple?

    "the laws of chaos can be brought to light though never understood. let us look upon them calmly that we may look beyond them understanding what they are, not what they would maintain. it is essiantial to understand what they are for because it is their purpose to make meaningless and attack the truth."

    what if these laws, that have built this world is a false notion of infinite proportion. what if nothing is really stopping us from residing in truth, that any barriers are just false illusions and so long as you notice, and you can quite simple move beyond them.

    there are only two paths.

    fear or faith.

    some would say it should be fear or love. but i’m not sure we can really understand love from these perspectives we are in. so many errors are committed from places of love. Faith is necessary. Faith is in the higher understanding that we really know nothing at all. Faith keeps us humble, it places judgment where it should have always been, not in our hands.

    i understand it’s hard to choose faith within the horror and that maybe somethings are just too much to ever be graced in such ways. its not really about what’s deserving here. maybe we were never meant to hold such powers of judgment at all. maybe that was never meant to be ours to carry. there is no distinction in error in this way, its all the same, as long as we are participating we are not in the Truth. the story of who is right and who is wrong is a never ending one, it keeps going, its a false notion from all stand points and we are stuck in its loops.. but we needn’t be.

    We can notice this. We can move beyond. We can “forgive our brothers, for they know not what they do. “

    "the first chaotic law is that the truth is different for everyone. like all these principles this one maintains that each is seperate and has a different set of thoughts that set him off from others. this is a heiarchy of illusions some are more valuable and therefor true. Each one establishes this for himself and makes it true by his attack on what another values."

    this is difficult to ingest. We are a strong defiant species even in our nomadic states. We are taught to stand by our truths, ‘individually’, we hold them firm, anoint them under our own personal power, what’s rightfully ours, we fight for its sovereignty and condemn and attack anyone who challenges anything in the contrary. its the human way, the patriotic way, the sporting way, the religious way, the governing systematic way.

    but,

    what if its all the same? What if its all false notions, we are lost within a thinking landscape that wasn’t created by us, or for us? what if all it is holding together is the constant fight, attack, of who’s right and who’s wrong, a perfectly orchestrated chaos, keeping us so far away from each other, so conditioned in how we can relate to one another, how we are to care, to love all the while holding each other at a distance in places of judgment.

    "It is a judgment that defends itself, condeming what it says it wants to save.
Be not deceived when madness takes a form you think is lovely. What is intent on your distruction is not your friend."
-A course in Miracles

    no, that’s not for me, not anymore anyway. from this nomadic space, i will stand in Faith and only Faith. There is no fight outside of my own mind. if i pass you by, may my mind be only filled with blessings for you, for what i want for you, no matter your story, is peace. and maybe if you, in that moment are blessed, you will know it, and bless another when you pass them by, no matter their story. may we understand that there really is nothing that we know outside of this space, and to bless another is the only power we have been blessed to hold and all that is necessary in Truth. everything else is just meaningless nonsense.

  • sanctum

    “Give them a place of refuge, prepared by love for them where once a desert was. And everyone you welcome will bring love with him from Heaven for you. They enter one by one this holy place, but they will not depart as they had come, alone. the love thye brought with them, will stay with them, as it will stay with you. And under its beneficence your little garden will expand and reach out to everyone who thirsts for living water, but has grown too weary to go on alone.
    Go out and find them for they bring your self with them. And lead them gently to your quiet garden and receive their blessing there. “

    a course in miracles – the little garden

    i should not attempt to see the whole picture from the smallness of the space i stand in. its far too wide for that. but i can know that its there, that its taken care of, already decided and complete in essence. Faith. That's where we are existing. There's holiness here. a holy story that involves so much more than the eyes can see. sometimes it feels like a secret, present and persistent in its making of our miracles, hidden in the mountains, but forever a continuant in a field of light streaming out and over this tiny valley, down rivers and roads and inevitably covering an entire planet. In what could be only described as an holy instant. it seems that possible, even from this tiny spec of a place I'm standing.
    i wonder in the quiet of the mornings before the familiar noise of the farm wakes, could this be the purpose for us here?, perhaps my purpose in the making?
    maybe, i am a mother. of children and goats. maybe we are secretly running under the guise of a farm but really we are a holy space for Gods work to be done.
    i don't need to sit on a mountain top, and fast, and meditate until i lose all sense of my body and human existence to know that i can meet God right here. my body is a vessel, it is not who i am. i can shovel manure and build a garden bed, and tend to sheep and goats and have my mountain top insight. holiness is in everything. that's what the teachers have shown me.

  • mary

    “All goes onward and outward..and nothing collapses.
    And to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier.
    Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born?
    I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and i know it.."
    walt whitman
    -leaves of grass
    she is still here. her body suffered, im not sure why it was to be this way for her, but she knew she would have to let it go. i can feel her, with the others, in my thoughts, on the tip of my tongue when i call out her name but im meaning to call someone else entirely. she's here, in the unseen spaces and with the others that have suddenly noticed that there's a little more space around or perhaps an empty one. 
    She is one of three who came to us. Her sister had already passed before she had time to be here. Seeing how Marys story has unfolded its most likely from the same condition that our Mary finally surrenderd to. We brought her sister home anyway, said prayers and buried her here.

    saying goodbye takes time. it lingers, for us and for them, if your paying attention you can see it in the unfolding. I have begun a tradition of putting bells on our friends, it began with Mary, before she passed. Her leaving was not sudden or unexpected, it was a decision made between her, me and God. So there was time.. time for preparation, for thinking about the process, of leaving one place to unfold into another. i felt like she needed a calling forward, as there was a feeling like something was not yet complete on her behalf, or maybe it was mine. a simple bell tided loosely with banana twine hung around her neck, so they would hear her coming. i lit incense of myrrh and frankincense, to clear her path, blessed her in anointing oils, but really i'm seeing, it is i,  who has been blessed here.

    The bells are like a whisper, a calling to God, something to join them while they are in their bodies and perhaps not.

    why cant the parting be simple, a divine letting go.. a simple slipping out of whatever this is really is?  why cant it be beautiful, a celebration of sorts, they are showing me that, my teachers here, masquerading as four legged ones.  nothing that is real, really ends as Whitman so famously noted,  'all goes onwards and outwards and nothing collapses.." wouldn't surrendering to this just feel like grace? to know deeply that this life, here, is so very temporal and anything that means anything goes on and on. that part feels more real for me than any ending does. my beloved mary showed me that.

  • pondering.

    “blessed is he who has crucified the world and who has not allowed the world crucify him.”

    book of JEU

    we have this way of accepting the path.. the way things are placed before us, where necessary intriguing questions are not being asked, possibly not even being considered. we occupy spaces that hold the way we are told they are supposed to be, without ever wondering of why? i want to be taken to those spaces and may i be unsettled in the straightforwardness and commonality, may i revel there, and possibly be a little disrupting and disorganising.. may i pose something other than this from spaces of something more, something that requires we be brave in knowingness and place our strength in something much higher than this limiting world story.

    “..to make space for the otherwise; to help in the partial recuperation of our vital connections with land, place and people; and to live a small, intimate life. “

    Bayo Akomolafe

  • finding sanctum in higher hands

    we live on a property. its been five years, that’s not a long time for this kind of life, on this kind of land. usually its the kind of place that’s been held onto, passed down, kept close. neighbours are known by the generations before them, fourty years of settlement in one place, one space of land, doing things a certain way. We are not part of that tribe, we are not farmers like that. I’ve never lived on land or owned land what ever that means. we have come with no real ideas of what we should do, no intentions, no goals set to be put into a forward motion. we simply arrived, and the story began. theres naivety and innocence in our big venture. a clean slate of no preconceived ideas on how a life like this should look from the outside. we had absolutely no idea of what managing a property even meant.

    “…One of the first physiological responses after entering natural environments is sighing, a sign that the linear mind is slowing down, the sympathetic tone is relaxed, and our awareness is on its way down from the intellect to the heart. Buhner notes, that the Greeks had a word for this; aisthesis, which literally means 
    “to breath in”
    -Sajah Popham  

    if i was to tell the story, its almost hard to believe, i still look around and are in awe of how its played out. there was no certainty in anything, nothing to rely on from the perspective of what was in front of us, nothing before us saying this is how you do this life. there was no guide book leading the way. No, our survival and happiness was going to require that i go much deeper than that. i would have to breathe her in. every step to arriving here, every interaciton, every conversation was all part of a larger plan that i had no idea was playing out. i was trusting something else, far greater in the knowing of everything. every action was one of faith, moving not on the rational, irrational perspectives of the surface space of ideas and notions of what we should or shouldn’t do. or off what i may be physically capable of handling and holding on my own. i was trusting this force, this quiet whisper that kept saying your on the right path, keep going, ive got you. everything looked like a crazy move, too risky to take especially with young children and no husband to do the heavy lifting, when things fall apart. but ive grown up knowing that isn’t really where my strength rises from. No, i was moving with grace, with ease and God.

    after five years, i can see a there is a plan for us here, for me. its still not clear, its still in the unfolding, but i have some glimpses now of where it may be going, and it seems its not what i would have anticipated at all.

    there will be no surface success story arising from here, no big money making schemes, no using anything as a commodity, not land, not animal, not human. No success cannot be valued like that from this place anymore, that part has become perfectly clear. theres something much deeper than that happening. it ruffles the feathers of people, to see us moving this way, without a plan, or intention to use what we have for that kind or purpose. but it seems to me that those kind of ways of moving with things is slowing changing now, moving from places of fear like that seems old, used up, and untrustworthy and not what is required of us anymore.

    everyone that has arrived here, is meant to be here. no one will be moved on, or rehomed. this is a final resting place, for how ever long the duration is, that’s not for me to decide. the animals all arrived by some larger plan, it wasnt my plan, i simply left the space open for divine interference. slowly they arrived, never more than we could handle, and all perfectly timed for what ever healing was required for us and them. the dance began.

    it became clear early on, everyone residing here, has come on purpose. not to be used or taken advantage of. this is hard for people to understand, they cant see that to sacrifice them on any level would be missing the mark. the opportunity that dwells withing the layers of the seen and unseen, is so much wider than the stories we have always lived by. there’s something more subtle to be grasped here.

    and even though i cannot see the whole story, it doesnt really matter. what i can see is that, its more sanctuary than farm. more monestary than sanctuary, if i am truthful. everyday begins with God, surrendering to what ever the plan is, without needing to know the details.
    if i was to even try to stay in control here, without leaning on the greater force that i innatly know is there for us, i dont think we would have made it. i dont think it would have worked, it would have been just too much.

    every step here was orchestrated by something far greater than thoughts arising from that place. if i was willing to move myself from there, that place of fear, the story would never changed and i would have stayed in things that were no longer for me, for the sake of a story that wasn’t mine. no, its better this way, nothing is certain, nothing is decided from me, im willing to be moved divinely, i’m willing to be held by higher hands in higher truth, now.

  • there’s unknowable wisdom within the gaps

    it sounds crazy, I know. some people are just too far away to hear what I’m saying. that’s alright. Gaps are there, they always have been, ive always walked a little further ahead with these sorts of things.

    they know before I know. they know when someone is arriving. they know what to make of their character, if their intentions are true and trustworthy. they know whether or not they should be on guard, or disappear for a time. all i know is they know from places that we are only beginning to understand for ourselves. They are teaching me to pay attention, to what’s unfolding before me, sometimes before the experience even happens.

    the horses know when their farrier is coming, its five weeks apart. they know, they ready themselves. they make themselves available at the gate, understanding that this is what we do for them and we will reward them with deliciousness for their cooperation. they know before i know when she cancels the day, due to weather or something. they wont be there, close by, or they will have disappeared altogether, having us walk the land to find them and bring them back, only to find out what they apparently already knew. we give them treats anyway, say our sincere ‘sorry’s’ for going to all this trouble and not being as on it as they apparently are and let them go off again, leaving us always feeling a bit silly.

    we have so many story’s, so many times that we have seen them behave strangely, or odd in some way, or stand guard in ways that have made us stop and watch and pay attention. too many to not notice and see the invisible threads of deep knowing at play.

    they have all come for sanctuary, it doest resonate straight away with them. sometimes it takes time, with goats its weeks, sheep even longer, horses, well they work through their traumas for years, sometimes not really letting go until their second or third year, some traumas never really go. we pay close attention to those.

    we have seen how trust plays the most important role. it comes before love even. they are usually so guarded, all defences are up, they come frightened but that part usually subsides fairly quickly when they see that their are others here. we keep everyone close, they trust them before us, i get that, i can never really know the details of what has played out for them the way the others can know, but i can usually come pretty close i imagine, by the look they carry in their eyes.

    some traumas are best left in the unspoken places, in silent prayer, for Gods healing only.

    ive come to trust the ones who have come to reside here, for safe healing, for sanctum, sometimes i trust them more than my own guidance. they seem to see things that im not yet able to, or possibly unwilling to see in the moment. it plays out though, and becomes ever so clear that they always knew what the story was way before the happening unfolded. it leaves me feeling somewhat bewildered but makes me smile.

    i wonder why, we as humans seem to be so far away from them still, why we keep the gaps so wide between life, us and them, hierarchy ourselves, us and them, and each other. we are so aggrogant in our ways, thinking our use of words makes us more intelligent, when most of the time its just excessive noise, nonsense of a mass proportion.

    this life, the one playing out that seemingly has already been decided for me, is humbling. i like that my teachers speak to me in subtle ways, stretching my heart to move in unknowable spaces. i like that to understand what they are needing from me, i must pay attention, i must be truthfully offering myself otherwise they see straight through me.

    there were times early on, that i wasn’t so clear on these spaces existing between us. when i missed it, the subtle arrangement that i hadn’t yet understood. i missed the moment, the exchange of deep understanding that something big was about to play out. i wasn’t paying attention, i wasn’t present in space, in time, in my own mind. and the moment would come, usually hitting me straight on, like a slap, and in an instant i would understand, i would get it, and it would sometimes seem too late, like a soul passing, a friend was leaving and there were possibly things to acknowledge, prepare for, but my mind would be else where, any where but where it needed to be, which was right here, in this breath or their last.

    but even in what seems like too late, or a missed moment, there’s still space. there’s space for prayers, space for inviting God in, asking for forgiveness, for somehow missing the signs, knowing that in the truth of everything that is really real, there is no space between us all anyway, even when the breath has seemingly left the body.

    sometimes, its easier for me to feel what they are really wanting to convey from those spaces, as strange as that may sound. sometimes these bodies are like mismatched furniture, inconveniently placed around a room stopping you from reaching each other for real connection. theres always a gap of some sort, a table smack in the middle, human to non-human, human to human.

    closing this gap, the seemingly existence of a space between, is what is unfolding here. we offer them sanctum, the promise of a life to be of their own, lived freely. we do this for them and ourselves, and although it could seem like they are getting the better end of a deal from far away perspectives, where the gaps are great, i assure you they are not. i assure you that for everything we give of ourselves to the complete devotional care of them, is tiny in fraction compared to what they are offering to us, from the unseeable spaces of knowing.

    they are the teachers, i am merely the student and realise that in the grand scheme of things.. i really know nothing at all.

  • the god in everything


    this part is new for me.

    balancing within the holy, in times of chaos and the anticipation of knowing that nothing is what it seems, and discernment is fundamental in any forward facing moment.

    “the holy relationship is a phenomenal teaching accomplished, it represents the reversal of the unholy relationship. Be comforted in this; the only difficult phase is the beginning.

    For here the goal of the relationship is abruptly shifted to the exact opposite of what it was .

    A course in miracles

    I have asked for my relationships with everyone and within everything to be Blessed and Holy. I have asked and sometimes found myself pleading when it comes to the universal space of my youngest son. For the space of him has changed so dramatically that it is almost unrecognisable to who I have known him to be before this moment, to who he seems to be existing here as now. It’s a questioning space that we find ourselves in. Him and me. It seems we represent some opposites, some conflicting ideas and notions of things, actually of almost everything and a relationship at this point can at times seem unhealthy, and unholy in its essence.

    It could seem that its not good for him or for me. It could seem that it shouldn’t be this way, this hard, this confronting in the details that can at times reach way outside the lines that we think are there, the ones that keep us both safe and comfortable and in a place of what we would consider to be acceptable and at times can raise hard questions, the kind that you could never have imagined having to ask yourself, its usually in the thick of something big and you wonder how this possibly could be for you? where is God in the thick of this seemingly unholy experience? but then you remember,

    What he has, is for me. If it wasn’t, then it wouldn’t be here.
    So you hand it over, you give it to God.

    The invitation is accepted immediately. At once, His goal replaces yours. This is accomplished very rapidly, but it makes the relationship seem disturbed, disjunctive, and even quite distressing. The reason is quite clear. For the relationship as it is, is out of line with its own goal, and clearly unsuited to the purpose that has been accepted for it.

    In its unholy condition, your goal was all that seemed to give it meaning.

    Now it seems to make no sense. for once the unholy relationship has accepted the goal of holiness, it can never again be what it was.

    a course in miracles

    My son has always been more than a story of just a boy. He’s a reflection of wider things. It wasn’t always obvious, the noticing was a slow unfolding, a deliberate and gradual recognition not for him but for me. It was my awareness, my willingness to expand that was necessary before the seeing could come, not ordinary seeing but seeing from the wider spaces from which he was reflecting and then, well, everything became like puzzle pieces falling into place over time.

    Right now, the puzzle pieces aren’t fitting anywhere not that I can see clearly anyway.

    It seems that whatever is happening out there is always happening within him. He’s a continuum of energy of sorts, with no gaps, like the Möbius strip.

    And right now the world, what’s out there, is seeming like madness.

    He’s a mirror for the madness.

    It reminds me of something Sophie Strand, poet and ecological storyteller  considers when she speaks of fungi, in particular the Ophiocordyceps unilateralis, which is a type of fungi that takes over carpenter ants, infects them, and coordinates their behaviours so dramatically that they effectively become the fungus wearing the costume of an ant so that by the end of the experience you don’t know if its an ant or a fungus. And it has me wondering who is doing the thinking for this boy, I call my son, that has changed so dramatically from where it once innately was.

    Sophie goes on to say what’s got her thinking here, she questions what if things can think us.. “What’s thinking me?” What if this boy, my son who has always been a reflection of wider spaces has allowed himself to be borrowed, to be used as an instrument, willingly given permission to be used as Sophie would say as “a mouth piece”.

    That is our predicament. I wonder what my son is the reflection of now, what has he allowed himself to be borrowed by?

    Right now, the worlds reflection seems to be so concentrated and focused on the more shadowy side of things or maybe its just that there’s so much light that what has been in the dark, hidden in the shadows is now visible for all to see. It seems we are in a time where the innate energy of everything is being obscured and what we are being led towards is so much in the unknown. It seems that the Truth of things is not obvious anymore, maybe it never really was, nevertheless we are being called forth in a time where discernment is imperative.

    my son, is a reflection, a body containing all of these things and discernment for him is no longer easy, his Truth is seeming obscured by the misconception and I wonder has he let himself be borrowed or used in someway that is not for his highest good.

    So I ask, for help, for guidance, and I hand it over. This seemingly unholiness of our relationship in this moment, this undesirable space we have found ourselves, as a mother and her son.

    Whatever is going on in the world and sometimes wider spaces than even that, somehow can make its way through this being I get to call my son. It doesn’t really matter the layers and details of his experiences or how they are so expansive in phonomen. It’s there for seeing, for ones with eyes to see that is.

    I realised some time ago that I have an agreement with my son. His struggles are my struggles to own and bare. We cannot undo the entanglement of him and I, there is no choice no other way, not for him or for me and I will not let him fall.

    It easy for me to feel helpless in helping him. His troubles are heavy, not pretty, complicated in design. There’s few who would truly be able to comprehend and hold the depths of his reality, when it doesn’t fit the grand narrative.

    But support doesn’t always come from the places we expect they should. We rarely get what we are needing from such places. The help we are needing is larger than that. There’s only one place it can be called forth from, so I pray. I pray in such a way that my call is heard, every word, every late night whisper, every deeply rooted, sometimes agonising plea for guidance, for his protection, for help, I know is heard. I know because it’s in my bones. This is a story of faith and lives within lives within times over lapping times and spaces. All interchangeable all seemingly seperate yet perfectly connected.

    He’s young, but only from small perspectives. His life is larger than anything I could ever know, I’ve always known that. I’ve always recognised his layers of other worlds other times and ones he has been. His spaces have always been occupied by more than the singularity of just himself.



  • Gods impersonating as children

    Healing looking very suspicious these days, tracking along side escalating dollar amounts almost becoming a trillion dollar industry.. If healing is thriving in a time of sickness then we ought to be careful what we name sickness.

    -Bayo Akolomafe

    What does it mean to be well? Functioning? Normal? Contributing? Sane?

    What does it mean to be these things from the view point of an ideology that is failing, has failed and who’s very fabric is falling away at the seams?

    Should we even want to be well when wellness means falling back into systematic ways of being, partaking in stories that have not served kindly on the majority of humanity as a whole. Where do we find ourselves if we refuse to follow along, refuse to indoctrinate our children and force them to define themselves by notions that only serve the small minority, but instead waver on the outskirts, on the margins, belonging somewhere but no where from the grand narratives point of view.

    How do we justify a life of happiness, enough food, warm shelter, access to clean water, the ability to take what we want to believe in and leave the rest behind for someone else’s contemplation because the harsh truth of it doesn’t feel good, because we know that what is on offer, is most certainly causing another to suffer? How do we justify our phones, our clothes, the very earth we hold ourselves to, when it is to the detriment of another be it human, non-human or life force. Can we still be alright with that, if that’s what it means to be well? Are we functioning well by fitting in, showing up, and wearing the construct of the story that has been passed down, placed upon us, even when we know that the fabric of the construct is dramatically failing and falling away, that it makes no sense anymore to the children that can’t sit still in a classroom, to the children that can’t ware shoes or don’t own any, can’t read or whom carry the companionship of voices in their heads. Are we well if we know these things and still we look the other way, we medicate, force and dominate, trying to make these things fit, that were most likely never meant to fit us this way in the first place.

    Maybe we are not meant to be healing, fixing these things. Maybe the children that are being born into these untameable bodies that are bursting in their own wild forces are meant to be here. Maybe they are not really children with Autism at all but Gods of some other time. They are arriving in a cataclysmic motion, with an irresistible compulsion, causing trouble, denying the normative, upsetting the grand narrative. Could it be that we haven’t yet realised it is not for us to decide how they should be in the world, that it’s not really about us shaping things differently so that they can fit better, when fitting in is no longer what is necessary. Maybe they are here to take things apart, to cause mischief in the systems, to undo things, upset things, make trouble, disturb all manner of the seemingly normality of things. What if that story we are trying so very hard to manipulate their bodies into is finished now, that the reason they arrive in such grand force, what has been assumed could be an approaching Autism epidemic is because we are not listening, we are not really paying attention. Instead we are still trying to play out a narrative centred around an androcentric normality that no longer exists.

    …maybe we should be ‘considering not what gets in the way of healing, but .. what healing gets in the way of. ‘ -Bayo Akomolafe

    Maybe healing and fixing these things is, to not consider what we may not be able to see. Maybe we are yet to have the language for such places. What if we are being asked to consider and trust something so vastly different from anything we have ever known or seen before and what is really happening is that we are scared. We are afraid of arriving somewhere and not knowing the answers, or worse still that there will be no answer. We are afraid to enter into these unknowable places with our children because we feel that we are the ones guiding them, that we know what is best for them, it’s what the narrative has always been. But maybe we need to step down now, from our hierarchy and thinking that we know what is best, for it is overtly obvious now that this is not the case. Possibly it has never been. Maybe we need to place our faith in something else, be it the roots of the tree, the soil of the earth, the unassuming butterfly or the invisible ones who occupy the unseen spaces or could it be in these wild Gods that are impersonating themselves as Autistic children.

  • ..a deeply limited observation, a tiny infraction of sorts

    “Where running our of words to describe things.” Tyson Yunkaporta

    He is not just thinking in spaces of here, nor in places that are concrete and known by the matter of what we assume to be fact and certain. A red chair is a red chair that sits before me. He’s not just thinking with his own mind in the solitude of self, individualised and seperate as it seems, in body and space. He is not thinking alone like this. He holds access to a magnitude of worlds, of universes, of things that perhaps cannot be known about or seen or touched by us from this point of time or from this point of reference. He, at times whilst in the thoughts of all that cannot be seen or touched, moves in a systematic dance with his hands. Visually sifting and sorting out the invisible threads of creation that contain the fabric of the unseen worlds. He has no real name for this, but his look assures me it must be done. He is not really all here but neither is he all there, where ever there is. He floats in the mystery of this space not really fitting anywhere. He comes not wholly in the light nor from the depths of darkness, but sits within the equanimity of both, which he says is a shade of purple and is where he needs to be, no matter how I try to lean him futher into the light of grace. There are things he says, are not for me to know. So I let them be between him and his God. It would seem that he is here to do things that are not really of this world at all. He seems to be working from some other unknowable space or perhaps place. He seems to be doing something here, that possibly matters, that is possibly necessary, yet it remains in the unseen, it is not tangible, cannot be recognised or commended and proudly acknowledged, there’s no certification for work like this. At this point, it would be more rational to disregard, to disorganise his innate, organic organisation, to attempt to undo his unusual invisible doings, to dismiss his hand dances as repetitive self stimulatory behaviours, or so it would seem. Yet, the small voice of my own knowing says that what he does, must be done. That this is not mine to contain, name or control. It is not even mine to understand. Do you suppose that maybe nothing needs to be imposed here?

  • wander lines

    A philosophy of tracing 

    This TRACING / from before the sign / I will never cease to see in it / what no gaze / would it be mine / will ever see • the human is there / perhaps / quite simply / with no one in the end / without voice • those / TRACINGS / are from my hand which borrowed the manner of handling / the style of this janmari who speaking is not • and everything that I can write from this / TRACING that all the writings of the / world have no chance of drying up. (Deligny, 2007: 813; quoted and translated in Alvarez de Toledo, 2013: 5) 

    I am exploring wander lines. trying to move away from neurotypical thought processes to a wider less structured thought way. I am trying to not think in straight lines, like my son and my eldest daughter, they don’t think in straight lines.

    I was leaving early on a Saturday morning to head to a farmers market. It’s always a big day, a big drive there and back. As i was heading our down our driveway i was stopped by fallen trees laying across my access. This was a big deal, they would have to be moved and i was annoyed that i was the one having to do it. From closer inspection it would require a chainsaw, not an easy task for this moment and for one person. I worked in slight annoyance, internally voicing my frustrations at the inconvenience, which could have been tended to yesterday. Why didn’t she say this needs to be cleared, she knew that it was mess, she knew because she walked over it to check the mail. Why didn’t she say you won’t be able get through tomorrow. I was having a self indulgent early morning rant to myself.

    Nevertheless I was able to clear the path, remove the trees and branches and the nuisances that were ailing me and was on my way to the farmers market. All was well. On my drive I calmed. Breathed. And there it was. I understood the need for the early morning obstruction. The obstruction was not in the fallen trees on my path, it was in the obstruction of my thinking of how she thinks. Yes, she knew about the fallen trees, yes she mentioned them in an incidental way, but she wasn’t thinking in straight lines. She doesn’t think in straight lines.

    I had been pondering on Deligny and his maps of wandering lines. I was wanting to understand this more, explore it from new spaces within my own thinking. I was wanting to see it in movement, thoughts in processes not travelling on straight lines. It seems someone was listening.

    The straight line process would have been to notice the fallen trees and say we need to move them before tomorrow morning. It would have been to work together and have the driveway cleared for access again in the morning. But that’s straight line thinking, neurotypical line thinking. Its thinking- action-result kind of thinking. Its thinking that has been educated, indoctrinated, cultured into us like good manners. Its viewed as rational and necessary, as normal.

    But it starting to feel false. As though by thinking in such ways we are denying something else. Perhaps something is becoming lost within us, within this process, something innate, ancestral, something that offers more to the experience we are having. We are not seperate from our experiences. My fallen trees were my lesson here. It would seem as though they were a cleverly planned obstacle placed within my path, within my thinking of things. They were my obstruction of thought and became an invitation to think of things from wandering lines.

    Deligny clearly recognised this in his working beside non-verbal autistic children. What can be lost within the language of words. It reminds me of my son when he was small. He didn’t talk with words until he was four. We had to understand each other in other ways, by other means. We had to feel into these places. I had to remind myself that i can know him from here, just as a mother understands her newborn babe, words become so unnecessary from this space.

    ..that touches us without our knowing why, a touching that occurs not through the effects of language but beyond, where “something that cannot be seen” exists, something ineffable but nonetheless “immediately felt” (Deligny 1990).

    My son thinks in wandering lines. He has his own maps of thought. They make little sense to the indoctrinated typical mind. They aren’t clear, they don’t stay in one place, they cross space-time- realities. Yet when i listen, really listen, his anarchy of thought makes way for contemplative thought, they invite possibility, maybe not always in this place, or in this time, or even this universe but what he chooses to use his voice for is stories of happenings and who am i to determine such things as real or not.

    carly

  • beings as wild alters

    “I worry about fixing these bodies that are beginning to experiment ..when we have fixed the human race the human race can no longer evolve. 

    We think of ourselves as a climatic species but we are living in dynamic environments that are shifting that we will need to glitch out and become disabled in order to inhabit and so I worry about fixing these bodies that are beginning to experiment at the very edges of the eco tones of what is supposed to be materially appropriate. So somebody’s body that could be fixed I wonder if it should be fixed.” -Sophie Strand

    this is the space I find myself occupying now. im sitting in wander. wandering lines, that are not set with a concrete direction or goal orientated destination, i already know that there will be no real answers to the questions that i am asking here. there will be no ending or certainanty, to be looked forward to. it will not be completed with yet another DSM5 diagnosis and a full stop. no, that is not the way of the wandering lines.

    when I speak of wandering lines i am thinking away from what we think we know about autism, mental health, stability, what it means to be well. i cannot tentatively hold myself completely to notions of how the world interacts and responds to these things so much anymore. i have cautious steps now. i have learned to not trust the narrative. i have ventured in my thinking of things from wilder places.

     It’s in the glitching out, its in the disability, its in the diaschronic. Its in the place that we loose eloquence that God comes in.  

    Bayo Aklomofe

    instead i find myself trusting something that cannot be named, that is innately inherent, and who’s guidance has never wavered over the years. my faith in these unknowable spaces have always shown me the way, where to place my next step, or they have laid before my very feet the guidance i am seeking. these Gods have always traveled beside me, even in the times when i wasn’t able to hold space for them.

    The void isn’t empty. The gods are everywhere. We are swimming in dynamic, animated, tentacular territories and there is no escaping that, there is no removing ourselves from that. We are always in conversation with these bio field signals. 

    Bayo Aklomofe

    my son’s story is unfolding in wildish uncertain and sometimes uncomfortable ways. when he moves, it is through space time, through universes and galaxies and inconceivable notions of more than we can comprehend. i’m sure its not really new to him now, i think he has always occupied these wide places of existence. maybe what’s new is he is somewhat more aware now of this traveling self he inhibits and it is beginning to ruffle him. it has become obvious that he is not contained or limited in his thinking or do i dare assume knowing, to any preconceived ideas of how we exist in the here and now. he moves from spaces much wider than that.

    i as a mother of this young human, and my ‘i’ in this is small i know, for i don’t think he has ever been a child, especially one for me to call my own, he belongs to something much greater than that. nevertheless, i wonder where i am to stand in the witnessing of this unfolding of self and other. i wonder where my place is, if it’s really relevant at all, from such expansive unknowable landscapes.

    i have borrowed a notion, of’ beings as wild alters.’ Bayo Alomofe tells of a story of his beloved wife Ej and her philosophy towards caring for their son in the unknowable times of trouble. i have listened to this story many times over and it always brings me to tears, it reminds me of all the times i too have fallen to the ground to be beside my son in the face of the unknowable storm. Ej invites us to hold our children as alters, as a wild place where the subject is not to cure or to fix them into sanity, instead the object is to worship, to stay in the trouble of the yelps and screaming. this resonates in me, it makes sense to not move in these times, but rather lay down in the face of the fire. for, we can never be sure of where the fire has arrived from or where it is on its way to, we can never be certain of what it means to have such things move through and captivate the bodies of our children. there is no real language for these places, perhaps we are not meant to bring them out of the turmoil, or lead them away or quieten them down, we don’t know what they are moving in the heat of the storm.

  • revisiting this space from another time

    many moments have passed since I have traveled within these pages. I owe so much of the story I have now to the time I spent here exploring possibility and then, the inevitable unraveling of myself and everything that followed.

    I wonder now if I could step back in? could I arrive here again after all this time and continue a journey from such a vastly different place, from such a vastly different self?

    looking back, I can see the hard choices I made to be where we stand now. Great sacrifices have been made, that have not gone without notice. Ones have had to let go, when it was not what they were wanting, ones have had to go without the stories for us to move forward on the unknowable path we needed to take. We have travelled the nomadic experience, we have slept in wild places, woken beside oceans, played in sacred rainforests, spent more on barefooted adventures than in a classroom. There has been no school. There has been no indoctrination of an old story. And the children that were so little when we began our adventurous life are not so little anymore. And I wonder what will become of this wild experiment we have been on, where children have been given their lives to call their own? i wonder now how the story will play out?

    maybe there is a space here.. beckoning to be rekindled.

    maybe there is still something to be found amongst the raw tales and musings of life and wonder .. maybe the story isn’t complete.. maybe there’s more to tell.

  • challenging the ‘be a good girl’ notion

     

    When she is  told to be a ‘good girl’, it is assuming that she can also be ‘bad’.   What exactly ‘Bad’ entails is completely in the eye of the beholder. We see ‘bad’ in all sorts of experiences in our daily lives. Children hear us relaying things we have read about, or seen or are listening to our interpretations of events that are all seemingly ‘bad’, and generally its pretty ‘bad’  if we are all talking about it. So why is it, that children are so often told to ‘be good’ by the people who care about them, implying that they must be capable of being ‘bad’, otherwise what is the point for mentioning it at all.  It is patronising to children that we so easily hold them to such unwarranted judgments.  It is pretending to be loving and kind in deliverance but really its just condescending superiority. Adults would never say this to each other, it wouldn’t be accepted by any means, and it’s not necessary for children either. Our interactions with children have become thoughtless, just repetitive habitual words, that we think have no real meaning or impact. Except they do.  I don’t tell my children to ‘be good’, but they have heard this enough already in their interactions with others  to know that this wins praise. Children are intelligent. My daughter will intentionally do things for the praise. She does ask ‘am i a good girl?’ after completing something, not often, but it happens, and it’s hard one to over come once the mindset has already been established. The truth is, there is no good or bad in children. They are just children learning to maneuver their way through their experiences and emotions. Most of the time my children are outwardly honest in their deliverance of their feelings and that can raise some awkwardness in the moment, usually because honesty is not what the recipient is expecting to hear. Their opinions haven’t been filtered or moulded to fit some false sociably acceptable standard. Their opinions are respected and they are learning that they are valued for them even in their indifference. How we can help others to understand this better, I’m still trying to work this out. My children are not obedient, because I don’t expect they should be.

    What do we trade when we prioritise obedience over our children’s needs, mistakes or messy emotions? -Raised Good, parenting by nature

    This doesn’t mean that they are ‘bad’. They simply have choices, and most of the time they make the ‘right’ ones for themselves. They are learning that certain choices they make wont bring them their desired outcomes, eventually they’ll make a different choice. It requires more patients and more compassion and understanding. It requires that we be present in the moment with our children.  Admittedly, it’s is definitely easier to take control over their lives and autonomy. It is definitely easier to play the role of the boss and dictate their days to them. Telling them when to eat, sleep, bathe, work, play, talk, listen or  who to be nice to, etc…Its definitely easier to tell them what to do rather than ask them if it is what they are wanting.

    My children are more often than not outspoken, meaning they don’t think to hold their thoughts back on any situation, especially ones they themselves are directly impacted by. They are defiantly clear about what it is they are wanting and what it is they do not. They are unafraid to use their voices, and they don’t easily abide towards domination, manipulation or any other techniques that degrades or undermines their  usually valued opinions.  They wont simply hand out respect if it’s not warranted. And this can be somewhat unsettling, if you’re not expecting it, especially when it is coming from a five-year old. Are they ‘Bad’ children, No. Should they do what they are told to do, simply because someone tells them to? I don’t think so. Understandably, this is a tough notion to consider. But i would prefer that my children risk politeness for honesty and remain true to their feelings, than to deny themselves that right, in fear of being socially unaccepted by the opinions of others.   There are many ways we could be interacting with children that doesn’t entail making them feel inferior or imply that they are incapable of making good and safe decisions for themselves.

    “The reality that adults have more power than children, however, does not mean that it is appropriate or necessary for us to exercise control over them. Rather, it means that we have an obligation to consciously choose how to use our power. We can choose to use our greater power to control children and coerce them to do what we want. We can choose to do nothing with our power. But we can also choose to use our power to support, assist, and facilitate the growth and learning of children in ways that affirm their personal power, dignity, and humanity.” -Teresa Graham Brett

    We could be making ourselves clearer to children about what we are desiring, explain ourselves better without the authoritarian overtones. We could be offering them a range of possible outcomes to consider, before making decisions for them.  And we could allow ourselves to think about it a little more deeply and question our own concerns with needing a certain outcomes.  Possibly, we should be asking ourselves more often,  does it really matter?  We could stop opting for the quick, go to, fix  ‘do what i am asking of you and do it now.’  We could opt out of needing to power struggle with children.

    My children are strong and independent, this strategy never works on them and i would never wish it to.  They are learning that people aren’t always sincere with their words and in their actions.  It must be incredibly confusing for children, when their well-being is so conditioned to only having particular outcomes and behaviours, deemed to be acceptable. It still bewilders me, that children are so often condemned for their natural feelings and emotions, it is asking children to deny feeling parts of themselves, simply because they may be causing undesirable attention.

    We know that the way we are moving is not the norm, we know that its unconventional. The easier path would be to compel ourselves, despite our instinctual knowing and follow the less confrontational path. We could accept the ‘normalised’ and ‘expected’ way to raise children, without ever questioning it, even if it doesn’t feel right. But thankfully, that’s not our journey.  I’m strongly in favour for questioning what has gone before us and i’m thankful that i’m raising children that will without a doubt question everything that comes before them, before taking it on as their truth at face value.

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  • changing the paradigms

    As my two wilder ones are embarking on their journey of natural learning and self-directed education, my oldest son is finalising his, on the mainstream path.  It’s been a long tedious road, and i can’t say its been worth it. If only i had realised all that i do now, we may have never let that story play our for so long. So much of this path or knowing we have found ourselves travelling on comes from Trust. Trusting myself to know what is best for my children and trusting my children in that they also know what is best for themselves.

    My son is excited, really excited. He has no idea what he wants to do, but the possibilities that await and the fact that he can now choose for himself has made him ecstatic. Most might be uncomfortable sitting in the ‘unknown’ with their children’s next move. Most would feel a pressure in wanting them to have an idea or an answer. Most would not be alright in their child just pausing to find their feet or in them seeking out their own fire.

    There is no plan that’s set in stone for us, and we have no intention of forcing any learning upon him anymore that holds no interest for him.  We have learnt the hard way, that this rarely works and its more that likely that the information and possibly the skills that we believe are relevant to now, will be more than likely be irrelevant in the future anyway.  Right now what is important for this new venture my son is embarking on is that he regains his passion for learning, not for the sake of meeting some  regulation, or somebody elses ideas of what he should be doing in his life, but for himself. His passions, his ideas and adventures for his life are his to own and pursue, that freedom is his right. School for him has been what has denied him this basic right, for the last ten years.

    Now, he will have the freedom to explore what ever it is he is drawn to in this moment. There simply is no need or expectation for him to have it all worked out just yet. It’s absurd, that this has become the ‘norm’ within the realms of the educational system.  There will be times, when the space isn’t filled. There will be more time spent now, where he is not in the position of being ‘directed’ or ‘told’ what to do than ever before in his life. There will be some ‘uncomfortableness’ here, and an uneasiness in this freedom this brings.  Why is it we fill children up from such a young ages, leaving no room for boredom or self discovery; always keeping them ‘productive’ and ‘doing’ in their lives, and in turn keeping them the furthest from discovering their own desires. The longer children are kept within these reins, the longer it takes for them to find their way back towards what it is that they truly desire for themselves. Usually it’s not until, there is enough time left  ‘unfilled’ and free from the direction and ideas of others that they can truly begin to discover this for themselves.

    The process of unfolding everything  ‘school’ has made an imprint on, will be long. It will require, patients in the transitioning from being schooled to one where he has the freedom to move in his own life. He will no longer be forced to endure long sessions of dictation on subject matters that have little to no relevance him. He will no loner be conditioned when to eat, speak, sit, stand or listen and if he needs use the bathroom now, he wont be degraded in to having to ask for permission.

    So as for the restlessness that most likely will arise at times in the ‘Not’ being consistently told what to do, there’s also going to be a great beauty in bearing witness to my son discovering for the first time the things that truly drive him for the journey of his own life.

     

     

     

     

     

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  • just a thought