Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.
← CHAPTER OVERVIEW
Let’s take a break – and make this a practice
Dear Creatrix,
What excuses did you come up with?
Why is it difficult for YOU to allow yourself space and time to relax, meditate and be still?
Before we talk about this more and find out what we can do about it, I would like to finish off this week with a short break and a text I found that I think fits here quite well.
The way capitalism, colonialization and the ideologies of the west have raised us, we push, we pull, we move things quickly, and we have a hard time allowing for change and things to come to us when the time is right.
But times are changing, and this is wonderful news.
And it is also wonderful that there are still some people among us, who know how to live with the energies of the universe and who can become our greatest teachers now, as we shift into a time, that aligns us again with the natural rhythms and allows us to understand ourselves as a part of nature itself.
„My people are not threatened by silence. They are completely at home in it. They have lived for thousands of years with Nature’s quietness. My people today recognise and experience in this quietness the great Life-Giving Spirit, the Father of us all.
It is easy for me to experience God’s presence.
When I am out hunting, when I am in the bush, among the trees, on a hill or by a billabong; these are the times when I can simply be in God’s presence.
My people have been so aware of Nature. It is natural that we will feel close to the Creator. Our Aboriginal culture has taught us to be still and to wait. We do not try to hurry things up. We let them follow their natural course – like the seasons. We watch the moon in each of its phases. We wait for the rain to fill our rivers and water the thirsty earth…
When twilight comes, we prepare for the night. At dawn we rise with the sun.
We watch the bush foods and wait for them to ripen before we gather them. We wait for our young people as they grow, stage by stage, through their initiation ceremonies. When a relation dies, we wait a long time with the sorrow. We own our grief and allow it to heal slowly.
We wait for the right time for our ceremonies and our meetings.
The right people must be present. Everything must be done in the proper way. Careful preparations must be made. We don’t mind waiting, because we want things to be done with care.
We don’t like to hurry. There is nothing more important than what we are attending to. There is nothing more urgent that we must hurry away for.
We wait on God, too. His time is the right time. We wait for him to make his word clear to us. We don’t worry. We know that in time and in the spirit of dadirri (that deep listening and quiet stillness) his way will be clear.
We are river people. We cannot hurry the river. We have to move with its current and understand its ways.
We hope that the people of Australia will wait. Not so much waiting for us – to catch up – but waiting with us, as we find our pace in this world.
If you stay closely united, you are like a tree, standing in the middle of a bushfire sweeping through the timber. The leaves are scorched and the tough bark is scarred and burnt; but inside the tree the sap is still flowing, and under the ground the roots are still strong.
Like that tree, you have endured the flames, and you still have the power to be reborn.
Our culture is different. We are asking our fellow Australians to take time to know us; to be still and to listen to us.“
~ Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann (Aboriginal activist, educator, artist and 2021 Senior Australian of the year)
Photo by Ethan Brooke on Pexels.
So while this text comes from a quite specific context, what I think this text shows us more than anything, is re…
