Naked and spectacular

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Acknowledging the depths I have always appreciated being loved from

My mum always told me that if you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all; I extrapolate that if you don't have anything nice to write about you are free to use "stream-of-consciousness" as my beautiful English teacher in years 10 and 13 described it, free typing with your "piano fingers" as my precious mummy described the limbs at the end of my wrists. 

I am so lucky to have had these beautiful women to guide me as a child.  There was, as I mentioned, Mrs Käsner and her love, which, as you may know, does not emanate from every high school teacher in this world.  A year or three later there was Norelle Scott, who was equally encouraging and loving in her way toward drawing out the rhythms and secrets in my mind that can be translated to external works of art that seem to resonate with others.  What a beautiful anomaly she is in an education-industry dedicated primarily to role specialisation for the benefit of an economy that is draining our planet, enslaving us and and making sure our lives are as meaningless as possible.

Some people go their whole lives without encountering these women who are able to exist within and without the male-dominated hierarchy that we allow to define our society.  They somehow manage to effortlessly spread the security of the chaotic depths of their love for all life on this planet and their, I assume largely unconscious, connection to the mind of this Earth.  I don't understand this connection because I was born into a male form and while my journey has certainly been to overcome many of the limits of my masculinity, I still have a penis and I like having a penis and I am not going to ever not have a penis and even if I did not it would not mean that I would have womb and so my body will never contain a microcosm of the universe.

But I will continue to encounter these women and their depths of infinite love and I can even say with pride that I emerged into this dimension from the womb of one of these women.  Her name is Mum and she was my mother.  She identified with a superficial external world and waited for someone to acknowledge the secret universe inside of her that was not utilitarian enough for the cultural context we are talking about here.  The cultural context, specifically, was Australia and New Zealand 1950-2005.  This strange and idiotic attempt at European civilisation in what is referred to, without humour, as Oceania, is by no stretch of the imagination a legitimate benchmark against which to judge the value of your own worth.  You will discover with a small amount of travel that European civilisation is actually stronger and healthier in Europe and has actually continued to evolve along much more sensible lines into the 21st century.  However, New Zealand and Australia are not failures of human civilisation because each land possesses the spirit and even the physical presence of a different attempt at human society which could possibly resonate with the land somewhat more comfortably than capitalism and political correctness.

I don't think Mum consciously tapped very strongly into the profundity of the expansive possibilities of the human experience in Oceania, though she did tell me once how attractive young Maori women are.  "They are so full of life," she told me.  They don't subscribe to the same repressive performances of restraint that I was taught by my loving parents and hateful teachers, she implied.  Unlike my blessings, seemingly perpetual, of these engaged, encouraging, beautiful teaching women, my mother never danced with the young Maori woman who was to draw out the joy and delight of life that she left dormant within her.  Instead she ended her life dreaming of the father who dominated the household with such love that Mum felt safe, long before she was my mum or anyone's mum; back when she had a mum herself and so needed love instead of just giving so much of it away.

I guess even a woman who doesn't acknowledge the universe inside of her can still manage to access profound amounts of the love contained within it when she has five children to send out into the world full to the brim with love and acceptance.  I am almost tempted to say that this undefinable impulse of women is more powerful than the massive concrete structures and institutions with their layers of bureaucracy that men create in attempts to control their world.  If you understand any of what I have just said then maybe you will have an interesting answer to the question of who is the real god in this world, the war-obsessed Alpha Male god of our monotheistic religious institutions or the goddess who personifies nature and the collective mind of all life on this planet?  A simple question when you understand my definition of all these extremely unspecific words I am using.

Maybe Yahweh and Allah don't exist and maybe Gaia does exist; and of course only a male would make such an idiotic statement.  Don't get me wrong, I am not reinforcing any dichotomy between male and female.  The control systems men have created on this planet have infected women and men alike and both men and women are realising this and choosing to remove themselves from it.  However there has been a retention, thankfully, that survived the last two thousand years of Christianity and Islam and as a result many of us are blessed with mothers or teachers or friends whose abundance is inconceivable within the constructs of certain control-freak realities.

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