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The Way to Go.

Bark of Cork Oak.

Bark of Cork Oak.

The Way to Go.

Flowing water'

Flowing water’

 Wanting respect is the ego. Earning respect is gratifying; gratitude is appreciation of all the good surrounding us. This good does not come uninvited it must be encouraged by noble effort. Everything is interrelated, every action has a like reaction. Nothing exists alone, everything is interconnected. The ego’s wanting is the cause of our discontent this causes much of our unhappiness. Everything is in the flux of change, this is a natural law. Not to be in tune with this natural flow is to fight with the inevitable. Peace and contentment cannot be found in conflict.

leaves jc

Sharing what I have found helpful, in my life experience and other people’s writing, I would like to pass on to others.  I have found much joy in this troubled world only because I have searched for knowledge. Ignorance is another cause of our sorrow. I have learned in life’s school of personal experience that happiness cannot be found at the expense of the world around us. Now aware that my obsessive desires for the unnecessary things brought costs I had not envisaged.  The cost of storage, maintaining and protecting those unnecessary things added to the initial cost. Extravagance by the greedy creates envy in the needy, gratifying the egos wanting causes much unhappiness.

ATM then shop till you drop.

ATM then shop till you drop.

Caring and sharing and endeavouring to overcome our faults leads to peace and contentment. The quest for peace and contentment should be our lifelong goal. Found by practicing noble ethics from all dogmas. Ethics obscured by religious hierarchies arguing about minor technicalities in their power struggle for supremacy. We must put these differences aside and get to the basic worthy points of agreement.  Equanimity is the ability to remain calm in the midst of turmoil, free from unproductive emotions. The quest to become a better person by learning our faults and trying to stop repeating them should be our reason to live. Pleasures are fleeting, joy and happiness never lasts, peace, contentment and equanimity are a more worthy and lasting goal.

Soft early morning mist.

Soft early morning mist.

This is my belief and I am grateful to have found much more peace and contentment following this philosophy. I may never reach my ultimate goal of perfect peace, contentment and equanimity in my life on earth.  Ironically wanting this state would cause me grief. It is a great quest that keeps me occupied and I know when I transcend this life this perfect state will be reached. Returning to the great unknown from where I came, perhaps returning home to join the vastness of infinity. At the end of my day I will be ready to rest in oblivion or paradise in the unknown.

flowers

The way to go is to keep an open mind and feed the mind on the most ethical and wholesome examples available. If you eat rubbish your physical health will suffer and you will not be able to carry out your obligations. Whatever your senses absorb will reflect in your actions. Food, entertainment and all you encounter has an effect on the development of your character. This is the law of action and reaction, force creates a like response. You reflect life as a mirror except in more depth. It is no good being superficial you cannot accept a complement when it is not directed at what you know to be truly you. Do not hide behind subterfuge or you will never know truth.

A natural Aussie White Cockatoo.

A natural Aussie White Cockatoo.

Wide Brown Land.

ACT National Arboretum Canberra a Tribute to Nature.

Aboretum panorama 1.

Arboretum panorama 1.

These views show the immensity of this project it is far from established. Even at this stage it is well worth visiting. The work is still in progress for people and Mother Nature to complete the work. Nature is unmatched, by man’s hand and she cannot be rushed. I would like to see the forests when they are established in ten; twenty or thirty years (I will have to be lucky) The people who have dreamed up this whole project are  impressive artists in many fields. But like the poem by Joyce Kilmer.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

There are two exceptional sculptures and spectacular architecture.

 The sculpture is a tribute to Dorothea Mackellar and her poem, My Country. The start of this poem is appropriate to Pauline and I. To get a more comprehensive idea of the area and history hit this link to Pauline’s post. I am more interested in the sculpture and the tribute to Mother Nature.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

The wide brown land sculpture that can be seen from many vantage points, the words are in Dorothea Mackellar’s hand writing. To me it is not a small achievement, it was a combined effort of skilled artist and craftsmen.  Imagine the marking out of the steel plates, the forming and welding the grinding and smoothing and the shifting into place.

 The Village Centre houses the Bonsai and Penjing collection and many other things of interest.

We walked into an established forest area and smelled barbeque cooking.  There was a man cooking at a powered barbeque and a lady. Click went my camera I like photos of people enjoying life.

I spoke to the man “I just took a photo of you and your lady she looked so at peace.”

“My wife is praying.”

“That’s nice I follow the Buddha’s path and meditate.”

“It is all good.” He replied.

“Enjoy. “were my parting word.

I thought what a nice couple appreciating nature in the peaceful forest, nature’s cathedral or mosque. As he said all is good. The wide brown land is a multinational land where people are generally accepting and respectful of each other’s customs and this enhances life with the different foods and a variety of dress.

Dorothea Mackellar was in London when she wrote the poem My Country. I often recalled the poem when I was working in New Zealand. New Zealand is a wonderful country but there is no place like home.

 

My Country.

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

Natures art.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die -
But then the grey clouds gather,

The Kiss.

The Kiss.

And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold -
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land -
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand -
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown countryArboretum JC
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea Mackellar

Appreciating Worthy Intention.

Fairy Nice.

Fairy Nice.

 Mr Cottrell’s heart was in the right place but his head was in the clouds. On reflection I would not call him mister he was only about eighteen and full of the fervent fever of one who has just found God. I was only a kid and could not imagine a god being lost. As from what I knew about gods, they were like Supermen some were nudists living on mount Olympus, Zeus was the boss and tossed thunderbolts all over the sky when he was upset. I was told these gods were myths. I was not sure what myths were but thought they were something like the Tooth Fairy, not to be taken too seriously unless you had a loose tooth. Then if you knew what was good for you, you were a strong believer in the Tooth fairy.

A little community hall like this.

A little community hall like this.

The little community hall was reserved on Sunday by the local multi denominational Christian Church group. That is where Mr. C. held Sunday school for the kids. I always attended the last few meetings before Christmas and was invited to their Christmas picnic. I liked the bible stories almost as much as Jack in the Bean Stork, Snow White and the seven dwarfs and Little Red Riding hood. I knew an ordinary hat would blow off riding a horse, what I perplexed me was she did not have a horse. I was always asking why and trying to find out things. Not like Bobby Bacon, the boy everyone, except me and Mr. C., called Piggie, I tried to keep in good with Mr. C. but Bobby would ask all these difficult questions. “How could, Noah fit all the animals in the world on a boat.” “It was a big boat.” Said Mr C. “But tigers would eat the deer.” “He kept them in cages.” “Elephants would break out of cages and eat all the food and where would he keep the food?”  Mr. C. was never stuck for an answer he just said “All things are possible with God on your side.

Is this Noahs arc?

Is this Noahs arc?

I told Bobby to shut-up or he would miss out on the Christmas picnic, like me that was the main reason he came along and I think his Mum give him a bit of a push. My Mum did not need to push me she said “When you do anything it should be for the right reason. Like in the Pinocchio movie, ‘always let your conscience be your guide.’ That movie was a memorable occasion in my life; it was the only movie Mum took me to see. Still my appetite for picnic food had more influence on me than my conscience.

Everyone nose Pinocchio.

Everyone nose Pinocchio.

I was a cunning kid. If I knew what I now know, as is often said by people seeing the errors of their youth, I would have missed out on a lot of fun. It is no good regretting the past.’ Even if we could turn back we’d probably never end up back where we started.’ I think that line is plagiarised but what has not been said before, in some way. I diverge, getting back to that ignorant kid he was a good normal boy learning about life in a perplexing, contradictory world.  In this world the blind do their utmost to help those struggling to understand to see it as they do.

Tooth Fairy

To tell Mr, Cottrell I am more interested in going to the picnic than your bible stories. Those stories are no different to me than myths and legends and I prefer to follow the ethical teachings of the Buddha. Can I still come to the picnic? Who knows what the outcome would have been. I am so pleased we cannot go back and meddle with the past. It was confusing enough without additional interference.

We need no strings needed to dance.

We need no strings needed to dance.

Mr. Cottrell was a sincere, kind young person spreading his joy of finding a guiding light. He gave up his time sharing what he believed in with the likes of Piggie and me. It is the intention not the action that gives the deed its value. Like Mum said,” When you do anything it should be for the right reason.”  Why do I write these posts? For the same reason Mr. C. told me stories. We are all well-meaning, but maybe like Piggie, we only want to be happy and party. Bobbie probably grew into a well-meaning hedonist and lots of fun at a social gathering.

not used

G’day Bobbie

This is basically a true story but the memory is not to be relied on with impunity.  Also stories do need a bit of artistic licence to be at all interesting. When writing about myself I can handle the truth like a contortionist handles his body or a juggler his balls. 

Fairies and dragons I could not show the contortionists

Fairies and dragons I could not show the contortionists

Restless Night.

Things don't look right.

Things don’t look right.

Restless Nights.

Which ever way you look at it.

Which ever way you look at it.

This morning I woke up or was I actually asleep or in a sort of stupor. I had one of those restless nights caused by reading a disturbing book just before bed time. It is not a good idea to fill our head with negative input, especially before bed. I usually avoid things like that not eating a heavy meal or doing anything to hype me up. I never watch those TV programme full of violence and disasters. I did not find the book was disturbing while reading it.

Too good to be good for you.

Too good to be good for you.

I found the book interesting because of the stories of how men build monopolies to become rich, disregarding the welfare of others. “A fast Food Nation” by Eric Schlosser, on how America has influenced the worlds eating habits. Except for stressing the statistics in places, to a point bordering on boring, it is easy reading. I skim over those parts and parts I was already fully aware of. But it was not a bed time story to induce a good night’s sleep.

A little cafe in Busseltin W A.

A little cafe in Busseltin W A.

How I cope with restless nights is to remind myself, if my brain needs rest I will sleep, if I am only physically tired then all I need is to shut my eyes and take a few deep breaths and relax.  Usually I drift off into the land of oblivion or, as last night, into dreamland. Last night the dreams reflected on the dark side of what I had been reading.

Busselton is a nice town..

Busselton is a nice town..

This morning I did not feel very enthusiastic, mindful of my mood, I normally would have put on what I call my ‘get up and go music’.  I have music selections to encourage any mood. Unfortunately my music collection is 3,777 km that is 2,347 miles as the crow flies. At 600 m/p hr. a jet takes about 4 hrs. from here to the east coast of Australia.

With a nice atmosphere and food.

With a nice atmosphere and food.

So I fell back on my old friend Will Power to get me to the Gym. Just take it easy, but do it, I thought. I climbed up on the cross trainer and as the cadence built up, the heart started pumping it was like the sun had come out from behind a dark oppressive cloud.

This crocodile was not a man eater.

This crocodile was not a man-eater.

Pauline and I had lunch in town, not in a fast-food franchises but a little designer sandwich place. I had a nice salad on whole grain bread, with avocado instead of butter. Pauline has the same, adding turkey to hers. She said it is very good for you I agreed but even this shop had reconstituted meat. “Not for me sweetheart,” I said, recalling that book, “I will stick with mostly vegetarian.”

This is the best food.

This is the best food.

The sun is shining bright. I will sleep tonight. Looking out over the sparkling ocean a gentle breeze making the Buddhist prayer flags flutter and the little bell tinkle. Everything is pristine I do not need other music to lift me up. Nothing remains of this morning’s mood.

Sunset

Sunset over Indian Ocean.

I wrote this post in Geraldton but because there are so many things to do and see when visiting new places blogging has a good deal of competition. Finally I am posting, there are not enough hours in the day that may be why I do not need as much sleep as doctors recommend. It is said, ‘Sleep when you are sleepy, drink when you’re dry, but don’t forget to breath or you will die’.

Happy Buddha has been eating fast food.

Happy Buddha has been eating fast food.

Cleaning Windows.

Pauline  entering Canberra Museum dwarfed by the windows.

Pauline entering Canberra Museum dwarfed by the windows.

Cleaning Windows.

A window is like a picture in a book and it is said a picture is worth a thousand words. If those windows are not clean it is like having dirty pictures in your home. The pictures we look at will influence our thoughts and emotions. Unwholesome pictures infect our thoughts. Those thoughts will become emotions that lead to actions that develop into habits. Keeping windows clean contributes to our wellbeing.

Sunset and Busselton Jetty reflected in windows.

Sunset and Busselton Jetty reflected in windows.

Who lives without a speck or smudge of grime on their windows? We must not be judgemental remember the story of Jesus saying “Let the one without sin cast the first stone.” Look beyond the blemishes there is always beauty if we look for it. There are no bad people they are either sick or ignorant, the sick need help and the ignorant need teaching.

Canberra Museum window.

Canberra Museum window.

A shattered, broken window is dangerous, like a psychopath, to be avoided. Leave the treatment required to those qualified .

Window in Banbury Art Gallery.

Window in Bunbury Art Gallery.

Let us get back to cleaning windows and lightening things up.

This is window cleaning Brisbane 2014.

This is window cleaning Brisbane 2014 or Having Fun.

George Formby was an old-time performer who sang a saucy song called ‘When I’m Cleaning windows.’  I can only recall one line, ‘The blushing bride looks divine, the bridegroom says I’m doing fine, I’d rather have his job than mine, when I’m cleaning windows”. If you want more frivolity, hit the link.

facebook=[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfmAeijj5cM]

Canberra Museum's fibulas architecture.

Canberra Museum’s fabulous architecture.

If you want to clean windows I have a few tips from a professional window cleaner, when I took on a casual job window cleaning. I liked the work out on a ledge looking in on the office workers toiling at their desks, while I enjoyed the open air, exercising and making the windows sparkle. We used a chamois, now they use squeegees, so my tips are out dated, the one tip that is still applicable is clean horizontal on one side and vertical on the other so you know where the missed bits are.  A razor blade is handy to remove paint spots and the like. Pay attention to the corners and at my age I must remember I have lost the agility and balance so be careful.

A lot can be seen in or out of a window.

A lot can be seen in or out of a window.

The Sydney, Queen Victoria Building was built 1898 is Renascence architecture and from 1959 to 1971 was occupied by The Sydney County Council. It was 1968 when I was cleaning windows on Q. V. B. and there were no hoists or swinging stages on the building. We had safety belts that hindered your movement and gave a false sense of safety as the old eye-bolts were insecure. The building has been refurbished many times and now is totally restored and packed with upmarket shops; do not miss looking in on it if you visit Sydney.

Window with a good   view.

Window with a good view.

When cleaning the windows of the ladies change room I used to sing, not just because I was happy in my work, but ladies did not expect to see a man outside the window a couple of floors up. My singing was not all that good, but I think it was appreciated.

These ladies were happy to be looked at.

These ladies  in Albany were happy to be looked at.

There are shop windows to be looked in, windows to be looked out of and windows to the mind and windows of opportunity. There are also the Microsoft Windows programs that can be frustrating. When you are finding the computer program not acting as you would like. Take a few deep breaths look out the window and come back to reality.

A cute shop window in Donnybrook W.A.

A cute shop window in Donnybrook W.A.

These are my idea’s on Dawns  Lingering look at windows. 

It is Chrystal clear.

It is Chrystal clear.

Miraculously Interconnected.

Misty morning sun.

Misty morning sun.

The sun shines, the rain falls and the seed germinates. The sun provides the energy, the earth the nutrients and the rain the moisture. The seed draws its power from the sun, its moisture from the rain and nutrients from the earth. This is a simple explanation a detailed account would be too complex and confusing.

Ebb and flow.

Ebb and flow.

The female produces the egg from the nutrients in her body, obtained from the nourishment from the food she has eaten. Likewise the male produces semen. When a couple mate only the strongest one of millions of sperm will reach the egg first. We are the winners in the human race the first out of those millions to live as human beings. Transformed into beings out of the vast cosmos but still part of the interconnected whole.

Reminder of the reality of impermanence.

Reminder of the reality of impermanence.

  The flower of life is consumed or withers and is transformed into compost. Returning as nutrients to the earth this is the cycle of life. Nothing is wasted or destroyed it only changes form. Man has progressed in understanding over the last two or three thousand years. Empty space is not empty and the colour of the flower is not the colour we see, we see the colour that has not been absorbed by the flower it is the same with any other thing we look at.  We now realise the world is not flat or the centre of everything.

Inside the cave.

Inside the cave.

Primitive man needed an explanation for natural phenomena.  Man has an insatiable curiosity and a big ego, if we do not know we think up a logical hypotheses and work with it till it is proven or disproven. Thunder, lightening,  droughts and floods were explained with the invention of gods.  Today some of the gods are folk law, others have become myths, others fight on for supremacy. While some men still struggle searching for answers, others pray to their gods.

Above the storm clouds.

Above the storm clouds.

A monolithic single God could be the way to find peace but first we need to agree on which god and which prophet, or we will still have problems like Israel and Palestine.

Behind the clouds the sun still shines.

Behind the clouds the sun still shines.

Everything in time must change, when will people change with the times?

Rainbows appear.

Rainbows appear.

It is time we realised nature is a delicate balance everything is an interconnected part of the whole cosmos. Nature is infinite man is mortal. To declare war on nature by meddling in its balance is hastening our extinction. Man is a part of the natural system but not an essential part. Man has become a parasite that is in danger of killing its host.

In nature all is subject to change.

In nature all is subject to change.

We have to conserve, buying only what we need and not waste precious resources on war. Our commercial system has to change from a greedy, throwaway society to a caring compassionate one.

All things are passing like waves passing.

All things are passing like waves passing.

Not only the flower withers and dies, all things are subject to change, all things are passing. Completing the circle of life and becoming nourishment for the new eternal life. As Mr Spock said to Captain Kirk,” There is life on the planet Captain but not as we know it.” Another helpful quote “The Tao that can be described is not the real Tao.” These words are attributed to Lau Tzu. Along with religions I will put all the gods in the too hard basket; I dare not put them in the egg basket as gods are often violent and vengeful while eggs are fragile and vulnerable.

"I protect my eggs."

“I protect my eggs.”

Man does not need threats or bribes from a god and a religious hierarchy to goad them to live in harmony. What is needed is the understanding that all things are constantly changing and interdependent. One then realises that greed, hate and ignorance are the cause of discord. The survival of the fittest is misunderstood, the reality is the survival of a species is trust and sharing. There is no action without a like reaction. The reaction to force is resistance, love and kindness is not met with resistance. If one wants respect they must be respectable, what one gives one gets, this is the law of karma.

My view of one distant perspective.

My view of one distant perspective.

Born out of the world from the earth I came. Into the earth I will return home. This is the cycle of life; let no one mourn the change. Clinging and wanting what is impermanent is against the laws of nature and brings only grief, change is unavoidable.  When the transition comes to me, do not cry, I have been freed from my body. The person is now as the grass that grows; cows may turn the grass to milk. The flowers will bloom; I will be pushing up those daises. The birds will still sing in the entire vast array that makes a day and the non-existent separate I will be once more united with the all.

Can you see a cow and calf?

Can you see another animal eating with the cow?

What is name  this rose?

What is the name of this rose?

What’s In a Name?

Known to no one Jack plays for fun.

Known to no one Jack plays for fun.

Jack Caldwell is an ordinary name for an ordinary person. I can work and make this name into a name of acclaim and transform my ordinary self into an extraordinary person.  With hard work and perseverance, I have been told anyone can achieve this. It is this well-trodden path that many people choose, to make their name of acclaim.

Sam Baroo would play for you.

Sam Baroo would play for you.

Do I want to join the jostling crowd clawing their way to an inevitable end, no my friend. I do not want to look back down the steep, rugged trail to see a joyless journey. I would rather sing and dance, love and romance, in tune with the song of a bird. Painting a picture of contentment I can then depart without resentment.

With much more talent than Jack.

With much more talent than Jack.

To make a name for myself I will use imagination and make my own name by lateral thinking. From all the heroes of the past the name I choose must outlast, withstanding the test of time, a name outstanding, and sublime. I have the phone book in my grasp but all the names appear ordinary. No name that rings a bell that will resound to waken everyone around, a peal that is appealing bringing forth a joyous feeling. This name must chime throughout the land a name so wondrous and grand.

Still most people never look back.

Still most people never look back.

I will graffiti my words, every place one must visit, and sign my signature for all to see, so everyone will remember me. Words of wisdom I will write, you will recall them late at night, to fill your dreams of wondrous things. I will paint my way every day, in every alley and walkway. Signing my name for all to see and you will remember me, for my pictures and calligraphy.  As I travel far and wide my music will be heard it will inspire happiness and dance. I will sing and play my ukulele, when you hear my music, you will give credit to my pseudonym, and say Sam Baroo the incredible, plain Jack will be forgotten. There will be no ‘play it again Sam’.

This is not Casablanca, no one says Play it again Sam..

This is not Casablanca, no one says Play it again Sam..

Without a self I will have no ego, no driving force to goad me on, I will live in peace and contentment. Let Sam Baroo take all the credit. His fame will not be ever lasting time conquers all in passing and nothing is permanent.

Jack paints but never expects to be hung.

Jack paints but never expects to be hung.

Stand centre stage Sam ‘as you like it’ take your bows while Jack stands in the wings enjoying the performance. “All the worlds a stage”, said Jack.  Sam’s teeth, Sam’s eyes, Sam’s everything.

My kind of advertising.

My kind of advertising.

 A new type of rose could be called Sam Baroo. I wonder how many varieties of roses there were in Shakespeare days. It sounds like they all had the same sweet smell, but one named Montague was a problem;

Juliet had no aversion, “Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.”

This prompts me to say, “Where does that leave you Sam Baroo?”

A beautiful rose fits all occasions, both happy and sad.

A beautiful rose fits all occasions, both happy and sad.

Juliet would say, “O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet;”

Could this be the daughter of Al Martino's Painted Tainted Rose.

Could this be the daughter of Al Martino’s Painted Tainted Rose.

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