Maybe
Where to, now.
Somewhere beyond the raucous dichotomy, is a Sacred Tree.
A Grandmother Tree, perhaps.
Gathered beneath her, are an array of individuals (if such a thing exists).
Curious and willing. Hearts open and optimistic.
Here, there is ample space for a constellation of MAYBES.
A couple of years ago, as my Mother went through treatment at the Alfred for Lymphoma, we each took turns staying with her in an apartment in the city. As often as we could muster the energy, we would go for walks around the block.
On one such occasion, we walked past a vacant patch of land between buildings.
Wow - an empty lot! I thought. I wonder what will end up being built here.
Instantly my mind was taken with cynicism.
Probably another ugly, unnecessary skyscraper.
I caught myself mid head shake.
Or MAYBE, (I countered myself) something magnificent might become of this place.
I started to imagine a vintage style carousel with hand painted animals.
I imagined a popcorn stand run by a person in colourful suspenders and a bright red hat, who delighted in the customers they served.
I envisioned a pond that was clean enough for wading in. With children up to their knees, trying to pet the resident family of friendly ducks.
I pictured an open field beyond the large oak trees, where families were flying kites together.
I imagined games of chess and daisy chains and butterflies and flowers and bees and laughter and strangers greeting each other cheerfully.
MAYBE we can take a place under this big wise tree and see what is possible.
MAYBE we can cultivate a vast imaginarium between us all and for us all.
MAYBE our modern chronic disconnection, isolation and illness can be remedied by observing and learning from our First Nationsβ Kinship with the land, the waters and the sky.
MAYBE there is something powerful for us in the understanding that Spirit and Soil are one.
An interconnection that reaches beyond our current compartmentalisations.
A fusion of the seen and unseen.
Interwoven and inseparable.
MAYBE we could benefit from remembering our oneness.
That when we tear down our trees, we are erasing our own roots.
That when we dig and mine further than is necessary, we disrupt an ecology that is beyond our comprehension.
That this affects all parts of us - the earth, the air, the animal, the human - the ecosystem.
MAYBE one day we too can know each rock and creature by name.
MAYBE we can begin to understand ourselves outside of our individualist paradigm. Perhaps we can learn what it is to be and have a Mob. The history of from whom and where we came, and the people that presently surround us.
MAYBE we might walk together across Country and learn of the plethora of amazing bush food and medicine. Of synergies that could vastly enrich our lives. Maybe we might learn to conserve it all for the benefit of generations to come, and the overall health of the magnificent landscape.
MAYBE the issues and hardships that have ailed Indigenous People since we arrived, can begin to be remedied with the Mystical Art of Being Seen.
Of being heard.
Of respect.
Of celebration.
Of restoration and return.
MAYBE we might learn what it is to trust our design enough to bring forth life under a birthing tree. To be surrounded by experienced women as we embody this rite of passage. To seek the stories of those who have done this for millenia.
MAYBE we will see a day where we can consider ourselves friends. Where we mourn together what has been lost. Where we plant a seed of what could be.
MAYBE there is beauty beyond the ballot.
Maybe no matter what happens, we can choose love, respect and curiosity.
Maybe this has already begun somewhere, under a shared sky and an ancient tree.
Maybe in you.




Oh gosh, tears πππ Beautiful words Lysette πππ