One way to help make the world a better place


There was a time when I thought the human race wasn’t worth anything. Our world in such a state of disconnection and discord – crimes against humanity, violation of our planet home, and local communities obsessed with ‘success’ at the cost of all else. Corporate greed, personal gratification, governmental corruption, ignorance and neglect at a family and neighbourhood level. Ethics of a gutter rat. Too grim to comprehend a future.

My darkest days were upon me. Mental ill-health ruled my life, and I sank into isolation. Wild creatures were my friends, my only friends – backyard birds, lizards and snakes, frogs and bugs. Any and all of Mother Nature’s animals that would allow me into their space. I all but gave up on people.

Although my love and appreciation of nature has not diminished, my hope for humanity has grown many-fold. Violence against humanity and Earth, on a global scale, if anything, has increased: terrorism, inequity, persecution, greed, materialism. BUT my thought processes and outlook have changed. My perspective is more grown up, more universal, more positive, more charitable. My view is holistic and comes from a place of love instead of a place of fear.

Despite the world’s massive and apparently irreparable woes, I can sense an undercurrent of goodness, of change, of connection that transcends nationality and social standing. There is an energy of universal love spreading through humanity, causing a shift in attitude.

The catalyst for this energy is self-love and self-compassion. Not a love that involves the ego, rather, a self-love that must replace self-loathing for any growth on a soul level to occur. We (you and me, the elderly crippled woman, the business man, the retiree, the janitor, the school teacher, the single parent, the barrister, the troubled youth, the  homeless, the refugees), we can help heal the wold ONLY if we can find the courage or develop the capacity to love ourselves and work on healing our OWN pain, our own past hurt and grief.

When we are able to accept our past ‘stories’ for the necessary and beneficial lessons that they have truly been, we are then able to heal and move forward. As this process begins, we begin to change, we become aware of who we are and why we’ve been where we’ve been, and why we’re here. And then we can not help but live from a place of love that inspires others and triggers a ripple effect of soul growth far and wide.

One seemingly insignificant individual who doesn’t have a spare dollar to give to those less fortunate than  him/herself, can help heal the world simply by living authentically and unashamedly from a place of love. And it is my unwavering belief that this is the REAL giving.

learning to love yourself is the best way to help heal the world

An effort to let life wash over me effortlessly

Waves rolling in slowly

Humans are drawn to water. It’s more than just survival instinct; it seems to be an intrinsic human requirement for self-reflection. Any pleasant natural setting will provide a fitting atmosphere in which to contemplate life and self, but for me, the sound or view of water is the ultimate place for thought and introspection.

I love being immersed in water, cool and refreshing, but I can also appreciate the value and pleasure in simply watching the water. The process of ebb and flow of the waves, or various pace of the journey of a waterway is endlessly beautiful to my senses, anywhere, anytime.

On the beach, the waves roll in with gusto, lose momentum, and spread over the sand melding with whatever is in its path, offering no resistance to obstacles, trickling backwards to blend with the water around it, and continuing to BE.

That’s what I’m aiming for. That is my goal: to emulate the harmony, wisdom, and acceptance of NATURE BEING NATURE.

When my world is rocked, to recognise that it’s all part of my journey, to let it happen, to let it teach me, to let it strengthen me, and then to let it go – that is the way to grow, to change, and to ultimately lead me and those around me to a better place.

I’ve still got a lot to learn about letting life flow over me like water. Other people’s opinions of me are none of my business – and if people treat me poorly, I am well aware that it shows their character rather than mine. I’m doing well with that bit. I get it. But I can’t always disregard this, and at times I even begin to doubt my choices.

It takes incredible inner work to learn to let it all flow over me spontaneously. Whilst ever this flow does not come naturally, whilst ever I suffer other people disrespecting my space and choices, I am digging further into the rut I find myself in.

My progress is slow, but positive. Writing helps me to evaluate situations and to process information. It is my hope that my writing also helps others. Meanwhile, I will absorb the beauty and wonderment of the water’s effortless journey.

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Do we consume fear?

I am not well versed in how ‘energy’ works. All I know, is that we’re all connected by Universal energy, energetic threads, a web, that connects us all – so that one action or thought on one side of the world can, and does, affect people and conditions on the other side of the world.

A visit to the cattle sale-yards was an eye-opener for me, a spectacle that affected me emotionally, on a soul level. It heightened my sense of right and wrong, prompted me to ask myself questions.

Humans treat animals like a commodity to be used, abused, like it is our birthright to get every possible inch out of an animal’s life. It reminded me of old movies where black slaves were traded, used, abused.

Cattle housed in a grassy paddock in their ‘usual’ environment have warm gentle faces, deep eyes that reflect the peace that is their life; a slow life of farm routine.

The eyes of the cattle at the sale-yard betrayed the fear they were experiencing. Fear thrust upon them as their routine was interrupted with the herding up ramps into trucks. Crowded. Foreign. Fear as they are transported, unloaded, penned. Waiting. Moved from pen to pen, yarded, loaded again, trucked again. To where? Most will go to feedlots to be fattened on unnatural food, with no shade, no grass, no opportunity to exercise. When they meet human standards, they’ll be loaded and trucked again, to an abattoir. More fear as they breathe in the stench of death; death of their own kind.

An old white bull is shuffled from one pen to another. The beast is past its use-by date, done its job, completed its life’s purpose. It slides as it enters the pen ungainly, struggles to regain a solid footing, but falls. It is injured and can’t stand, but it does get up. Both hind legs are hurt, the right is worse than the left. No wounds, just tired legs that can’t withstand the foreign treatment. It falls again. A tear escapes my eye as I watch from the public platform above the animals.

The bulls remains are probably destined for the canned pet food market, or for beef patties for fast food chains. Why? Why can’t that beast be respectfully retired to a paddock, or at least shot in the head at the back of the farm and pushed into a  hole?

Does that old bull not deserve to be disposed of in a kindly manner? How much is its carcass worth in dollar figures to the industry it has served? In what condition will that poor animal arrive at the slaughterhouse? And what fear and pain will it be forced to endure on the onward journey?

There is a young healthy steer singled out, alone in a pen without the comfort of his kind for company. A human walks past and the animal moves to the other corner of the tiny pen. Its eyes are the image of fear. Agitated, it tries to make a noise, but fails. It froths at the mouth. I turn to leave. I have seen enough.

I must add, the workers at this facility did not mistreat the animals. I witnessed proficiency and care. It is the expectation of meat in the supermarket cold shelves that causes the problem.

I ask myself: Do we consume their fear at the top of the food chain? The energy? A steak on my plate – does it still contain threads of the animal’s fear? There are issues and morals to ponder here.

My taste-buds have always won over my ethics when it comes to consideration of vegetarianism. But, I feel sickened by my contribution to the poor treatment of animals raised for the table – the insatiable diet of meat. Yes, I contribute because I eat meat and animal products.

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Touching the life of a stranger

We all touch the lives of strangers, whether we do so deliberately or not, simply by being social creatures. A genuine smile and passing greeting might well be the highlight of that one person’s day. We will never know.


Many years ago, at a time when I was struggling to keep my life together, I found the inner strength to make a positive contribution to one stranger’s life.

While walking through a carpark, I heard the sound of a person sobbing. Initially, I walked past the sound, too afraid of my own inability to cope with anything other than what constituted my own survival, to contemplate offering assistance. But I backtracked, and found a young intellectually impaired man sitting on an outdoor seat, crying into his hands. An older man, his friend? or carer? was trying to console his charge, to no avail.

I sat next to the young man and casually put my arm around his shoulders. He dropped his head to my shoulder, and sobbed. No words from any of us. The sobbing subsided, and he got up, turning to his male companion. They walked inside the Senior Citizens’ building to whatever function was underway.

That’s when I dissolved into tears. I strode off as swift as I could, desperate to avoid speaking to anyone.

I walked home alone, and lonely, in disbelief that I had actually managed to do something worthwhile for a stranger. Helping a face that I would never see again, stayed with me, and inspired me.

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