Travelling – The beach of the balancing stones

Balancing stones beach cairns 1

It’s like the peace hidden and lying in wait in every person’s heart has emerged, just for a few moments. I wonder if they felt it? And I wonder if they experienced a connection with the other travellers they wandered amongst? And I wonder if any person leaving the beach was changed forever?

There are no directional signs, and it’s not an official tourist attraction, yet the beach is obviously visited by thousands of travellers who contribute to the impromptu art. Balancing towers of rocks and stones against a backdrop of tropical ocean, on the road from Port Douglas in far north Queensland to Cairns. I guess it’s rather unique.

Just picture: all cultures, all religions and all faiths, all political persuasions, all sexual orientations, and a full spectrum of social standings mingling, admiring, and feeling part of something simple that is also something special. And knowing that this simple natural expression of cross-cultural creativity is special. Boundaries have been crossed and walls have come down, and everyone is part of a whole. There are no officials telling dark-skinned people to go there or rich people to go here or heterosexuals to go there. Every person is equal and one with everyone else. A celebration of humanity. That’s how the world should be.

I’m disappointed to find, a few months later, that most of the stone stacks are gone. It doesn’t appear to be an act of wanton destruction by humans, but rather, I think Mother Earth has claimed the stones with boisterous stormy seas. More towers of balancing stones are starting replace those washed away, and I hope the process will be repeated so that people from all over the world and from all walks of life can once again leave their positive energy and creativity for all to enjoy.

I sat on the beach this morning amongst the new art pieces to write, imagining cultures mixing, and all going away with a smile in their hearts.

Balancing stones beach cairns 2

 

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.

Roma saleyards 2