Visions

Is there a river within the soul that ferries vision after vision into one’s consciousness?

What forces are at work when an idea floods into one’s mind, knocks over all the existing furniture and makes a space for itself way out of proportion to its…. its…well, isn’t it just plain bad behaviour to come in all unannounced and uninvited?

I can’t answer this. What I do know, however, is that once an idea, no matter how trivial, either tip toes or drives a truck across my threshold of my awareness, I had better pay attention. Not only pay attention, but water and nurture the germinating bud into blossom.

Not to do so, is to “not” allow the mysterious hand of divine guidance to give me a proper push (or slap) in the direction I most need to go. Especially, if that direction is about healing my human relationship to this sacred earth.

Which explains why I am strongly behind the effort to organise a one day vigil at Tasmania’s Parliament House on August 19.

After the Styx Valley of the Giants rally, I came away with the feeling that it wasn’t just the speakers speaking well that galvanised a sense of hope among everyone. It was the collective heart-voice of the massed crowd that amplified and lifted up out of the ordinary each speaker’s speech.

A tiny thought then entered into my mind that if this same group of people or more could come together at the opening session of Parliament House with the expressed intent of using their massed silent presence to speak their concerns about Tasmania’s old growth trees, then the politicians inside could not fail but to react in a positive way.

So watch this space. See politicians take vows of humility in front of thousands. See entrenched forestry practices come tumbling down quicker than the Berlin and Jerico Walls.

Most importantly, witness the truly democratic process of public participation.