THE TABLE

Dear People,

I am writing this letter to tell you about myself.

I am a table, not just any table...I am ‘the’ table.

Well, in my home I am commonly known as ‘the table’.  I don’t understand why all tables are called ‘table’.  It is like my friends around me, there are generally six and they all have the same name too, ‘chair’.  They are all called the same.  The people in my home have different names and they all look different, but not the chairs around me.  Maybe I am special because I am the only one with the name ‘table’.

I live in a house, not too big, not too small.  I am the exact size to match the family that surround me often throughout the day, the evening and sometimes; through the night (this all depends on events in my home).  I see, experience and feel lots of things happening in the kitchen. Oh yes, that is where I live, in the kitchen, with my mates chair, chair, chair, chair, chair and of course, chair.

I am pretty normal and an ordinary looking kitchen table.  Being of timber construction with my top of four planks stained a sandy-greenish-gray hew I think I look good. I have modestly strong shapely legs that manage to support not only my weight but also the weight of much food.  There are times when I feel other weight of the emotional kind upon me.  Humans have weighty problems and issues sometimes.

It is lucky that I am also able to support the limbs and heads of many people when their life becomes tough.  I have felt human tears upon me, so I hope the smell of my wood helps them as their head is resting on me.  My owners describe me as being timbered, rustic, knobbly legs and of a rectangular shape.  It sounds ok to me.

People seem to talk a lot, especially when they are happy, sad or angry.  Don’t misunderstand me, I have no way of hearing things other than though vibration echoing through the room and through my timber but I know what is going on though, from my perspective that is.

Tables and other wooden things are often seen as objects that are made from dead trees but the reality is that although the tree that forms my presence has gone, the timber remains alive.  It is cellular and still alive. 

Perhaps you have seen timber that has been bumped, dented and damaged.  Over time the dents and damage seems to recover to a degree...well, this is why.  Mind you, I still have chips out of my leg that will be there forever, that is until my leg falls of and I am thrown away I suppose.  Perhaps I will be recycled and live a renewed life as something else.  Or even become a part of the earth like fertiliser and help flowers grow.

As I become older and relive my past experiences I become more grateful for being a table.  I have seen many things and, I have been of service.

There is honour of having lived a life of service.  Although I am an old wooden table, in my own way I have helped to support people and this is my way of being of service.

People, the family in my house, have sat around me many thousands of times and I have enjoyed their company whether it was for good times or not so good times.  I can’t talk for the chairs, they don’t express themselves but that is possibly good because that means that the chairs can’t complain.

Back to the family, they were two big and two small people and then there were another two small ones.  When these two very small people arrived the big people were very happy.  There was music, dancing, singing and lots and lots of food.  I think it is called a ‘party’.

Then two others that were really, really old came and lived in our home.

One day a small one was not around anymore and later one of the old ones went...somewhere.  When these people went, the others, the two big ones and the last little one, who had become bigger, were very sad.  They ate lots of food then and I could feel great sadness. There was no music and dancing. 

I don’t understand, what happened to the one old one and the young one, perhaps they went and became fertiliser like I might one day and help flowers grow.

There was sometimes a lot of thinking, writing and discussion upon me, the table.  At times there were really loud vibrations accompanied by thumping on me, shouting even.  I later heard that these were called homework, the boyfriend and ‘why on earth did I let her have the car keys.’  I don’t understand though.

It is not really my place to understand.  But it is my place to stand in the kitchen and be supportive, regardless of things placed upon me or simply to be a resting place.

I am proud of being a table.  I have been a good utility and have been of service.

Yours sincerely,

Table.

Verde.

ONE'S OWN COUNSEL

A sheep, alpaca and kangaroo lesson.

I have enjoyed the luxury of being surrounded by open space, peace and tranquillity on a country property for a while now. Living on top of a very large hill with the muted sounds and silence of the bush, I never realised what it really means to be surrounded by wild and domestic animals and how they communicate.

From various distant trees the birds call to each other, the kangaroos tend to communicate more by body language than grunting and the sheep, alpacas, cattle and horses communicate vocally but generally, if they feel uncomfortable, they walk off.   

It is quite normal for wild kangaroos and the domestic sheep and alpacas to hang around peacefully together in the same paddock.  They are different species, at the one time, feeding at the same dinner table or simply resting.  I have never seen any show of disharmony.

The animals live and let live.  They don’t meddle, interfere, argue or attack other animals.  There is room for all at the dinner table.  Besides eating they often follow each other around (especially the sheep and alpacas).  But if feeling uncomfortable they simply wander off or hop away.

Then there is the human animal. 

Some human animals object to others being at the same dinner table, or the same function as those of a different colour such as white, black, yellow, brown etc.

Some humans may object to sharing with those of a different culture, from a different social group or have a different accent. 

People are interesting, we learn from their behaviour.  There are those in our society who ensure they know everybody’s business and meddle where it is not warranted and their efforts are unwanted. Following, they seem to think it is their right to spread everyone’s' business around with anyone who will listen.  Thus, the listener very often has little interest but pays attention to be polite.  I am unsure whether the offender does it to demonstrate their knowledge of others or, to display their willingness to help others or, to make themselves feel good or lastly, they have nothing better to do or talk about.  

There are people who continually use subversive questioning techniques to dig for personal or business information about individuals and then spread the word to numerous others. There are times when they do not realise it is wrong, if not immoral.  It may be considered a component of sharing, however if it is done without permission, it is breach of confidentially, privacy.  They think they are smart and undetected.  But this deluded thinking is erroneous as perhaps others have always known but chose to say nothing.  What happens?  Once it is realised, people who have been transgressed and their personal and/or business information compromised, trust in the offender has been lost and consequently, will not tolerate this behaviour and walk away.

Why can't some people just sit quietly and enjoy being with others and talk normal social things instead of talking about others and trying to subvert and sneakily gain information?  Like, WTFC? (Who The Stuff Cares).

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Throughout my life, there have only been three or four people close to me who never talk about other people and their business or personal lives.  Those people were my mother, father, sister and my very best friend of over 20 years.  All of these folk are intelligent humans.  For hours we would sit quietly and discuss food, music, philosophy, the arts, politics, travel and cars etc.  It was never boring, was consistently interesting and thought provoking and never crossed others' boundaries.

Sometimes we could also sit together in our own thoughts and never speak at all.  Nearly all of them are gone now and I very much miss them. 

In the animal kingdom, I am sure kangaroos never feel they have to show one-upmanship, (except in breeding season to show the ladies they are the alpha male), nor how much they know about others and gossip.  The same is for the sheep and alpacas. They simply live their life as a farm or wild animal does, with survival and enjoyment of their circumstances.  They do not have to prove anything to anyone.  No point scoring.

Why can’t the human animal have this acceptance and grace for what they have been given and simply live life without having to prove they know more about people than the average Joe and point score.

If it is a matter of point scoring, there is only one score board, one scorer and one competitor.  With only one competitor, the score is null and void and it cancels itself out with the sore of nil and therefore the sole competitor has nothing, zilch, zero.

Does this happen in the non-human animal world? 

Does our human intelligence facilitate this, or are the non-human animals smarter?

Let us all share the same dinner table and respect privacy.

Verde.

HEAR THE VOICE

The Voice of the Child

Who is she?

What is her story?

'The Milky Bar Kid'  - (Oil on Canvas)

Art by Gerlinde

What is the story of 'The Milky Bar Kid' in the above picture?

If she could tell us her story, if we could hear her voice, what would she say?

Where we came from, what our forebears were like and, are our behaviour and decisions influenced by them and where and how we were brought up?

 Do we really understand why we act and live the way we do?

Sure, whilst researching our family history we may have collected birth, death, divorce certificates, wills, school reports, letters, certificates, awards, property documents, bills, publications where our family names are mentioned.  Of course, we have also collected various family mementoes such as grandfather’s pipe or cigarette box, grandmas watch, her glasses doileys, assorted plates, cups and various other things such as jugs, statues and pictures.

We have collected and saved all these things because they mean something to us and portray a life lived of someone we have loved but passed on.

By keeping things, it helps us to continue the love and remember people from our past.  In fact, although they are in the past, they remain present in our lives.

Indeed, we have very fond memories which we all treasure and refuse to let go.  This is love. We must never forget because it is our memories of past family members that remind us of whom we are and where we belong.  It is a way of feeling at home and we are at home wherever we are and remember and feel where we belong.

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Throughout the world Indigenous people not only pass down their native language to children but also tribal and family stories to ensure the history, legends, beliefs and language are continued on throughout the ages.  If this is not done, once the stories, legends and language is gone, they are gone forever.  

If little care is taken, history and all that is attached to the tribe and family are so easily lost. Once lost, it is almost impossible to revive.

Thus it is with families in the modern world.

We have paper and sometimes digital records of family history as well as the mementoes and family treasures.

However, the thing that is often missing are the stories from grandma and grandpa, mum and dad, siblings, uncles and aunts, cousins etc.  

Although we may have documented and written the family stories which are evidence based via papers and other family members memories, there is so much more we can collect to gain a better knowledge of our family history.

Take a deliberate action, make time with the family and use what is needed to listen to mum, dad, grandma, grandpa, brothers and sisters and even long time family friends.

The memories need to be audio or video recorded for prosperity.  

Sure mum and dad may have told their stories over and over and over again, seemingly ad nauseum at times, but there is also so much more to be told and so much more to be discovered.

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My parents passed on many years ago yet here I am older, perhaps wiser, but now I have been thinking about things I would like to ask mum and dad.

Like, why did they do this, that or whatever, how come they ended up in so and so and the biggie...what on earth was that big argument about and why was mum so upset at something dad said while out on a special occasion dinner at a really fancy restaurant?  I have the photo, mum still looks absolutely furious!

Then, there is the question, why was my dad and his brother not talking for so many years?

Can I find out?  No, they are all deceased., and whatever these things were all about...is gone.   The truth of the stories are gone forever.

There is so much more to learn by taking time and care to sit down with the older generation, encourage them to talk and verbally record their stories.  You will be very surprised what you will find out.  You may even gain a new understanding and clear some unknown misconceptions.

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Perhaps have a monthly special supper with one family member and after dinner, sit, talk and listen.  Not only hear their story, but listen, really listen. Oh, and don't forget to press the 'record' button.

Sure continue collecting all the family history documents and articles, but one of the most valuable things in your collection is recorded memories.

Don't wait til the oldies and their memories fade, think about the next family gathering, a birthday celebration, wedding anniversary, public holiday, barbecue, picnic or whatever, ask grandma what life was like when she was a kid.  Did she have many play mates, what was school like, who was her best friend?

Hint:  Ask open questions such as ‘why’, ‘how come’, 'what did you feel’? etc.

Folks, by doing it sooner rather than later, you may be at grandma's final gathering and she may never again be able to tell you about her life fully lived and experienced.

Cheers,

VERDE.

FAMILY ARCHIVES

Family history can be as mysterious as the 'Twilight Man'

In shadow, hidden or fading and perhaps waning into obscurity

'Twilight Man' - Oil on paper Art by Gerlinde

Since a young gal, I have wanted my own museum.  With that in mind, I have been collecting personal things that represent my life throughout the decades. 

We all know that our personal history of our family and our lives are not only of interest to others, but our personal history will help descendants form a picture of where they came from and what life was like ‘back in the day’.

There are many of us who research and document our family history using online databases, historic records, newspapers, books, journals, personal diaries and videos on mobile devices, Youtube, Facebook and other similar tools.  Naturally, these are all saved in both paper and digital format.

As much as we investigate our families and document how we live, there are generally a number of other relatives in the same family who research and collect similar information and artefacts.  Although much of the research is duplicated, there is always other information and evidence found that was not previously known.  However, all the records and artefacts are often held at separate locations.

The crucial fact to realise is that with different members of the same family collecting similar things, it is extremely important that all the data and artefacts are both maintained as securely as possible whilst being conserved for posterity.

Naturally, the holding place for conservation has to be protected from insects and climatic elements of which the most dangerous is dust, heat, water and damp.

Now, as much as we love being the holder of artefacts such as medals, photos, diaries, books and perhaps clothing and jewellery, it seems a shame for us all to separately save what we as individuals have been passed down to us or collected. 

It may be more beneficial to house the whole family collection in the one place.  However I stress, the collection must be held in a secure location.

That secure place does not have to be a bank vault that is not easily accessible, although a home safe is good.

Instead I am advocating the use of a particular shelf in a cabinet or cupboard.  But if you are really lucky and have enough that can be displayed in a small spare room that is no longer being used, that would be excellent!

Realistically though, the easiest idea is to allocate space in a book or display case or somewhere similiar but make sure it is secure but still accessable.

The displaying or maintaining of a special place for ‘The Family Archives’ provides a place where we, the children, grandchildren, aunts, uncles or other family members can gain understanding and perhaps explain why we as individuals and family members ‘are’ as we ‘are’.

By setting up a room or area as a holding area for our family history, where we came from and what life has been like for our previous familial generations, it provides an opportunity to:

1.     Educate the grandchildren

2.     Show others how far the family have come

3.   Show how much the family have achieved

4.   Reveal that under extreme circumstances anything can be achieved

5.     Think you have it tough?  have a look at great-grandpa's life

It also demonstrates and encourages:

Pride in the family

Continuance of the family history

      The importance of family in society

Family is the essence of society and continuation of social mores and ways of being.

Every now and then it is great fun for everyone to gather around the Family Archives, tell stories add things to it.  It helps build and cement sometimes family-strained relationships and have a laugh.

Cheers,

Verde.

THE OLD TIN DRUM

An old tin drum washes up on a beach.  The old tin drum may be all washed up but does it matter? What of that viewpoint?  The viewpoint is even less consequential than the fact that the drum has washed and rolled upon the beach.

The beach may be sandy, which is more pleasant for the drum, or the beach may be rocky and uncomfortable especially whilst being wedged between a rock and a hard place.  It does not matter what is on the beach, nor the location.  The drum is comfortable wherever and with whatever.  The drum has completed its utilitarian purpose and achieved what it was meant to, but a question remains.  Is the drum fulfilled.

As the old tin drum lay on the beach, the soft gentle waves rock the tired, rusted, dented and battered drum.  The paint is peeling and flaking but the drum still enjoys lying in the sun. 

The end is never near for the old tin drum as life continues regardless of time and tides, storms and impacts with assorted flotsam and jetsam.  Floating, constantly moving as the ocean, seemingly languid.

  

§

The old tin drum has experienced being handled as a drum would.  Rolled around, jostled, shoved, pushed and felt hands caressing the once smooth surface which is now pitted.  The drum enjoyed being rested upon and also held great pleasure as hands beat out happy, joyful rhythms as the drum found comfort of the pulsing resonation within.

To the drum, all sounds inside and out, no matter what their form, was music.

The old tin drum is very familiar many sounds, wind, wave, the clap of thunder, ships, machinery and so on.  The sound of the human voice is comforting. Mainly calm, peaceful, rational and loving voices, it was the resonation that is most soothing to the drum.

Sometimes the drum felt the sound of anger and it bothered the drum as that type of resonation was uncomfortable, not quite music but, that’s life.

The drum was once attached to another, united, and although time and tide separated them, they remain connected by an invisable silver thread and the old tin drum will forever enjoy the resounding love of love’s resonance.

The drum knows it will soon be of little use and have less utilitarian purpose but to simply rest on a beach listening to past drumming, resonating love, and memories.

Now, the only sound that old tin drum hears is the resonating echo of the heart.

The sound of an old tin drum.

The echo of a heart remains the most pleasurable resonance.

Verde

TOEING THE LINE

Winning or toeing the finish line is not everything.

To win is to enjoy muscles, tendons, body and mind working fluidly in synch and harmony.

        'On The Beach' - oil on paper
Art by Gerlinde

As some people, I have an interest in sport although I do not participate.

I occasionally follow football, cricket and more recently cycling such as the Tour de France and, Formula 1 motor racing.  I do not see Formula 1 as a sport per sae because the device (the car), plays a greater role in victory than the athleticism and talents of the driver in comparison to a bat, ball, javelin or hurdles of other athletes.   However, winning is determined by the first past the post or, the first toe over the line.

Albeit, in all sports or activities there requires some form of bodily physical activity because simply, we could not move nor have any form of mobility if it were not for blood, acids (such as lactic), bone, muscle, tendons and sinews, not to mention our organs of brain, heart and lungs etc.  Naturally it follows that high, middle, low or recreational level athletes all use the same fluids, organs, tissues etc. in their chosen sport or activity.

Everyone at some stage in their lives has walked, run, jumped, swam, thrown, tossed, lifted or punched (in a nice way) not only in sport but as a part of normal life.

Athletes at all levels concentrate on the performance of themselves as a whole but also at the micro levels of their bodies. In practice, all sports people whilst performing, think about what their muscles are doing, how they feel and also, how the overall body reacts in unison with tendons and muscles.  Take for instance a swimmer who is training for a marathon.  That swimmer concentrates on the arms making smooth long strokes with not only the legs and feet assisting the propulsion but also the economy of effort to maximise the momentum with the least effort in order to sustain momentum over a long distance.

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I was a swimmer and my personal ‘thing’ was to mentally make my body as light as possible whilst trying to swim on top of the water instead of swimming through it, thereby creating less drag. Whilst swimming I would concentrate not only on trying to lift my body higher out of the water but also on the action of my shoulders, upper and lower arms, belly, hips, upper and lower legs, feet and ankles.   I especially love my hips feeling loose and limber.  When I had it all together it felt absolutely fabulous...if not euphoric!

It is not that one is constantly thinking about these things but rather, I found I gained much pleasure from not only feeling the muscles alternatively becoming taught and relaxing but I loved the feeling of the tightening and relaxation of my tendons in my ankles and feet.

Without thinking we all walk, run, stretch or simply mobilise ourselves when driving, cooking, cleaning and even watching television or reading.  No matter how stagnant we feel, our muscles are moving, sometimes minutely yet, in these times (besides others) we do not fully appreciate not only our mobility, but the seemingly magic of it and how it feels.

When I am swimming I see and feel like a seal.  It is my automatic mind set or ‘way of being’ in water.  I have a very stong affinity for water.  Like k.d. lang who was a crow in a former life, I was a seal. 

Animals and other creatures demonstrate moods and emotions like us humans but also, when you see a seal swimming, you can see the joy.  

As the crow flies with wings outstretched does it not look like that crow feels good?  Even in the tree, singing or voicing to other birds...can you hear what I hear, the sound of pride and pleasure in being a crow but also communicating with bird song?  

Consider the freedom both the seal and crow have, the freedom to soar and sing and enjoy what and how they are.  Consider what we have, the same as the seal and crow however, we perhaps have the intellect to enjoy our muscle and tendon movement more than the seal and crow and like other creatures, we enjoy feelings of movement.

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Just for a moment, look at your index finger, bend it over one joint at a time, see how it bends, picture the inside anatomy and working mechanics, experience the feeling and enjoy the wonder.

Take your shoes and socks off and stand up.  Now, yes now!

Look down at your feet. Feel the air on and around your feet and the ankle.  Feel the flooring as your foot flattens.  Feel the air on your skin.  Press your toes into the carpet or flooring and feel the textures, feel your toes as they press down on the floor, bend one foot up and feel how wonderful it is as the muscle in your calf tightens.  Roll your foot around in a circle and concentrate on the feelings generated by muscles, tendons and sinews.  

Do it again and be mindful of how both your foot and mind feels in conjunction and you will then begin to think differently about your body and begin to be mindful on the enjoyment of simple body movement and how wonderful your body is as a whole.

In sport or recreation, we tend to think and focus more on becoming, faster, better and ‘doing it right’.  However in exclusively focusing on the game we sometimes lose sight of the simple pleasure.  And that simple pleasure is not only the game but it is also on the incredibly simplicity of the mechanics of our body.  More importantly is the joy and wonder as we feel the individual pieces move both as single entities and as a whole unit.

That is the joy.  Admittedly a personal joy, but it is ours to gain pleasure from in the simplest of movements.  

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Pay attention to every single body movement and you will be in awe.  It this awe that will provide you with many surprises and pleasure.  In turn, you will learn to love and appreciate what your body does for you and, reap the beneficial rewards.

When next at the seaside, stand by the edge of the waves, your toes and feet past the waterline and enjoy your feet digging into the wet gritty sand as the cold, perhaps crisp icy water washes around your ankles...pure enjoyment!

Now, for me, back to the pool...the pool room that is.

Cheers,

Verde.