Political Purity Laws

Tony Abbott (ex-Prime Minister) and Barnaby Joyce (Deputy Prime Minister) and a slew of other politicians were caught up in the citizenship controversy recently, in Australia. Twelve of them were under threat and four had to resign. Though they were all full Australian citizens, they also had citizenship in one or more other countries, a crime punishable by scorn and, in Tony’s and Barnaby’s case, by threat of eviction – though not actual eviction – from their seats in the House.

But there’s a country not too far away that doesn’t care how many citizenships you have. If you’re a citizen of fifteen countries, as long as one of them is of New Zealand, you can be a New Zealand politician.

But wait: it’s the same in Britain where you can have fifteen citizenships; as long as one is British you can be a British politician.

But hang on: it’s the same in every other country on the planet … every other country except Australia. Oh, okay, they’re a bit picky in China where you need to be a China-born, indigenous Chinese to represent the Chinese people.

So why do Australia and China stand out on this purity trip?

Is there something China and Australia know about those with diverse and interesting backgrounds? Are they more dangerous people? These questions have not been asked, let alone answered, and yet the Political Purity Laws still exist. It takes us back to the Eugenics Movement in the USA, and many other countries, where they legislated for a purer race of Americans … a movement that inspired the Nazi practice of purifying its race by eliminating the poor, mentally ill, blind, deaf, developmentally disabled, promiscuous women, homosexuals and racial groups.

The Eugenics Movement, which flourished particularly in the 1920s and 1930s, was a commonly accepted way of protecting society from those deemed inferior or dangerous – the poor, disabled, mentally ill, criminals and people of colour.

Coerced sterilisations took place in 32 states throughout the 20^th century; more than 20,000 in California and around 60,000 throughout USA.

The Southern states employed sterilisation as a means of controlling their black population. Mississippi Appendectomy was another name for unnecessary hysterectomies performed at teaching hospitals in the South on “women of colour” as practice for medical students.

In North Carolina, one third of sterilisations were done on girls under eighteen, some even as young as nine. The state targeted individuals seen as “delinquent” or “unwholesome”.

But it didn’t stop in the 1930s.

In California, prisons authorised sterilisations of 144 female inmates between 2006 and 2010. The state paid doctors $147,460 to perform tubal ligations that former inmates say were done under coercion. Nearly one third of those 144 California prison inmates who were sterilised did not give lawful consent for the operation.

These “Purity Laws”, as many called them, are a far cry from Australia’s and China’s Political Purity Laws; a very, very far cry. However, is the mentality behind them so very different?

Ten years ago the second-most spoken language in Australia was Indian. Today it’s Chinese. The changing demographic landscape is a cause for celebration or concern, depending on our respective biases. However, putting aside the emotions, we cannot deny or stop the changes. The students I taught in Brisbane came from over 40 different countries and more are coming, despite our fickle immigration laws.

The WASP – the White Anglo-Saxon Protestant (or Catholic) – who once proudly ruled this land is now being swamped by those of different colours, shapes, languages, beliefs, experiences and aspirations.

The News Of The Day, ladies and gentlemen, is that Australia is becoming more diverse by the day and, if we cling to our Political Purity Laws, the WASPs will soon find themselves leading a country in which he/she is a minority figure.

So, let us ask the one question that has not been asked: if someone is a bona fide Australian – passport, citizenship and all the palaver – what does it matter if they bring along, with their Australianess, a diversity of thought and background to this ever-changing country? Is that a no worries situation or a big worries one?

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Mind Controlling the Pulse of Life?

I was last in an operating theatre 58 years ago for the removal of my tonsils. It was not a space I was accustomed to.

I woke from my appendectomy operation – taking out my burst, gangrenous appendix – fighting through the fog of anaesthetics. It was not a normal day when I just got up of my own volition. No, today, the drug world was in control and so I fought valiantly and unsuccessfully.

I tried to stay calm, realising I was not in control, and that distorted my perception. I chatted with the Warriors of Medicine and then allowed myself to lose control and consciousness again. I vaugely remember being wheeled back down the corridor, down in the lift and back to a different bed space. I fondly imagined it was about 8.30 pm and later discovered it was closer to 11.00 pm. My, how time flies when you’re having fun … or an operation that goes for five times as long as anticipated.

This bed space was directly opposite the nurses’ station and, as I was wheeled into place, I was besieged by eight caring and chattering medics. The reason for this new bed space and the concern was that my pulse was down to 39 while I slept and shot up to 50 when I woke. I tried to explain that my 30 years of meditation had given me some control over my body. I tried, in my drowsy state, to explain that I had requested my body to save as much energy for healing as it could and the unseasonably 39 could be the result of that request. Then, to deal with the state of wakeful sense-making, I had to power my machine up. It happened every time thereafter – 39 while asleep and 50 as soon as I woke. It was a mystery to them and none considered my possible explanation. They probably thought I was bonkers.

What seemed to get in the way of my message was resistance to the thought that we have any mind control over our bodies. The only influence we have, they seemed to think, was at the same level as the body itself; the physical bodily level of knives, needles and chemicals.

We know what we believe. We see what we know. And, if we believe the mind doesn’t affect the body, that’s what we’ll come to know and, therefore, what we’ll observe. I knew I couldn’t change any perceptions – except the ones that wanted to be changed – and simply smiled and beamed out my okayness.

I was fortunate to have spent three months with Jimmy, an Aboriginal elder, near Alice Springs some 15 years ago. I also spent two days with John Imi, a Hopi elder. Both of these men showed me the power of the mind over the body; Jimmy becoming invisible before my eyes and John explaining how his people affected the growth of corn with song and loving thoughts.

My mind was opened to its power and it would not have been if it wasn’t open to being opened!

It’s now morning and the tribe of doctors is visiting and assessing their patients, a phrase heavy with the scent of control, their serious faces giving testimony to the gravity of their beliefs.

At the same time, I overheard a nurse telling my nurse, Nerisza, that it’s so lovely that she’s always smiling. Nerisza’s smiling reply was, “If you’re grumpy, the world will be grumpy with you. It’s much easier for me to be happy.”

Her choice to feel happy shapes her physical world in ways that knives, needles and chemicals cannot.

Yes, we need knives, needles, chemicals and other physical implements of this world but they’re not the only tools for shaping the world we see and experience. The choice to spread happiness with our smiles must be the cheapest, simplest and most effective tools we know.

Note: I really don’t know if my mind dropped my pulse rate to 37 and then up to 50, or if it just happened. It is, however, a coincidence that the four times they took my pulse when I was waking it was 37 – exactly 37 each time. Then, five minutes later, their shock and horror urged them to do it again, it was always up to 50 – exactly 50. We’ve all got to make our minds up on that one.

Building A Better God

The God I’ve built is not one with eyes, ears, judgement or kindness. This god is not even a He. Or a She. Or an It. This God is a process, a system.

It’s at this point you could become alarmed, upset, let down and/or generally disappointed. I was when I built this new God … and when I realised any alternative is little more than personifying that which is beyond human imagination or creativity; like giving clothes and a name to something like faith, hope or charity.

You see, I had this fond affection for a loving father watching, guiding and supporting my every move. My own father was both angry and distant and the God I built mirrored the father I wish I’d had – loving, accepting, communicating, guiding and always there. I felt safer in an unsafe world with this bigger Father watching my every move, looking out for me and clearing confusion whenever it enveloped me.

I’d heard of other gods – harsh ones, judgemental ones, dispassionate ones, fickle ones – and mine was better than any of them: accessible, able and artful. Never absent, avenging or arsehole.

Mine was special and he was mine … and he was definitely a He, echoing my need, I realised many years later, for a nicer substitute father. Someone in my corner.

So I plodded through life in the glow of God’s ever-present kindness, falling back on him whenever pain or indecision cut in. This God got me through many scrapes – suicide attempts, physical and emotional attacks, abandonment, guilt fear and loneliness. I have so much to thank him for and, even today, I can call him up when the munchies chew at my soul.

Then somewhere, sometime, something went click. A dawning at the speed of thought over the softening landscape of my life. I noticed that I’d built the god I wanted, the god that filled the biggest hole in my soul … and that we all do this.

Some people like being slapped round the chops so they build a vengeful, punishing god.

Some people like being cuddled and caressed so they build a gooey, sweet god.

Some people want – and therefore see – a complicated world and so build a complicated god … or a whole congregation of complicated gods.

In fact, our gods tell us nothing about God and everything about us – the perfect analyst’s tool!

So, having peeled back the worst of the layers of anger at my father – do we ever peel them all back? – I realised that, as Forrest Gump might say, God is as God does.

In other words, having become my best friend, I was in no need for a friend substitute. I was, however, in need of understanding about Life, the Universe and Everything. I wanted to know how it all worked. I was in mechanical mode – practical, objective and process-focussed.

So I built a Process God.

And, yes, there was grief. Sadness. Mourning. My old God was dead; a lifelong friend was gone. I missed him but knew he didn’t fit the new me that now walked this earth.

I hear you asking and the answer is, “Yes, I still miss my old God, like an old friend I’ve lost touch with and feel little connection with, now. When we meet up it’s nice but it’s neither deep nor enduring any more.

My new God now suits me perfectly – as do all our Gods. Faceless, emotionless, impersonal and unerringly reliable; the Rolls Royce of gods who never breaks down, never has a bad moment and purrs in constant comfort. He never smiles nor grimaces. He just does the job he’s assigned to do and is content to do my bidding … as I am to do his.

God Takes No Prisoners

God takes no prisoners for he has no prisons. We build our prisons and wonder where he left the key.

The key is choosing acceptance. Choosing gratitude. Choosing forgiveness. Choosing peace.

We have the key.

We are the key.

God, you see, has no keys and no secrets. Yes, you’ve probably heard about the Secret Keys to Life, the Five Sacred Steps, the Ninety Three Blessings, the Sacred Archana, the 74½ Half-truths and every other clever phrase. None of them are from God. Not one of them.

The only rule God has – and I heard it from the dude himself, over coffee yesterday – is: You Are Already There. Enjoy It!

We started out right where he wanted us – right where we wanted us – and all was bliss and better. We were in a state that no words can describe … peace, contentment, joy, caring, stress-free, happy, free, creative … and all those (and more) combined and multiplied a thousand-fold.

And there we could have stayed. But, eventually, we wanted more … no, we wanted different. All those with curly hair want it straight. All those with straight hair want it curly. The blue-eyeds wanted green eyes and the green-eyeds wanted blue. We thought we wanted better but we just wanted different.

There was, in fact, no better. We started in utopia, in paradise, in love and, from there, the only way out was down. So began the “fall”, the descent of man, wanting different and different and different and, sadly, getting less and less and less.

And now we complain about God creating wars, poverty, injustice and all the other lesser that we made! If he’d had his way he wouldn’t have let us go; a loving father who loves us enough to let us go and to learn our lessons in growing up.

He’s not the control freak we all aspire to be and so he watches us as we flounder in the swamp of our own misery, refusing to reach out for his saving hands, his loving arms, just a thought away.

The best way to escape from quick-sand is to stop thrashing about and lie back. But what do we do? Yes, we thrash about and wonder why we keep sinking. Afraid to ask for help. Afraid to admit we’re not the Master of the Universe. Afraid to give in, to give up, to the higher power we have within.

For God, you see, never left, though we imagine we left him. God remained right where he started – deep inside all of us. We need speak no words of request for God hears every thought, every prayer, every request, every fearful shudder and joyful smile. All of it.

What’s more, he acts on all of it. Yes, all of it. He doesn’t actually leap in and save us from the circling sharks but he provides the boat. Not being a control freak (have I already said that?) he provides the means to our own saving but he will not actually put us in the boat. It’s up to us to look up, to look around and, with grateful acceptance, to take hold of the life-line he throws.

It’s not a secret. It’s not a set of steps. It’s not fifteen incantations a day while we bang a bell, wear funky gear and do certain stuff in a particular building every week.

It’s just stopping. It’s just lying back and looking around. It’s being grateful for what is and taking the simple action he quietly speaks into our hearts, our dreams, our impulses.

The problem is that we want it to be complicated, arduous and something we must learn … and it’s not. Simples!

Yes, I have written God in here as a bloke. I’m sure he/she/it is none of those things and is more than just a noun, is a process but, heck, what do I know? I just know that I don’t know the nature of God, though I know how She works and how we can work with It. Well, I know how God works for me, anyway!

Parental Pain

My, how we siphon down our patents’ pain into our own lives! Distilling, condensing and concentrating it. We don’t take their real pain which was mingled with joy, peace, despair, success, failure, happy and sad. No, we just take the undiluted pain and claim it as our own.

You see, it’s my head, my bloody head. Sore as hell on the right-hand side. Like someone belted me with the side of an axe-head. The pain comes and goes and, sometimes, I realise I haven’t felt it for whole minutes at a time. Five minutes, even! Then it kicks in again.

I try to stand and need to do it slowly lest I lose my balance. It wakes me from sleep and, no matter which way I lie, it gets me. Bang! In the side of the head. Roll over. Bang! Again the axe-head. Roll back. Bang! Another thwump. I lie on my back with eyes closed, with them open and, unrepentant, it continues to thwump my scull.

And my parents?

My father had a brain tumour. It started with headaches. On the right-hand side. Then there was unsteadiness. Then he lost the ability to place his left foot accurately, which was dangerous on stairs. The tangled web of nerves and cancer threads made it difficult for the surgeons to isolate one nerve from another, bad tissue from good tissue. In the process, his thirteenth nerve was severed and that incapacitated his voice box, rendering him silent for nearly a year after the operation.

Because he couldn’t speak – could hardly move – after the operation, he could not communicate that he’d had no food or water for several days. We found him emaciated, dehydrated and, because of throat damage, unable to ingest anything. It took a lot of asking around the many people who said it wasn’t their fault or their job, to find someone who would listen or act. The intravenous fluid saw him as a desert flower after rain – his eyes opened, he could finally nod and gesture with one hand and he could, eventually, smile.

He was never quite the same dynamic, striding, strident, omnipresent man we had known before. He couldn’t answer the phone or the door without a voice and, with confidence gone, chose to hide at home like a shy boy clinging to his mother’s skirt.

Eighteen months later, Alzheimer’s claimed him. I wondered if he lost the will to live for he died a year or so later, an emaciated, paralysed parody of the man he was.

And that, my friend, is what my fearful mind is handing me on a platter, every time I feel a twinge. A hammer. A jolt. A pain. Every single time I Relive those dreadful hospital visits, the frustrating bargaining with doctors and nurses who would not look us in the eye, apologise or make amends. We could see him fading before our eyes and no one cared.

That is the scene, the feeling and the outcome that comes to me as I change sleeping positions, stand up, turn around and am reminded of the axe-head against my scull.

I cannot get those final years with my father out of my mind … which is right where the thumping pain is.

I want to leave this life striding off into the sunset, hale of mind and sprite of body, and just suddenly stop. A surprise to me and all. None of this lingering, creeping death – this slow decline into reliance on others; this creeping paralysis of limb and memory; this slobber I cannot wipe up for myself; this inability to dress, wash and toilet myself. That is the opposite of what I want but this bloody headache – now five days young – tells me it will be the slowly lingering dependence … and that I fear more than fear itself.

It’s like a sadly potent army marching across the swampland of a dismal ending. I’m David, facing Goliath without my sling. He will do with me what he will and I must meekly, compliantly allow myself to be achingly crushed to death beneath his uncaring boot; one nerve at a time, one sinew at a time, one muscle at a time, one memory at a time.

This bloody unmoving headache is a pain. No doubt about that. However, the greater pain is the spectre of squalid that it drags along with it the spectre of my father’s decline and the suffering I allow to be pulled along with it.

Of course there are those who will say I’m choosing the dismal, demented images. That I can change my mind. That I can focus on gratitude and life’s positivity. I know that’s possible for I can do it for moments at a time. Seconds. Even a minute, sometimes.

But then my father reappears in his helpless, wasting state and I strap that to my possible future.

I’m trying to change my mind about this. I really am. But, like my father’s end, I can feel no easing of the pain or the images.

So, here I am trying not to think it away but to write it away. I hope it helps. I really do.

If You Like Losing Control, You’re Living In The Right Era

Do you want more or less control over your life? You may not have a choice.

Do things happen in threes for you? They do for me … well, maybe I believe they do so they do. I’m not sure if I’m the created, the creator or the creation. I have no control and I don’t need to know. I just know what works for me and what appears before my jaundiced, opinionated, judgemental eyes.

So, today’s three things:

Firstly, Philip Nitschke is creating an open source design for a euthanasia machine. So, if you want to end your life you’ll just be able to download, for free, the plans, obtain a 3D printer and your job’s done – you can take charge of your demise without having a group of non-medical people (politicians) who don’t know you, deciding if you can end your life or not. Check the article at http://bit.ly/2CNWCUm.

 

Secondly, a Russian neuroscientist, Alexandra Elbakyan, has made 14,000 academic articles available, for free, via her website at http://sci-hub.io/. Previously, academic publishers had a stranglehold on academic publications and it seems they’ve been growing more and more greedy, charging more and more – so greedy that they’ve lost control of their lucrative industry. Check the article at http://bit.ly/2pg5J5v.

Thirdly, a report by Finnish education expert, Pasi Sahlberg, says that the Australian education system is failing because of too much control. In 2000 the OECD released its first Program for International Student Assessment (Pisa), which measured member countries on key education metrics such as literacy and numeracy. The strongest performer was not some global superpower but Finland, a country of about 5 million that doesn’t introduce its children to formal schooling until the age of seven, requires its highly autonomous teachers to have master’s degrees and almost entirely rejects standardised testing … less control creates better education. See the article at http://bit.ly/2m5Src9.

Of course there are moral arguments around euthanasia, copyright and education but I’ll leave the subjective for those with opinions, biases and prejudices.

From the objective point of view, these three are examples of control being taken from authorities and being passed on to the general public … and for free or, in education, for a huge drop in cost.

This is the age we’re living in – The Age of Decontrol. As explained in my book, The Lawless Way, the last 4,000 years have seen the authority over our lives and over our information shift from the ruler/sages (Wu, Moses, Solomon, Tutankhamen etc.), to priests to politicians to scientists and, now, to you and I. As priests, politicians and scientists cling ever more desperately to the crumbling cliff of their arrogance, the freedom of information and action is washing away at the sand beneath them.

The taxi industry is being decontrolled by Uber. The hospitality industry is being decontrolled by Air BNB. The monetary system is being decontrolled by Bitcoin. The fuel and car industries are being decontrolled by Tesla. The publishing industry is being decontrolled by print-on-demand printing. Edward Snowden, Julian Assange and others are decontrolling the information held by authorities.

China has tried to control Bitcoin but failed. The Byron Bay council (Australia) has tried to control Air BNB but is failing. The American administration is trying to control Edward Snowdon and Julian Assange but has failed. Queensland police tried to control Uber but failed.

The trend of those taking control from authorities is set to accelerate and to expand into every aspect of our lives. All attempts at controlling those who are breaking free will fail – that is the age we’re living in. There is no reversing back into the stable of control – the horse is free and isn’t going back. Not for another 2,000 years. Apparently, we chose this time to arrive so we’d better just sit back, enjoy the loosening of control and enjoy our growing freedom.

The End of Politics?

Some are worried about the political disruption and fragility today, a disruption and fragility that will continue till we no longer have a need of politicians. This is heartening, not worrisome, and, below, is a short excerpt from my book, The Lawless Way, which helps explain where we’re all headed …

From 2,000 B.C. to the birth Of Christ

This was the Age of Aries, represented by the ram, a domesticated, group (mob) conscious animal that looks to the earth all day long. Before this time, humans were mainly hunter/gatherers, constantly moving in small groups to where the food and shelter were most plentiful. When food ran out they moved on, simply taking and accepting what nature provided. Like the ram that’s limited by the fences of humans, these people were limited by that which others, or nature, provided.

In the Arian Age people (like the ram) began to gather together in larger numbers and they started to settle in one place, learning to cultivate the land, grow crops and to create more than nature provided. A homeland, a particular place, became more important as land to settle on and to identify with. Even Moses’ people, who wandered for many years, were looking for “their” land. As people settled in larger groups, they created more laws and customs that ensured the efficient and harmonious workings of the tribe. As tribal law and customs developed, so did the strength of the tribe. In time the tribe almost became more important than the individuals in it. Creativity was not owned by individuals but belonged to the tribe. Each person got their identity from the place they held within the tribe, whether it was the medicine woman, the arrow-maker, the shaman or the head person. An old arrow-maker would pick one of the young boys to learn his craft and so each person’s destiny was in the hands of the tribe, as a collective unit. Young people would be observed and it would be decided what their place was to be. They accepted their given “vocation” and they would keep it for life. And, like a swarm of bees where individual bees will sacrifice themselves for the survival of the swarm, individual people would sacrifice themselves for the survival of the tribe.

From the birth of Christ to now

This was the Age of Pisces and was represented by two fish, swimming in opposite directions. The polarity and separation inherent in the fish image dominated this period and it meant that people began to identify themselves, not in relation to their position in the group, but in relation to other individuals around them. Just as the fish can swim anywhere and have no boundaries, so the Piscean person knows no boundaries or limitations, except those perceived by the self. Poor and disadvantaged people have become powerful and wealthy, while others in similar circumstances have remained poor and disadvantaged. The feelings if limitlessness (for some people) have enabled some outstanding achievements for individuals and they have also enabled some incredibly depraved and damaging events to take place as well.

During this era individual effort and creativity was recognised, artists began signing their works and people began to write their diaries. People judged themselves and others by what they could amass in physical assets – land, camels, cars, houses, wives, dynasties, businesses and other worldly chattels. People began to make their own career choices and the needs of the individual, not the group, became paramount. As we became separate from our tribe, we became separate from God, from our Greater Knowing, from Nature and from our neighbour. Rather than look within for our answers, we looked to other passing fish; we bowed and acquiesced to the “greater” knowing of experts – doctors, lawyers, priests, scientists, television, consultants, advertisers, teachers and leaders. We travelled across the world and killed each other – not for the survival of our tribe but because we wanted a bigger and more powerful tribe than all the other tribes … and then … there is no “and then”. We simply wanted a bigger and more powerful tribe because we have wanted a bigger and more powerful tribe. It was an end in itself, just as we wanted a bigger and more powerful company, sports team, political party or other tribe. Just as some people collected stamps or teaspoons, some people collected power and this mania for collecting things was an end in itself. As we become separate from our God and our personal truth, we tried to fill that hole (that separateness) in our soul with assets and conquests. We have seen Nature and other people as the enemy and have tried to conquer that which we are not. We felt lonely and apart and we formed unhealthy alliances – gangs, Ku Klux Klan, lobby groups, political parties, marriages and friendships – to feel a connectedness. By using this fear and separation, our leaders have got us to leap over whatever cliff they told us to.

From now to 4,000 A.D.

This is the Age of Aquarius and it is represented by a human providing service, or the human providing sustenance for others. In this new age we are being drawn to find our identity by discovering our purpose and our place in the universal plan, so that we can best serve humanity. In order to find that special place, we are drawn to go inside to find out who we really are and, from that, we can see who we really are in the universal plan – if we don’t go within, we go without.

The Aquarian God is no longer separate from us – “it” is us. We are realising we are Gods, that we are all a part of that which we call God and as we realise the wholistic nature of the universe, we realise the true interconnectedness of all that is. We are now able to conceive of our true Godliness and the power we have as co-creators in our universe – the universe that we are a part of and the universe that we are, within and without. In fact, we are able to conceive of a non-physical God, a God that is simply an energy or, even more invisible, a process rather than a being in any physical form. As we realise our part in our own dramas and crises, we realise that we not only created them but we have the solutions within. The millions of people who consciously meditate give credence to the immense power to that which we have within – wisdom, power and knowing. As we find the God/Goddess within, we begin to realise that we don’t need teachers, gurus, politicians or other “experts” to give us our solutions – we are the guru, the rule-maker, the creator, the cause and the result. And, as more people go within (in a multitude of ways) to find their Godliness, their wisdom and power, so more people will simply step away from the many rules created by others. There is no need to put anyone else down or to “fight” the rules – we simply realise that they aren’t a part of our truth and we walk towards our own rules smiling knowingly.