There are times like these, in which I'm in a constant dream state.
It is as though I'm working in my sleep and sleeping in my days.
Its not what you think.
It isn't madness or vague daydreaming or a dullness.
It is a kind of aliveness, but not in the sense of the external world.
An aliveness of my internal world.
I've been physically unwell for around two weeks.
A cold or flu maybe.
But of course, like always, it has triggered the dormant infection that sits in my sinuses.
This time though its sunk in to my lungs and I'm coughing up stuff.
I'm not studying at the moment. Uni break.
So I'm taking the opportunity to watch movies.
I can't read at the moment.
I need a break from text.
The black ink piercing my eyes is too much.
The moving images, sound and journeys of movies are perfect remedies for this underworld phase.
I seem to go through it around the same time each year.
So now I know.
So I surrender.
No use fighting it.
There are tears at times, grieving, sadness, but its not self-pity.
There is some lightness and laughter. Some loneliness.
There is some stillness.
Listening to the hum of the fridge.
Opening the front door and watching my tree of life.
The tree which saves me. Every time.
I can open the door or even look out the window from my loungeroom, or sit on the little porch.
And I'm ok.
That tree. She's my anchor.
She holds it all.
All that I go through.
Its the kitchen that is the heaviest part of the house.
Its cold tiles.
No windows on its eastern wall.
That kitchen is sad because of its lack of windows.
It wishes it could be drenched by shafts of sunlight, warmed up.
It longs for the sun.
Knowing all the while, the sun rises on the other side of the brick wall.
This makes my kitchen sad.
The fridge is a bit rowdy. Takes over.
That kitchen wants to get rid of it.
Dig a hole and make a cool natural fridge from earth magic.
Not sure what kitchen is talking about except I reckon it knows.
Sometimes it wonders what's in the water.
Its NAIDOC week.
I watched a couple of deadly movies.
Messiah. That was funny.
Tourists in the desert.
David Gulpilil turns up.
I won't spoil it. You have to watch it.
Then I watched Putuparri and the Rainmakers.
Starring Tom Lawford and other Lawfords and folk of Fitzroy Crossing.
I remember them from when I worked at Fitty.
I was there in 2003. The film spanned from around 1992 to beyond 2007.
Tracing the land rights claim of Spider and his family.
I was sitting on the loo after watching it.
And the song came out.
That Aboriginal one that usually arrives when I'm in the shower every so often.
My feet stamp.
Its not my song.
Obviously. But it comes through me.
Thoughts atm are wishing I'd studied law 20 years ago.
The feelings in me are this deep sadness for what Aboriginal people have had stolen from them.
This film, in particular, marks this.
When they go home.
The way the land dries up or floods when they're not there to take care of it.
The land has had its caretakers stolen from it and its grieving too.
Like two lost lovers who rarely get to unite and ultimately never truly do.
My lungs have brought that feeling up in to the small area just below my neck.
My second throat chakra.
Where the heart wants to speak but is stopped.
It gets hoarse, dry and aggravated.
The anger, the violence, its all a result of rage and grief, from what has been done.
Nobody can ever judge an Aboriginal person for their violence towards themselves or each other.
Its not ok. But its not their fault.
This film shows how Tom Lawford finds purpose in keeping culture strong for his next generation.
What about us?
The ones who have lost ours eons ago?
Its still there. Always yearning.
Its that part of me that recognises that part in them.
We all have it.
We are all made of it.
Earth. The stars.
Its all the same.
Its just we've built a life which prevents us from truly experiencing the joy of it in our everyday lives.
That's the tragedy.
One day I'll work out a way to live more truly with that. Knowing.
Feet stamping in the red sand.
Singing and laughing.
Sitting and crying.
The moving picture isn't on a screen anymore but all around me in the form of people, stars, trees and the dance of life... the natural world.