She felt she was being judged. She didn’t want to look at the woman across from her. Would her judge think her a fraud, or worse, incompetent and weak?
“What is a good day for you?” the disembodied voice across the desk asked.
How to answer that? Think, think, but the thoughts came too slowly. Silence filled the room. She felt so weary. A psychiatrist’s couch would have been welcome at this point.
Then, “A good day is when I don’t have to rest in the car for an hour before taking my groceries inside.”
As she left the office, she could feel the doctor’s eyes boring into her back. She wondered what her gait and posture said about her, but she no longer cared.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
International readers may not have heard that parts of eastern Australia have copped yet another drenching and houses and businesses have been flooded again less than a month after the last deluge. More lives have been lost. It seems we will soon be a country of environmental migrants (note: environmental refugee is not an officially recognised term). If we can’t adequately look after our own environmental “migrants”, then how on earth will we be able to offer reasonable assistance to the hundreds of millions of environmental refugees (let’s call it what it is) expected in the future under current climate warming projections?
It seems nothing is going to stop Aussie state and federal governments and their so-called independent planning agencies approving more new coal and gas projects.
I could be churlish and note that the former deputy PM in the current national government suggested that Pacific Islanders would survive climate change because they come to Australia to pick our fruit! It is no wonder some Pacific nations are making their own arrangements to secure their future.
Anyway, I couldn’t help wonder whether the Byron Bay BluesFest would be held this Easter given the flooding in that region. Apparently it is going ahead.
I read that some displaced people currently in emergency accommodation will need to move outside the Byron area temporarily due to the influx of tourists to the region over Easter. It never rains, it pours. What’s the forecast? Anyway, a certain video streaming service must have been reading my mind because it presented me with Australian artist, Xavier Rudd, who will be performing at BluesFest. Here is a short film made for his song, Stoney Creek. Let’s have a listen to it.
I hope the sun shines on the festival. It has been very difficult over the last couple of years for musicians and all the ancillary businesses that rely on the show going on for their livelihood.
It is a game until it isn’t. Let’s listen to Peter Gabriel’s Games Without Frontiers today.
I have been hearing a lot about the hypocrisy of individuals and national governments lately. I imagine that this is distressingly irrelevant to people who find themselves in the middle of a war zone through no fault of their own. Still, it would be nice if those who have engaged in tribal warfare and rhetoric could find it in themselves to put their weapons down for all our sake. That would be true leadership and worthwhile human endeavour.
There has been many a twist and turn, and a few curve balls thrown at us over the last few weeks.
My mother and step-father visited from up north, skirting the floods that have left thousands homeless on the east coast of Australia. It has been over two years since I had my hair cut. My mother plaited it for me. The plait was a bit wonky, so perfect for me.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. How about a poem first?
I have been rather quiet over the last few months living my ordinary life in extraordinary times. Ordinary does not mean dull or insignificant. Such is life in these days of extremes. I have spent an inordinate amount of time at my special place, ie. home. It might not be perfect, posh or pristine, but it has everything we need. Every window has a view of the garden and its inhabitants.
I have previously written about climate wars, culture wars, water wars and war wars, wars on rodents, waste, corruption, hunger and homelessness; the collapse of essential ecosystems; the persecution of climate activists, minorities and refugees; the jailing of protesters; and so on. I am not going to repeat myself here today. Instead, I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart, all those people who work tirelessly to keep us safe and who provide humanitarian aid in our darkest hours. They are the light that gives us hope.
Moving right along, it’s not a cat photo or video, but it is a reasonable substitute. I give you Ama and Makea. Enjoy.
Please, no more war writing and photography prompts, otherwise I will have to pull out the dead rat photo. If you have something to say on any of the topics above, say it anyway. It is always an important time to stand up for the issues that matter.
Mediate, not meditate, is my new favourite saying.
