Life skills

Yesterday I was talking to a young man who was a particularly articulate, passionate, and convincing orator. His passion was helping society break the relentless and seemingly endless cycle of violence. He was passionate about delivering courses designed to help people see there are other choices to resolve differences rather than resorting to violence. He wants to bring these courses to schools across the country so young people can gain useful life skills that would help them make better decisions in life. The effects of this strategy, he believes, will be to reduce the deep scar on society that is caused through violent crime, and to help people proactively choose to live a more peaceful and fulfilling life. This young man has no qualifications. He has no university degree and yet his insights into life and the possibility he sees for society are as exciting as they are profound. And what gives his message even greater weight is the fact that he has spent all of his adult life in jail for a terrible crime. His passion for making a positive contribution to society as a way of making amends is inspirational and I only hope that our law makers and legislators will listen to his message rather than seeing him as a criminal.

Guns aren't welcome on school buses

That sure is a scary heading. In 2007, just after 30 odd people were shot by a crazy gunman in the US, it seems almost foolish to write a story that takes a light-hearted look at the day I tried to take a gun to school. But that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Back in the early 1970s, Jerdacuttup Primary School was a tiny two roomed transportable building with a flat tin roof and a rain water tank for drinking water that was the grave for the odd dead lizard. The rooms were square and each had jarrah floors that made the sound of slamming desk lids seem that much louder. During the winter we were cold and during summer we melted in the far from well-designed shelters. But that was life at Jerdy primary. Thirty odd kids - and yes some of us were odd - especially yours truly.

It was in grade four or five that we were given a project by our then headmaster Mr Jones. He was a thick-set, red-headed, short-strutting, tough-nut footballer who loved nothing better than to dish out shirt fronts on a footy field, and, whilst I didn't rate him highly as a teacher, I admired the way he went about his work in a game of football. One to be feared that Mr Jones! So when we were told we were to do a project about anything in social studies a few of us boys got together and began to nut out what to do. We all lived on farms so we were never going to read about Shakespeare. No, we wanted a boys project. And being that we'd all used guns on the farm, we thought they would make the perfect project. After all, there were plenty of what we considered pests at the time, eating our parents crops and pastures, or wreaking havoc on new born lambs. Guns it had to be!

At the time, our tiny library contained a single set of encyclopedia which we thought would be our best resource. We grabbed one of the thick, heavy books off the shelf and went to work trying to find out a little more about guns and rifles. Being that we didn't have a photocopier we thought it would look pretty impressive to trace an image of an old rifle to add a picture to our project. So that's what we did. Using a piece of tracing paper and a lead pencil, we fashioned an image of what for us was the ultimate farming tool. But when we looked at this puny facsimile of that which captured our imagination we were left flat. We were devastated to see that our art had so utterly failed to embody the essence of what our project was all about. What a let down! Then the brain wave hit me. If we're doing a project on guns, why not bring one to school!? That would be the ultimate way of showing the other kids what a firearm was and how it operated. What a great idea! I explained to the other boys that we owned an air-rifle with a sawn off barrel. It still worked, I enthused. I claimed that it would be perfectly OK to bring to school being that it was only an air rifle, and besides, we only ever used wheat or oats as ammunition. It was perfect. And without a voice of dissent - and thinking it probably best not to ask Mr Jones - the plan was in place. So the next morning, there I was at the bus stop on that lonely stretch of gravel road, school bag in one hand and air rifle in the other. I was going to do well in show and tell today.

When the bus finally arrived, I could hardly wait to get on. The bus driver though, didn't share my enthusiasm. Mr Dow calmly advised me that it would probably be best to leave the gun behind, and suggested that I hide it in the bush under the letter box - which I did. It didn't occur to me, when we finally arrived at school, why Mr Dow and Mr Jones were in such a long, concerted conversation after dropping us kids off. But then again, I've never been the quickest thinker.

I never did try to take a gun to school again. I took lassos and whips, but never a gun. And as I look back on those days I remember them being innocent, and full of fun and adventure. If someone tried to take a gun to school today it would probably be with anger and ill-intent. There'd be police and psychologists, court and a government inquiry, and someone would probably end up in jail. But back in 1973, at Jerdy primary, it was just shrugged off, and life went on as usual. It was a way of life that was practical and uncomplicated, where everyone looked out for each other and shared a genuine, earthy sense of humour. It was a way of life that today is only ever captured in fictional stories of the outback. A way of life I'm proud to say I lived.

Mum wants a story

Mum called today. She wants me to write a story about my life as a young kid growing up on our farm at Jerdacuttup, which is a tiny farming community in the South East of Western Australia. Apparently one of the ladies down at Jerdy is putting a book together about life in a pioneer rural community and needs some help with some of the stories from people who lived in the area when it was just bush and old tractors. So why not? Over the next few days I'll share a few of these stories.

I choose to give freely of my time

Today was a day of reflection. Reflection on my motivations. Reflections on what's important. Reflections on the affects of my needs and wants. I'd been feeling unappreciated with the work I do on a volounteer basis in my wife's business, and therefore took myself and our dog to the park for a little wander and silent contemplation. As I sat and listened to the sounds of the birds and the passing cars, I realised that the reason I was doing volounteer work were my reasons, and mine alone. Yes, it's nice to be appreciated but I didn't volounteer for the accolades. I volounteer to help someone who has supported me over many years. I volounteer as a small way of saying thanks for all the years my wife has been patient with me. I volounteer as a way of expressing my appreciation and supporting her growth. To expect an instant return on this investment of time is to treat the natural order of life as a business. It's a way of showing doubt in the law of cause and effect, and a way of desiring to reap before one sows.

So I choose to give freely, joyfully, and selflessly of my time, without expectation of return. I will observe the affects of my actions and have faith that all will work out perfectly.

Being strong and letting go

The landlord at our business is making demands that I believe are unreasonable. Whilst they may be technically correct - possibly - it still doesn't make what they are asking for fair. So at what point do we stop fighting for what is fair and concede to their requests in order to achieve peace? This has always been a delicate balancing act for me. How far do I go to protect my own interests and where do I concede in order to move on?

The answer probably lies in what is a win for both of us. As a corporation, the landlord probably has little in the way of social conscience and a sense of what's fair and reasonable. So it's important for me to have an understanding of what's a win for us and to be clear on that. I sense that it's a moral victory that I'm trying to achieve - a kind of "I won't let the school bully order me around." If this is the case then it's probably better to look at the bigger picture. What are the downsides to a victory of this kind? What other ways could this conflict be imagined?

This is one of those nights I'll go to bed with a little uncertainty, but over the next day or so things will become clearer.

Compassion for prisoners

In my spare time I volounteer for a small charitable organisation which provides support to long term male prisoners in their efforts to rehabilitate into society. Many of these men have spent most, and in some cases all, of their adult life in prison; so the prospect for them of being released back into society is harrowing. In some cases they have never used an ATM, never surfed the Internet, and never connected utilities in their own name. If not supported, many would find their way back to prison, at the expense of another innocent victim, and at the expense of the chance they may have of one day sharing at least a slightly "normal" future.

I see my role as being a listener, a role model, and someone who they can relate to as being non-judgemental and accepting of their fundamental humanity. I believe that, inside every human being, beats the pure heart of someone who wants the best for themselves and their family and friends. By closing our hearts to people who have committed serious crimes we rob them of the possibility of being someone better, of being someone who can contribute and love. And in so doing we increase the likelihood of them re-offending, thus deepening the scar on society, themselves, and their victims.

At times, it's difficult to look with genuine compassion into the eyes of someone who has murdered, raped, or molested. It's a struggle to move beyond the automatic response of judgement. But if I can do this and it helps just one of these men change and begin making a positive contribution to society and living a life of possibility and responsibility, I will feel well satisfied.

Fear

Someone close to me just sent me an email that was short and abrupt and badly thought out. Although I'm confident that the email wasn't intended to cause offense, it was obviously written while this person was upset and aggravated about something over which they had no control. It's often when we are confused, fearful, or angry that we behave in ways that are out of character.

The lesson for me is to never send an email in anger. Doing so rarely works out for the good. Sure, write it, type it, then save it and come back to it a day or two later. Let at least one night's sleep pass before pressing the send button. At least by then the heart rate has dropped, most of the symptoms of anger have faded, and what is sent is a reflection of our true values and some thoughtful consideration.

I for one will be leaving this email alone for a day or two, and then I might have a coffee with my friend to work out what's really at issue. Two angry people don't make for a calm world.

Creating a blog that works

I've now managed to set up my Google Ad Sense account. Any day now there'll be a big fat cheque arrive in the mail from all the advertising revenue this blog's earned. No? Isn't that how it works? God, I must have been mislead. Never mind, it's set up and that's a small step taken toward finding out more about how blogs can be put to good affect.

Here's a few things I have on my To Do list for the blog, most of which I haven't done before.

• Post a vlog on my blog
• Build my website
  
• Have my blog feed to my website
• Increase the number of places my blog can be found
• Add some pics

There's a few and I know there's heaps more. I've found some excellent ideas at problogger which I'm working through for some more tips.

Part of my reason for working on this blog is to find out how I can utilise blogs in my wife's business. Rita owns an interest in a small group of new age giftware stores and wants help in setting up a web site. I want to create something that's way more than a corporate brochure - a place where people can experience something really unique and exciting and immersive.

I'm excited

I'm a bit like Big Kev at the moment - excited. There's so much to know about blogs and website, RSS feeds and Ad Sense that it could do a guys head in. So I'm just going to dive in head first and see what happens.

I've decided to make blogger my home for the time being. Ideally I'll have all this stuff on my own site but for the moment this is the most cost effective option. My next project is to get Ad Sense up and running so I can start earning a bit of coin. And being that I haven't had a paid job since January, that's not a bad thing!

Is it human nature to be prejudiced?

I confess. I'm a non-practicing real estate agent. But, just because I know longer work in the industry, doesn't mean that I'm not sensitive to comments about agents and their ethics. After all, I have lots of friends who are agents, and I've invested most of my adult in the industry.

Sitting in a coffee lounge this afternoon, I overheard two gentlemen discussing real estate. There were bits and pieces of the conversation entering and leaving my awareness, but the bit that caught my attention most went something like; "oh, he's a real estate agent. You'd expect him to..." It got me thinking about the way humans tend to categorise others and the way this leads to prejudice. After all, it's easy to attribute traits to another person on the basis of the colour of their skin, where they're from, their religious beliefs, or their sexual preferences. It takes little thought and conveniently explains behaviour that would otherwise take effort to understand.

The problem with thinking that categorises is that, if it can be proven that just one person out of a population does not share the expected traits, then it cannot be concluded that all will display the trait. Why is this important? It means that each person is a unique human being, independent of their inherited body or chosen religious beliefs. We can each make individual choices about our actions, our behaviour, our attitude, and our future free from the influence of our past. In that regard, we are all equal and deserve to be treated fairly, impartially, and respectfully, without being burdened by the poisonous filter of prejudice.

If we can look beyond the physical, we will see that we are all Jews and all Muslims. We are all Christians and all pagans. We are all black and all white. All Asian and all Hispanic. In each is all and in all each. By looking at one another as though we're looking at ourselves we break down the need for anger and violence, fighting and wars knowing that we hurt ourselves while hurting another.

Let's try letting go of prejudice.

Climate change and common sense

There was an interesting article in yesterday's daily paper, the West Australian. Now the West, admittedly, is known for its right wing stance on pretty much everything. It's pro-big business, pro-development, pro-conservative government, and any time it has a chance to belt a lefty, lesbo, homo, greeny or libertarian around the ears, that's exactly what it does. I'm all for freedom of speech; don't get me wrong, but yesterday's story was a classic. There's plenty of evidence to support that our climate is changing - for the worse - as a result of green-house gas emissions. From Al Gore to our local CSIRO, Australia's peak scientific organisation, there's plenty of warnings of the consequences if we fail to change our habits when it comes to consumption - particularly of energy derived from fossil fuels.

Despite all this evidence, it came as no surprise to see Paul Murray of the West, under the cloak of investigative journalism, produce 'evidence' suggesting that the changes we're seeing are as a result of nothing more than cyclical changes to weather patterns that have been taking place since time began. And the 'evidence' Paul trotted out? None other than a prominent geologist who just happens to be on the payroll of one of the peak mining bodies here in Australia. Like he's going to shit in his own nest by suggesting anything alarming!

So I wonder, if Paul's so keen about evidence, if he's ever taken a trip through Europe with his eyes open. He may have observed all the smog. Cloudless skies where the horizon is constantly brown. I wonder, Paul, was that smog around a couple of hundred years ago? And has he ever wondered where the clear blue skies have gone? I remember as a kid on the farm, looking to the sky and marvelling how clear it was, how you could just see through this blueness forever. But that's probably not scientific enough for Paul, nor for his big-business, big-industry cronies. My hope is that passion will win over thought, that common-sense will prevail over theory, and that the welfare of the planet will be put before commercial interest.