Judging and comparing is a big part of our lives.
It is automatic. This day is better than that, this movie was better or worse that the last one we saw. This steak tastes fantastic compared to the last one. This car I’ve got is a dog. My last one was really great. The same goes for people. My teacher this year is horrible. I really liked the one I had last year. My girlfriend, well we are great friends, and get on really well, but the girl I went out with two years ago was really the one.
We do it all day and every day; judge, assess and compare. And that’s in our nature.
On one level, there is nothing wrong with that. The contrast, we often believe, is what makes us happy. We can size up our lives, be happy about the good times, because we can compare them to the bad ones. But here there is a flaw. This way is based on life going ‘up and down’, good times and bad times, assessed, fluctuating.

I wonder, really wonder,what it would be like if we were to spend less time judging and assessing the world we live in; what is right and wrong with it, comparing it to the past, and constantly sizing up now, against the past or the future, what it would be like.

I wonder what it would be like to revere life, revere people, revere nature, revere our being and experience each day. I wonder. In awe. With reverence.

You know too, in recent times the word awesome has become popular. We have a hunger, a thirst for life to be awesome. So what is it to be ‘in awe’ of something. It is to wonder, to revere, not to measure, to sink into the bottomless depths of love, connection, peace, and the moment.


Even the sound of the word invites contemplation, reflection, awe.

Say it. Speak it. Breathe it. It is a word that spoken can bring you close to the infinite, to reverence, to wonder, to peace.

Recession Chic

A table is a very basic piece of furniture. In many homes they are at the centre of activity.

We just got a new table in our kitchen and it has elicited so many comments from visitors. Interesting really, I thought a table was a fairly ordinary thing.

But people love this table. So why? It fits the room perfectly, and is just the right size for people to sit around for coffee, to talk, write, carry out the myriad of tasks that you do at a table. It has ‘leaves’ so it can be extended to become a longer table. It has four chairs; strong and comfortable. This table and chairs have transformed our kitchen.

The thing is this table cost just $100, second hand from a used furniture shop. The table looks to be mahogany, maybe 30+ years old. It and its chairs are ‘cool’ in a retro sort of a way.

I think if I had gone to the new furniture shop, I might have found a ‘retro’ 70s style table for $1000 plus.

It’s got me wondering about material things and how we are going to deal with the toughened economic times.

Perhaps we don’t have to throw out desire for material possessions, but we simply reframe them, and shift what we value.

We will all be redefining what we see as important, of quality and what is luxurious.

Are the best products always new?

Can a table with a visible ‘patina’ with a few nicks and sratches add far more value to our house than a flash new dining suite, or a large plasma TV? Is it a centre piece where we can make and share our own food, rather than dining out? Can we sit there and make stuff, rather than buy it, create a new community and a new take on our family?

There’s a new trend called Rough Luxury, that might just fit the bill, celebrating the worn, defining what yoou consider to be luxurious.

May be these toughened times and consumerism blow out might have us look a bit differently at what we truly need and truly value in the way of possessions. And you know, I think it might just lead to greater happiness

The Mire

Driving up north today I heard two news bulletins in a row that talked about the world economic crisis and our descent into the mire.
I couldn’t listen as it hit a depressive chord in me. But a few kilometres up the road, I started to think, what is a mire anyway.
It was a bit odd really. The sentence in the news used the term ‘the mire’ as if it it was something objective and scientific that we were all sinking into. The news is weird like that these days, one minute facts, figures and statements, the next some strangely juxtaposed word or phrase spoken as truth.
Descending into the mire.
Middle English, from Old Norse mȳrr; akin to Old English mōs marsh — more at moss
Date: 14th century
1 : wet spongy earth (as of a bog or marsh)
2 : heavy often deep mud or slush
3 : a troublesome or intractable situation
(source: Merriam Webster Dictionary Online)
So we’re in the muck, poo, sh**.
I might be at odds to most people, but I quite like a good swamp, bog or wetland.
They are full of life and opportunity. They are dangerous too, but thinking carefully, walking with care and though, observing what is around, they are great places full of stunning and beautiful plant and animal life.
In fact, many wetlands, bogs, swamps, mires are the source of life for our oceans, full of nutrients, stunning diversity, that feed us all.
And mire, comes from moss, a most useful form of plant life, from being the fuel for the smokey taste in single malt scotch whiskey to use as an ingredient for bread and also absorbant first aid dressings. Spaghnum Moss, sometimes called ‘the green gold ‘and used as a medium for growing in horticulture, can be worth a great deal of money (triple AAA grade upwards of $18 US a kilo).

So a descent into the mire could well be not a fall into muddy murky depths, but a tumble into a soft, beautiful life giving, economically rich place.