Tag Archive: spiritual


Traveling daily on spinning wheels of freedom,
I pass so many faces in their steel boxes,
all with the same expression of spiritual deadness
…but making me feel all the more alive!
I smile inside… not at their loss,
but because I am not them.
My mind, coming from another place,
my soul’s energy buzzing, singing, responding to the beauty of life all around,
seeing and feeling Mother Nature,
in the form of rain and wind, sunlight and smells,
bearing witness to her wrapping herself around those steel boxes,
each of them a barricade to her,
each of them individually trapping a small part of the universe,
making it false,
holding it still, unchanging, stagnating,
changing nothing, creating nothing, feeding nothing,
and with no spirit being fed,
the spirit behind those faces lies dead.

It is a fallacy to believe that Human nature has changed as a result of civilisation.
Men are still men; Women are still women, and children are still children.
Many times have I heard ‘We’ve evolved beyond all that’ ,
yet many times I have read in the newspapers and seen on the news channels
despicable things done by one human to another… only to hear a person say
in disgust, hatred, and dismay at what they have witnessed ‘They’re like animals!

…and I think ‘Yeah… aren’t they just.’ …because that’s what we are.
We are another creature that walks the planet.
Regardless of all our gizmo’s that distance us further from our true nature with every passing year.
Underneath the façade painted on our exterior, still lies the animal within,
the primal creature that will fight dirty to feed and protect her children,
to gain that little advantage over another when the going gets really tough.

When the master painter paints a master piece, he starts with a blank canvas.
This is wetted and stretched around a frame, thus altering its original nature.
Now free from creases and warps, it is ready to be obscured by an alternative surface.
A surface that is carefully applied, layer upon layer until the final work reveals itself.
However, the original canvas is still there. It supports the layers of built up brush strokes.
But if it were removed from the frame, folded or rolled, the layers would start to crack,
the original surface would begin to show through, and it becomes apparent
that the painting only masks the original canvas… the original nature.

When born we are each a blank canvas.
During our early years, we are stretched and moulded to fit the human mould of our local culture.
Then civilisation, projected through our parents and peers begins to paint the brush strokes,
laying down layer upon layer of quiet indoctrination, each one supported by the last.
Finally, at some point during our teenage years, we become the person we will always be,
only to have the brush strokes of our chosen path reinforce the earlier layers,
the colours and directions becoming ever more regulated; ever more predictable.
In our final years, the layers are so deep that the canvas can no longer flex,
everything so stiff, so rigid… so inflexible,
that regardless of the original nature of our canvas, we are incapable of expressing it at all.

Surely, the greatest gift a person can give is to help guide young people towards searching for, finding,
and understanding their canvas… their original nature.
If still young enough, they can free themselves of the traditional path of their forefathers,
and that, they will witness, which is followed by most.
I, for one, cannot see a greater way of expressing oneself, than to express it through your original nature,
…but perhaps that’s simply a result of the shape of my canvas.