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hope

Climate Change Cartoon Pen & Watercolour 8″x12″

Copyright 2009 Jean Burman

“For those who believe… no proof is necessary

For those who don’t believe… no proof is possible”

- Eyes of the Beholder

So where does this leave us in the Climate Change Debate?

Precisely nowhere.

But that’s okay because… either way… I still have a couple of outstanding questions.

Things like:

1.  Why is the sea level rising in Kirribati and the Maldives but nowhere else?

2.  Why are we changing light globes from incandescent to [mercury containing] compact fluorescent globes when the environmental consequences of doing so have not been fully investigated… and there are no established guidelines for their safe handling and subsequent disposal?

3.  Why are we legislating that new roofs in the tropics must now be [a heat absorbing] dark brown or green (ironically to blend with nature) when sound common sense dictates that a lighter [white or silver] roof would not only keep the home cooler in summer but also reduce the amount of energy required to cool it?

4.  Why are we introducing an Emissions Trading Scheme which could potentially disadvantage many sectors of the economy without first establishing [without a doubt] that the carbon we are attempting to reduce is in fact the true culprit in climate change?

5.  And is climate change the real issue anyway?

There has been so much time-wasting debate that were it the real issue… it is now becoming all too late.  And if it is not the real issue… then there has been a heck of a lot of greenhouse gas expended in talking about it for no particularly good reason why! [Grin]

So would it not be wiser to address the broader issue of environment instead of climate change?

Would it not be smarter all round for us to focus on the indisputable evidence already to hand of the adverse impact that humankind is having on the planet overall?  If this were the case… the hystrionics of the whole climate change debate would cease to exist… and in it’s place would be calm rational bipartisan discussion about “what is good for us” [or not] and what we can reasonably do about it.

I do not know of a single person who would dispute the fact that humankind is having a hugely detrimental impact on the environment… the world at large… and the planet in general. Climate Change however may continue to be debated until the cows come home… [with way too much methane going down by then]

Cleaning up our act and changing our attitude toward the environment in which we live is within the realms of possibility for each and every individual on the planet. It can happen today.

Becoming environmentally aware is the responsibility of all those who draw breath from the scant six kilometres of oxygen in the atmosphere above our heads before there is… absolutely… precisely… nothing.  Just that one single thought should be enough to start people thinking about selling their Hummers and carpooling to work.

The big picture is a mighty one.  And there is nothing to suggest that it’s not a daunting task.

But it’s the only honest way to go.

Climate Change in and of itself is only one small factor in the greater global catastrophe which may befall the planet if we fail to make immediate changes to the way we live… do business… and co-exist with the natural world.

We must act now… as though our life depended on it.

Because it does.

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If  we should ever need to be reminded of how quickly time passes… look no further than a garden.  What a difference a day makes there!   One day a bud… the next… a flower.

 

 

It’s rapid.  And unforgiving.  Ants already encircle the delicate blooms.

So… without thought for the future or what might be… I resolve to simply enjoy the blossoms now.  Today.  As though tomorrow does not exist.  I breathe the scent that evokes the memories of childhood… passionfruit and jasmine… and of places real and imagined.   I close my eyes.  I am a child again.  Long ago and very far away… the fragrance of another time.   Scattered frangipani blossoms upon the grass… and deep reflections in the dark still water.  Tranquility.  I open my eyes to admire the flush of youth and innocent optimism in the plump freshness of the blooms.  So much hope and promise there!

 

And tomorrow… as the weight of morning dewdrop and gravity… and the passing of time weighs heavily on them… I will remember today.  Then happily move on.   And over the days to come… I will stop to appreciate the rich deep fragrance that only develops with age.   And the potential for joy that each moment of life can hold.

If only we might grasp it.

Youth is wasted on the young…(smiles)

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A Crisis of Faith

October 9, 2007 · 16 comments

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cartoon Copyright Jean Burman 2007

I was saddened this week by the sensationalised revelations of Mother Teresa’s longstanding crisis of faith. Don’t get me wrong… I was not saddened because she had experienced a crisis of faith… (and had long believed she had been abandoned by her God)… but saddened because the world got to know about it!

It is an unfortunate fact that people… being what they are… will now more than likely put whatever self serving spin on it they like and as is often the case… the truth may be the first and ultimate casualty.

One overlooked truth of course is… there are certain things that should remain sacrosanct between a human soul and her God… (which is how she had wanted it)… but this sentiment was apparently not shared by her church!

But now that the cat is out of the bag… the atheists and agnostics alike will no doubt take the opportunity to see her revelations as confirmation that God does not exist. The deeply religious will see it as proof that God does indeed exist… arguing “how else could this amazing woman “hold out” for so long in her good works… without losing her deep faith in a God she was (apparently) unable to reach?”

Perhaps the truth can be found somewhere in the middle. Or perhaps it can never be found at all… as the true intimacy of her tormented thoughts have passed on with her… (it would be hoped) into the “fulfillment” of eternal life.

Whilst I think it is contemptible that her confessions have been exposed against her wishes to the misinterpretation of the masses… I find it strangely intriguing that I am unable to resist the urge to examine some of the questions her confessions raised for me. (So as you will see… I am as guilty as the rest! LOL)

Whilst most of us haven’t (and more than possibly could not have) lived a life so totally devoted and dedicated to humanity as Mother Theresa’s was… I suspect that many of us may understand (even if only slightly) how she might have felt… and may even have experienced some small degree of parallel in our own dealings with God… (whomever we perceive the entity to be).

Bizarre as it may seem… I see a parallel here for artists too! And I guess… for every vocation where someone invests their heart into their work… this may well be the case. But in particular for the creative artist… the road is long… and the rewards can seem “thin on the ground”.

Not only are artists attempting to attract the attention of a fickle (sometimes) uninformed audience… but even if the audience does notice the work… rarely is it able to acknowledge the “artistic voice” in a language it can understand.

Monetary reward is one thing for the working artist… but always… always there is the deep intangible yearning for something more. It’s that something more that has sometimes driven artists throughout millenia to desperation and despair. Artists are often their own harshest critics… playing the game by a set of rules that others find difficult to interpret. The bar is high… and becoming ever higher… the vocal critics have the majority… and an apathetic voiceless (and dare I say it “artless”) audience can often appear to be sitting it out on the fence without an opinion (okay… a little harsh maybe! *wink* LOL)

Don’t get me wrong… I am not for a moment suggesting that the plight of the struggling artist can be compared to the selfless struggle that Mother Thesesa faced over a lifetime of saving the poor of Calcutta. On the contrary… I am simply observing the parallel in order to better understand her torment… and hopefully find some common ground for the rest of us.

I am wondering then… if Mother Theresa’s deep spiritual longing could have been… in essence… the unquenched thirst for (not only affirmation that she was on the right track)… but also… the ultimate recognition for a job well done? She certainly didn’t need this recognition (in her case… spiritual fulfillment) to carry on… but perhaps a positive spiritual endorsement from an “available” God could have made the journey far easier to bear.

But maybe that was not God’s intention. Maybe he trusted her more than anyone else to never give up… no matter how hard it got… and despite the perceived withdrawal of “spiritual” recognition and perhaps even because of it… she did even more good works!

Call me way too simplistic… but could it be that somewhere in this small parallel… there is a God-sent lesson for us all?

Just thinking… :-)

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It was a particularly sparkly July morning. The sleepy red sun had risen earlier over a languid blue sea… and by mid morning… I found myself standing knee deep in the cool, clear shallows of the lagoon which had formed along the beach. The lagoon had not been there long… perhaps only a few short weeks or months. I marvelled at the changes since my last visit.

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Botticelli Sea Garden – Copyright Jean Burman 2007

The beach changes frequently here… the sand shifting in response to the tide. With it’s incessant swirling and circling… the sea forms the sand into bars and creates pools along the beach where once there was none… and where all manner of marine creatures now exist. How they know when to come… and (more importantly) when to go… I have no idea… but I suppose there will always be those who are lost in the ever changing transition between the sea and the shore

As I stood knee deep in silent contemplation…scanning the horizon and breathing in the fresh beginnings of the day… I felt a rather strange sensation beneath my feet. I looked down… standing perfectly still so as not to disturb the water in order to see… and was all at once amazed and horrified at what I saw. Beneath my feet… and beyond… for as far as the eye could see… were millions and millions of tiny starfish! No bigger than the palm of a child’s hand… they lay scattered like precious jewels flung into the sea… stretching far and away across the sandy bottom.

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As I stood there unable to move a muscle… and fearing to take a step should I inadvertently step on one… I marvelled at the fact that I had not noticed them upon entering the pool… as their small, flat, half buried shapes lay silently on the sandy bottom in perfect camouflage with their surroundings.

What to do… should I go… or should I stay? Common sense finally dictated that I couldn’t stay there forever… so with great trepidation and by placing my feet with very great care… I picked my way out of the pool as carefully as I could. It occurred to me afterward that perhaps I needn’t have been quite so concerned as, on occasion, when my foot inadvertently encountered one buried deep in the sand… the starfish slipped effortlessly to safety from beneath the weight. Nature has it’s way.

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Back on the beach… the warm sand between my toes… I contemplated the miracle of what I had just seen. From this distance the lagoon pool was motionless… and gave no hint at the tiny miracles that lay beneath. From here… it appeared to be just another day in paradise… but for me… I knew there would never be another day like it.

The Starfish – [attributed to Loren Eisley]
Once upon a time there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to write. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began work. One day he was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach… he saw a man dancing on the sand. He smiled to himself to think someone would dance on the beach… so he began to walk faster to catch up. As he got closer… he saw that he was only a young man… and he wasn’t dancing. Instead… he was reaching down and picking something up… and gently throwing it into the ocean. As he got closer he called out “Good morning… what are you doing?”
The young man paused… looked up and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean…the sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don’t throw them in they’ll die.”
The old man then remarked “But young man don’t you realise that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it. You can’t possibly make a difference!” The young man listened politely… then bent down and picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea.

“It made a difference to that one” he said.

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