Backdrop for Learning

With the writing of my family background, it is no surprise to find that this was the backdrop for my life as a nomad, and adventurer. Neither is it a coincidence that my dad was a clergyman, and that I came from a religious background from which spirituality came to a head, once religion was seen for what it is. That was a means to an end for spirituality, and once seen, was allowed to drop away, and acknowledged for the role it played as a foundational tool along the way. I made the decision to not replace one religion with another, even though I did appreciate the community in which I was raised. That too, was allowed to go, and it has only been of late in Nimbin, where I have found a community that is tolerant no matter how bad the abuse that is clearly seen by all. I see this place as an interesting microcosm where "love" is played out, and more often than not, is only found after working through 'using and abusing' for not knowing any better way to proceed.

Although on one level, there is no time, for our bodies, there is a point in the "moment" where the dream is still being dreamt out. As we are in the midst of the Beginning of the New Dreamtime, it is not assumed that there is a particular outcome. I do look and ponder at the Universals which sometimes appear to be generalisations to those wishing to pick fault with my line of thinking, yet to me, that is semantics due to our different understandings of different wording strung together. That perhaps is no different than two people choosing to take a debating position around anything said, so that slow progress is indeed the outcome. I do not choose to allow such frustration of not being able to communicate my ideas well enough for another to pick fault with, to slow down the conclusions I reach each and every day. I do get some comments I may not agree with, but allow them to stand, due to the fact that each person is allowed their say. Such is the nature of reality, and for some people, I may appear as a devil, and to others a guru. Each is allowed their own picture, and is dependant on their own perspective. This also allows me to be tolerant of others views, even if opposing my own.

From the interaction of life on my own, and understanding how things have worked for me, I am able to piece together from the peace where I balance out from inside; then the result is the fountain from which my own wisdom rises. I also take advisement as to my repetitive wording in my blogs, and wish to state to any readers, that I get to know myself better by thinking out loud, which is how the blogs run. They are my thoughts, and though my might put them sometimes in the wrong context that is misunderstood, and should perhaps talk more from my own perspective, rather than saying "You" or making the context more personal, I allow the reader to separate out those things that they might find useful for themselves, and those things that issue is taken. I cannot make friends with everyone, and I struggle with concepts often. I am no-one's guru but my own, and follow no other person or thought. If in the process I am able to think outside of the box enough to challenge the reader as to his/her own thinking, then I have succeeded in evoking a shift in consciousness.

This whole series has been a learning and a homework over many years of travel and thought. I have enjoyed the process and journey, and leave what little I am able to write behind as a legacy. To finish off about my culture to which I owe my background, I have the following observation to add. There are many cultures around the world that honour their ancestors when doing sacred rites. These cultures "know" that they are still present in their consciousness, even if long ago they have left this plane of existence. And so it will be with these writings, for I will not be here for long, as life is so short. It is up to me to make my mark now, and in pure consciousness, when revisiting the seeds of what I have sown in this life, be able to revisit and "look" in via a variety of perspectives, at the result of the writings that I leave on behalf of my own family where they have not been able to write on behalf of the others. (Thanks dad, for your legacy to me, for example!)

And so it is with all of us, and all the more reason for us to pause and reflect as to what it is we choose to leave behind that will positively make a difference in the world both now, and in the future, and in retrospect. If love, it will build and grow, and if just a pleasant romp in the park, then perhaps it will be no more than a bug living his life over a few days. It really is up to us, and nothing should worry us at all about any level of control other than our own. So make love your path to wander and sow, and wild flowers of joy will grow and blossom as a result...........enjoy your life, and have fun!

~Spiritwind~

(Second part)

My parents after the war, emmigrated back to Australia. My mother was the first chinese war bride to be allowed into Australia when they settled in Adelaide, South Australia. My eldest brother was born there (Clement Theodore), and at that time, dad made the decision to quit opera singing, and become a minister of religion. He let go of his Church of England beliefs to become a Seventh Day Adventist, and from that day on, the house became vegetarian. Travelling to Cooranbong, in the Central Coast of NSW, where the church had their university and factory to make the famous Australian Weetbix, my father attended theological college. It was during this time that I was born (Benjamin Laurence) in Kurri Kurri, the closest hospital to the school. I have written about this place earlier in this blog.

Before my dad was able to complete his studies, they decided to put him to work as a singing evangelist throughout the churches reaches in the south seas. The first moves took us into south west NSW into the Riverina area, where we began to travel to all of the small towns through the early 1950s. My younger brother was born in Wagga Wagga (Warner Owen) after moving into the region. It seemed like a constant moving experience, for as long as I can remember due to my dad being a human singing canary that people simply could not get enough of. So began a life that has had me live in hundreds of places in three countries, with stories that could be told from them all. Experience and adventure was the name of the game to me as a child. By the time I was beginning to climb up in primary school, we moved to Sydney, where I began music (keyboard) training with Trinity College of Music in England, and Royal School of Music. By the age of 12, I had begun to accompany my father in his singing, and became his main accompanist for a decade beyond this.

By age 17, I had left home, though went back one more year before turning twenty, after living in New Zealand for several years, where all of the high school was done. During our teen years, my parents went through the floods downstream of Warragamba Dam when they had to release the water, back in the early 60s, where we found ourselves in a civil defense position. They continued with their interest in this field in NZ, and when they emmigrated to Canada, worked to clothe 20,000 people from 50 nationalities around the world, single-handedly. They worked tirelessly from 7 in the morning till late at night, for years, and had hundreds of children who called them "mum and dad" due to their having been separated from their own parents sent to other destinations. At this time, United Nations sent in a film crew to film the operation, and the Premier of the Province wrote a letter saying that it was a model for work between church and state.

A true superstar, my dad retired in Vancouver, BC, in Canada; until his death on Feb 28th, 2002. Mum continues to live in the Lower Mainland of BC, and presently lives in an old folks home there.

~Spiritwind~

William Percy Cook

Was born on January 21st 1921, in Aldershot, England. He came from the Baldwin family of Ireland, though he told me that we have german and celtic roots. He had a twin sister who died at birth, and dad was so small when born, that he had to be wrapped in cotton wool. He survived, and was one of the last children of a big family. They emmigrated out to Adelaide in Australia, when he was only four years old, where he grew up by the seaside of Semiphore through the great depression years. Life was not easy for dad through that time, and he rarely talked about it without some painful look on his face about its severity. He simply did not wish to talk about it. So nothing about dad's childhood I know about, other than he had to have tin on the bottom of his shoes, and had to sit and eat even the fat of the meat at the table.

Dad was born with an exceptional singing voice, and won most competitions he ever entered in the city of Adelaide till they actually banned him from going into further competitions due to his winning them all. Even identifying classical music on the ABC from just a few bars being played, he could do better than anyone else. Where he gained such knowledge of classical music, had to have been learnt in his childhood, for he certainly knew most anything played by the ABC as I grew up, whether heavy or light classical.

The trade that dad learned, was to be a fitter and turner, and all his life long, he enjoyed tinkering with things, just to fix them, or find a way to make it work. I am sure from the work he did as a young man, that he damaged his eyesight, so that he always had glasses from that point on, that were like magnifying glasses, so hard were they to see through!

When dad was old enough, he applied for a job to work on a carrier ship to work his way back to England, the place of his birth. When he arrived, he had precious little with him, but dad learnt to be a survivor in those days, with the help of having lived through the depression of the thirties.

Voice training took place in England beyond that which he had in Adelaide, and when the war broke out, dad joined the RAF in England, but was stationed in South America as a radio operator. He knew his morse code well, and never forgot the dit-dit-dahs for the rest of his days. During this time, dad did the opera circuit of South America, and gained letters of introduction to the top music conductors of his day, namely, Toscanini, and Toruso. Enrico Caruso's personal physician presented dad in South America, with Caruso's personal Sword, so impressed with dad's singing he was. He also had Winnifred Atwell accompany him when he was in Trinidad, though told me she could not do handle classical music, and true to form, she turned to her famous honky tonk playing that she was known for.

In Trindad, dad met mum, who was eighteen at the time, and not interested in him. So dad dated her sister, so that she became jealous, and got in the back door that way. From what I know, he was engaged to an English girl, to be married; but when dad gained mum as his girlfriend, he dropped his engagement, and married mum in Trinidad. My mother is 100% chinese, though my ancestors left China in the boxer revolution, so no culture was left by the time my mother was born.

(End of first part)
~Spiritwind~