Messages

Be who you are,

You can be nothing else but who you are,

But also,

Be ALL of who you are,

For who you are,

Completely,

Is awe-inspiring and magnificent.

Fear can no longer be accepted,

As reason to fall short,

Of exploring and experiencing,

Your complete being.

Be remarkable,

Be spectacular,

Be you,

In your formidable entirety.

15 October 2002

This indeed was a message. It came to me in that twilight descent from conciousness into sleep. I found it so moving, it woke me and I wrote it straight down.

Exit Next Left

Exit next left

27 December 2001

On Christmas day we drove along the Western Highway to my Brother’s place out of town. The freeway is a well-worn path for me, having travelled on it for many years with work.

As the freeway leaves the city, it climbs into higher country, through a spur of the Great Dividing Range known as the Pentland Hills. During spring, the hills are verdant and alive. In summer at sunset they take a spectacular golden glow against sombre thunderclouds. The hills are cleared as farmland, but are very steep and littered with gorges, valleys and crannies. They seem to lead into scrub which becomes heavy forest and low mountains in the distance. They are windy, wild, stunning – and enticing.

Every time I speed down the freeway, I spot the Pentland Hills Road exit. The road is tiny and meanders as if carved unwillingly from the hills. From there it quickly disappears to parts unseen. For many years, I’ve felt the itchy desire to “just once” take that turnoff and explore its path. I imagine small hamlets, one-pub towns, farms clinging to windy, unforgiving cliffs. I see the possibility of a pristine jewel of a creek feeding a small waterfall and spilling into a hidden pond. Perhaps a special winery, restaurant or Bed and Breakfast hides away from the thousands of cars roaring down the path most travelled. Other times I see it as a lonely path struggling through the hills, leading to nothing of consequence but withering to “Brown’s Lane” and other farm tracks. Undaunted, I would not be disappointed in that. Just taking the turnoff as a flight of fancy would be enough.

Sad to say, Christmas day, like every other, I flew by that exit again. Each time I pass I promise myself; “One day I will…” A little voice whispers “Pierre, you are middle aged. You’ve looked at that road for the better part of 20 years. Follow your instincts and take the turnoff!”

Another voice interrupts with reasonable rationality; “You ARE a middle-aged man with commitments; you can’t just drop everything and go. What would happen if every time you had a whim, you took it?”

What would happen, indeed?

Back home it is easy to get busy and forget until next I head down that highway.  It would be a mistake to believe this whim is not important enough to me. On my death bed, the Pentland Hills Road exit and the lost opportunity to find what lies beyond may be my one regret

Is it true life gets too busy to be curious? It was not always so. While on shift work years ago, at the end of a bitter winter, I felt the lure of a whim and headed to the Dandenong ranges for the day. At the foothills, a sign to Ferntree Gully National Park branched off the main road. I wondered why I had never seen it before and turned in. It was a weekday and the car park was deserted. Armed with a warm jacket and the camera, my constant companion, I trudged the benign walking tracks in sweet solitude. I found hidden brooks fed by snow-melt, early spring flowers in fern groves shielded from the main road only metres away. My ‘discovery’ was crowned by a magnificent old gum tree standing proudly in a clearing. At its extremity, it touched the tips of trees that leaned towards it in awe. Its scale, silence and scent of eucalyptus stunned me into stillness. My photo did not do the scene justice, but it stands framed today as a reminder of the joy in giving into a whim.

I didn’t matter that this little forest stands on the edge of suburbia. I paved my own journey and that was enough. It will live with me forever. 

Of course I won’t mention the times I followed my nose and ended up bogged in a flooded creek out the back of Werribee, covered in mud and thumbing a lift home. Whims can surprise in more ways than one, such is their attraction. I did something I thought I would never do. If the outcome didn’t turn out quite so wonderful, a good story lives forever.

It annoys me when some prat at a party or dinner demolishes these memories with; “Oh yes, that bit of scrub, we go there every year, get drunk and pee on that tree.” Or, “I know old Leakes road. Council sealed it and diverted the creek bed through a pipe last May.” Some folk have no romance for discovery.

I am famous in my family for unplanned wanderlust - it is the source of many laughing memories and groans. It has been too long between discoveries. Something is calling the man that takes those turnoffs once in a while. I suspect the Pentland Hills Road exit is waiting patiently for him.

Now to find those few hours.

If I Could Write an Election Speech

If I Could Write an Election Speech

Wrote this several years ago. Not so sure much has changed ...

We’re facing another round of cynical politicking for the mindshare and votes of “the people.” We’re about to face another bout of TV advertising dollars and baronial editorials intended to either inspire more uncertainty or decide we are tired and install the alternative. I’m feeling decidedly “managed” and the pace has not yet hotted up.

How lucky are we to be blessed with living in a country that maintains a lifestyle based on what it digs from the ground? How equalIy fleeting and fragile is that one-off wealth? We are living on a resource funded bonanza, and the time is near when we must start paying our own way with sustainable new industry

I don’t like the thought of what that means to my lifestyle and to my Children’s future.

What I do know is that we work longer hours every year, working for companies that are increasingly foreign owned, demanding and generating ever larger profits and sending that money overseas through tax avoidance havens

Our family, social and community life has diminished significantly as the hours we put into paying the mortgage, the credit card, the school and medical fees, and the cost of living take their toll.

I have a nicer TV but I’m too tired to watch it.

We work harder than ever just to stand still, doing so at the expense of health and relationships with the people important to us. I don’t see my youngest son nearly as much as I did my older children and I’m too tired to enjoy the time we do have.

We cannot recruit the experienced people we need, because we dont invest in high value education, instead shipping jobs overseas. We have not developed high value skills in sufficient numbers to replace our ageing workforce. We are all working like madmen just to keep the shareholder returns high. The company i work for has people falling sick. Most of my colleagues have been too busy to undertake training for the past five years. We repeat mistakes we made ten years ago because our experienced staff moved on and their replacements have not gained their experience.

I feel I am letting my family down, my community, my colleagues but working harder doesn’t seem to fix the problem. I need help to understand why it seems neither I, the company I work for and my Country is not managing very well with all this money we have at the moment.

It seems we have been standing still at the crossroads as a country for too many years, too scared to move lest we upset the power balance in an older style economy. I see our best and brightest organisations and people being owned by foreign investment when we are one of the wealthiest countries on the planet. I see us squandering our future and based on short term incentive plan objectives. I don’t want my childrens’ options to be working in a low skilled consumer based society serving other’s interests.

I want visionary leadership. I want us to invest the once only billions of resources dollars into turning the tables around. Why not create future industries where the world beats a path to our door? I want our profits to create even more and sustained Australian income. I want to invest in making our children and grandchildren the smartest, happiest, most sustainable generations yet. I want Australian businesses to  invest and own global businesses that bring income here. I

 want our business leaders and managers to be the subject of success books based on their willingness to take managed risk and think longer term than a quarterly profit and loss sheet.

I understand enough about global economies to know there are many forces at work and they need to be bilateral. I don’t think we are in that position. I think we are being pillaged and asked to enjoy it as we close our eyes and become distracted by our dramas.

Why are we so scared we may upset other countries and companies in growing up and asserting ourselves? We have such an incredible opportunity if we are prepared to be smart and savvy.

I don’t want to feel I am on a treadmill, running harder just to stay in the same spot. I want to enjoy weekends with family and friends without having to work. I want to see that my children are proud to be part of an incredibly fortunate society and feel they are making a difference for their future.

I want to start creating an upward spiral where Australia is an awesomely powerful quiet achiever.

Don’t give me tax cuts so I can go and spend more money on consumables made and owned overseas; Rather, invest it in the means to own those overseas businesses. Invest it in building the next generation of industry where we can create and leverage our own market advantage. Others are doing it and they have no iron ore, nor uranium – and they are buying Australian icons. I would rather we were buying or building the next generation of Google, YouTube and IBM. 

Life Learnings

Trusting the Answer inside

 

True knowledge and “The Answer” is already inside us. Learn to still your mind. Learn to observe. Listen for the message.

Achieving one’s destiny

We don’t need to “do” anything to achieve our destiny; we have to allow it to be manifest – and all that that means. We must drop fear and live as though we have already achieved our desire. It means every moment, every thought, choice and action we make supports our destiny. Don't confuse this with doing nothing. It can be a tough path to walk at times. 

Freedom and Fear

Fear, shame, desire and regret are the cause of all life’s pain. When we are fearless, shameless, carry no guilt, and desire nothing, we are free.

There is no right or wrong. There just “is.”

Awareness

Awareness is the first step to inner peace. To master life, we need to understand what we feel in every moment and why. Ask yourself in the moment, "what is really happening here, right now"

Trust

Trust is all powerful. To trust means to accept what we have been taught to fear.

It means surrendering control – we never really have it anyway

To be happy we must trust that our destiny will be manifest in its most perfect way.

It means acceptance – that results are what is meant to be, rather than what we ask for.

Language

“Be careful what you wish for, it might come true” – is so true. The way we use language in our thoughts, desires, words and actions shapes many things. “First there was the word, and the word was made man”

Bringing thoughts to reality

Know very clearly what you want. Clearly describe it. Then allow it to be so; trust that it will happen. Finally, “Be” in total harmony with the request – live and learn as though your thoughts are already real. It is so simple: Believe, Trust and Be. Children do it all the time.

Ask for a “BLT” - Belief, Love and Trust.

Being “Grounded”

It’s hard to be wise and all-knowing when you need to pee. On the other hand, if you were grounded and living “in the moment,” you would become aware and do something about it rather than have your bladder announce it insistently. Live in the moment.

Waving Goodbye

Waving Goodbye 

I still see you stuck in a pram,

On a journey to the shops with Mum,

You waved me goodbye,

Your eyes never leaving me,

As you wheeled down the street.

 

The day you started school,

A wide-eyed little duckling,

Uncertain, waving tentatively,

You went out of our days.

 

Each and every morning,

You went to class,

Holding your brother’s hand,

You waved all the way in,

Looking over your shoulder.

On your brother’s last day in Primary,

You walked together for the last time,

And you waved as my vision blurred for tears.

 

High school,

Crisp uniform, wide brimmed hat,

Jacket sleeves too long for a boy,

A toughening time,

You waved and walked into your new life.

 

Today we dropped you at school,

And watched you shuffle off,

Tie undone,

Hair fashionably messed up,

Shirt hanging out, hat nowhere to be seen,

Rebellious, distant and absorbed,

Totally “cool.”

And still, you turned to us,

Absent minded,

And waved goodbye.

 

I drop you at a friend's

Your larger world awaits,

You sprint to the door in anticipation,

And yet you turned and wave.

 

At each and every stage,

At every awkward age,

My every instinct has screamed at me,

To run and hold you tight.

 

Whenever you wave,

I watch you grow,

And part of you walks away

Forever

But as long as you smile and wave,

You give me a gift,

I can never repay,

You show me why I was made.

 

To wave back.                                                                                                        

For Liam. Always. 

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

David and Venus

Passion’s fire transforms youth’s glowing ore

Into creation’s tempered sculpture,

Beautiful and blended,

A story told in fold and line.

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

Midnight Meditation

Midnight Meditation

Look deeply my friend; I have much to say,  

Less time than is possible.

I have guided you through these times of yours

And you must believe what I have to say.

You have much to do in your life ahead,

Don’t despair, be determined. It is your destiny

To explore all you have seen and so much more.

But you must devote yourself to inner peace.

Strive for the best you can give.

Don’t suffer unduly, that is a waste,

And make it your time to listen and learn.

The future is long and short as well,

You don’t have much time to yourself.

Try hard to be yourself and as much as you can,

Help others.

Look deeper my boy and see who I am,

Your curiosity is curbed by fear and laziness.

Fight these and you will see more than

Your present state of mind can imagine.

Above all, love the good in yourself and others.

Strive hard to make this surface.

Do not fear of what you will learn,

As you have thought, experience can mean wisdom.

Keep your mind open and learn.

Look very deep and you will know me.

Goodnight my son.

 

 

28 August 1981

 

An old one I dug up from some papers  - another late night message - written in Armidale Vic.

 

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

Avalon's Gauntlet

Avalon’s Gauntlet

Her King distracted

By battles and realms,

She stole from the castle gates,

Into the rolling mists of Avalon.

 

Searching her gloomy surrounds,

She caught the snorting breath of his steed,

Caught sight of her champion,

Waiting, visor raised, smiling gently.

 

Under his protective gaze,

The day’s icy fingers melted,

A shaft of sunlight framed them,

Anointing them with warmth.

His strong hand raised her,

Drew her close to him,

She unpieced his armour,

Saw his conflicted eyes,

He felt her lonely aching pain.

 

When he kissed her gently,

She drew into him,

And drank with the thirst

Of a parched soul,

After long months in love’s desert.

 

Close as they were,

Longing for time,

They could hear horns,

Calling from the keep;

“Guinevere, duty begs,

Lancelot, to arms!” 

 

She lightly touched his brow,

Not wanting to shed the brief moment,

She could not peel her eyes away

Wanted to breathe him deeply

The moment lingered,

The light faded,

The horns’ call urged,

Insistent.

 

He kissed her once more,

Set her down

With care for his love,

Leaving his heart’s queen,

Waved slowly, smiled sadly,

Rode to the horns,

Carried her burden away.

 

As he folded into the mist,

A chilling wind pierced her.

She stood in the growing rain,

Hiding the tears,

Felt her soul cleave once more.

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

Siren

Siren

 

She dances before you

Her flickering image tantalizes

Out of your touch

So far away

 

She likes it that way

 

She hints of a life

Lived many times over

She clasps her heart tight

Folded neatly away

From the world’s harsh sight

She protects her true self well.

 

She dances on a vast tightrope

Licking on danger’s neck

Her adrenaline pumps

Only when she dances like this

Does she feel alive

 

Demands more than just to survive

 

She knows what to say

Her teasing tendrils call

Your body and soul stirs

Respond with its yearning to connect

Desire consuming it all

 

She likes it that way

 

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

Making Movies

Making Movies

I love that stray tear,

As it seeps from weeping eyes,

Shudder-rent sob,

Escapes your guarded hold.

 

Iron grip of your hand,

A prayer of heartfelt hope,

Unconcious whispered groan,

Of ragged disappointment.

 

Wistful sigh,

When ends are left untied,

Or there be angels,

To plumb the good inside.

 

Most of all…

 

Your glowing smile,

As Capra and kin,

Reflect your heart,

And the laughing child within.

 

Your quiet contemplation,

Down rain lit street,

To walk in pools of light.

Locked arm in arm,

Steps syncopate and echo,

We fade into the night.

 

Together.

21 June 2004

 

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

The Corridor of Dreams

The Corridor of Dreams

She smiles, demure yet distant,

She beckons you inside,

Shed bitter grasp of life’s icy fingers,

And find a place to hide.

 

You cross the timeless threshold,

From young to old, it seems,

Tread creaking path of destiny,

In the corridor of dreams.

 

Chill rain drums a timpany on misted window glass,

Party thrums with scotch and ice along this mountain pass,

Travellers at the inn of life, she knows the room for you,

She darts unseen by bon vivants, entwines friends old and new.

 

Chesterfield dimples offer cozy respite,

You laugh, you flirt, you dance, you fight,

Tales grow bolder with the telling and wine,

Laughter flows deeply in this magical night.

 

By the crackling logs and the flickering light,

You sense a touch, she eludes all sight,

Her work complete healing souls today,

Her smile is warm and she drifts away.

 

We shall grow old together,

This much she has surely deemed,

As memories grow soft and echo,

Down the corridor,

Of dreams.

 

The reputed story of a ghost at our "Christmas in July weekend" in the beautiful town of Bright.

Copyright Pierre Nunns 

A Scar is Born

A Scar Is Born

Like any wound,

A broken heart,

Scabs and scars.

 

Like any wound,

Scabs are a sign,

Of pain,

Of labour,

Of healing.

 

Sooner or later,

Given care,

Given light,

Given air,

Scabs fall away,

A scar is born.

 

Like any wound,

Scars are a badge,

A sign you have tasted life,

And survived to tell the tale

 

Let your scabs heal you,

Let them fall away,

Show your new skin,

You are alive.

Copyright. Pierre Nunns