Spirit Wind ©

Its that time of the year when the wind blows from the inland bringing with it a promise of hot weather. On a run back from the airport this afternoon I was struck by the things the wind reminded me of. Certainly a wind of change, promising a release from the mild days that have preceded it.

The memory of bright red flowers that grew along a couple of verandas and outside a well remembered bed room in my childhood. In this case a reflection, a re-run of a lot of times both good and not so good came to mind. Certainly the idyllic times spent in quiet conversation with those whose voices are now talking on the wind. In traditional culture folklore the ancestors spoke on the wind, in the rain and from the night sky. Today standing at the airport looking out across the open expanse that surrounds the runways there was a feeling of being called by the voices in the wind.

In that quiet space I could have been any one of a dozen different places at any one of a dozen different times. Not all of which would have been in the past. Some of the earliest would have been when the south easterly wind blows in from the southern ocean in Albany or Esperance. Strangely enough the feeling was the same out in the Pacific around Fiji.

Another of sitting on the veranda of Grandfathers room at the farm in conversation about many different things. It always seemed as though there was no need to rush, just be a part of what was being said or done at the time.

Perhaps another time of significance was outside Church on any one of the many Sundays that finished up in discussions by those who only had their work, their town and their faith in common. A lot of wisdom was also imparted over cups of tea served on the back of a truck or the tailgate of a ute, or even a super bag spread out on the ground.

A lot of the voices can still be heard as if they are talking now.

The particular voice qualities, funny ways of pronouncing some words, the stories of organ grinders and monkeys who would pick your pocket that Great Grandma White told us, all seem to somehow be linked to that wind at this time of year.

Is it a vivid imagination or maybe a desire for a quieter way of life that allows them to be heard. Its not really important. What is important is the value placed on the experience. Today was as relaxing as a holiday on the coast, something different to think about, to reflect on. How much the voices and their influence have shaped decisions made along the way to the here and now.

In the same way as the old cultures trust the guidance of the medicine man to tell them the meanings of the voices words, it's possible to place value on others experiences and save ourselves the trouble of having to repeat the same mistakes they made.

Therein lays a problem though, because nature seems to have endowed we humans with a desire to try the ice cream ourselves rather than trusting someone elses opinion of it.

Even so all people have something of value to add to the fabric of our family and society. From the infant struggling to form sounds and be understood, to those who have a wealth of wisdom if given the chance to share it.

Someone said once that we have two ears and one mouth and should use them in that proportion. After the battle of Gettysburg, in the American civil war, a general stood up and addressed the troops for quite a long time. Abraham Lincoln on the other hand spoke fifty six words and summed all that needed to be said. The funny thing is that Lincolns' address is the one that is remembered today.

Often now I hear things being said, little phrases or a particular way of saying a word and realise I've heard it before, spoken by someone else. Even more uncanny is that often it was spoken by someone who passed on before the present speaker was born. As Sir Laurence Olivier said in his last stage performance “choose your words with care’‘ (a replay of his part in the production 'Time').

Having made one career out of choosing my words with care it is pleasant to now reflect on the carefully chosen words of the care givers, the nurturers, those we've known and loved, respected and admired.

Taking time today to listen to the words of those many voices has served as a reminder that tomorrow they may be useful in some part of what I do in working with others. How in some simple way the gift given through that communication may be passed on to serve as a reminder of the wisdom we may not see now.

It’s not just the great writers and speakers who have gifts to pass on. It may be someone who spoke their truth so quietly that we didn’t hear it, but will remember when they speak on the wind.

© 8 January 1998