TED deserves caps

Turning the world inside out: A man with vision, JR, winner of a TED award. Well worth the viewing time (24 minutes) so pop back if you don't have time to watch it now.

Website for project: click here.


Today I am grateful for the vision of JR.

a question of need?

Today is International Women's Day. It's an interesting concept, and in light of blog comments a few days ago one that can't pass unmentioned in this blog. One such comment was:

Domestic violence, restricted educational and financial opportunities, lack of voting rights, female circumcision, honour killings, female infanticide, trafficking and sexual exploitation, all these things and more still exist in so many countries around the world, including developed nations.

Sadly, this is very true. This is a tragic case in point: the earthquake in Christchurch has increased domestic violence at a time when refuge homes or safe houses have been destroyed.

Here in Italy it is the Festa della Donna. A quick google turned up some sites I'd rather not have seen, or should I write sights I'd rather not have seen? It's not that I am a prude at all, but it is sad when the original purpose of a celebration is lost and commercial hype and sexual innuendo take the place of serious recognition and debate about the issues facing women even today. You could argue that these strip shows are about equality for women, but human rights and the safety of women are far more important to me.

I wonder, are the women of Rome who protested recently about the predilictions of their prime minister engaged in strip shows and the like this evening? Or might they prefer the Wikipedia version of the day (which has information not included in the English Wikipedia).

The mimosa is only just coming into bloom; it has been too cold I think. There are still heavy dumpings of snow quite low on the hills around me. From the other side of the valley it is picturesque; here on my cold floors a more appropriate word is freezing! Despite the cold I will always think of Australia on 8 March as the advertising for the Festa della Donna always includes the mimosa, or wattle flowers.

Today I am grateful for serious conversations.

thoughtfully agree

"The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least." —Unknown Author

As I pegged out the washing (on the fence, as you do) this beautiful spring morning I looked across the valley and felt that my needs really are so few... more time with my family is the only thing I could ask for, and that is something I am working on!

There is something really grounding about not having the so called "best" of everything; it helps to keep the real treasures of life in perspective.

A first tooth for a darling baby, a fence to protect a precious growing toddler so he can play freely... these are the real highlights of my days.

Today I am grateful for a gentle breeze and sunshine.

searching blogs

On a crisp Sunday morning when outdoors is not too inviting...

This morning I was searching my own blog for photos and a reference to pass on to documentary film folk heading this way. In the process I found this reference, "Sharpening up for War", and am inspired by it all over again.

I tried to follow the artist's blog to see where it was heading now. It doesn't appear to have been updated since Remembrance Day, 2007.

In the course of the search I somehow ended up reading this article on feminism. I have never seen myself as a feminist, but increasingly I believe that women are the greatest untapped resource in the world, and that a real education for a culture of peace must start in the home with whichever parent it is who sets the tone for the family environment.

But for now, and for the future, I am grateful that the world has people like Richard Johnston in it. In this digital age where we are bombarded with photographic and video images it takes a pencil image to slow us down, to make us think.

Today I am grateful for people who "follow through".

slept in

I wanted to watch the Ironman competition on live video, but my hero crossed the finish line as I slept. I think he would approve of the lapse.

As I type this the tail-enders are crossing the line, 16 hours after they started the race with the swim early in the morning. Despite the terrible conditions they are exhaustedly happy. They don't worry about the ticking clock, and stop to hug their supporters before they get to the finish line. They come from all body types, age groups, nations and occupations. They are all in this together, equal competitors with a shared goal. Punctures, rain, other obstacles do not choose one over another because they are more or less wealthy or more or less "worthy".

At 16 hours and 6 minutes after the race began a young Asian runner has knelt on the ground just before the finish line, taken a ring from his kit and, looking into the crowd said, for all the world to hear, "I hope our love is as strong as an ironman. Will you marry me?" Luckily the young lady said "Yes". I get tearful watching the finish at the best of times, but this scene, as the rain poured down, was very special. I wish them a life of happiness. (I also hope that I am never put in such a position, my answer would almost certainly be NO!!!)

What is it that drives some to compete against themselves, pushing their bodies to the limits, while others choose more antisocial activities? If only we could channel more people to positive action, to social and personal good. Surely if all we ask of life is good health and happy relationships the rest would fall into place? Seven minutes after the proposal a young woman crosses the line. Noone is there to meet her, she accepts her medal and the towel placed around her by officials, and disappears from view. Somehow you sense that inside her is a deep personal satisfaction, she has made it, she is an "Ironman".

You can read the progress of the event, and see some pretty cool photos, here.

The last competitors are now 4 kilometres from the finish. The announcer who keeps up the encouragement although it is almost midnight asks us to keep throwing our positive thoughts out there to them. A band of supporters ignore the rain and call out to the exhausted runners. I didn't see my son cross the finish line, but I will cheer in the last competitors from my couch on the other side of the world. They deserve recognition too.

Today I am grateful for positive examples to follow.

no photos allowed

except outside, of course!Part of the Cassino group at the abbey in traditional costumes from Ciociaria, Italy.
The young bearers with the peace torch after the ceremony.
Impressive.
I would have loved to photograph the fabulous interior of the abbey, but obediently kept my camera in my bag.

*****

Westminster Abbey was quite splendid, although smaller than I expected. The fabulous gothic spires seem fairy-tale like and taller because the church is quite narrow, and I could have gazed at the architecture for hours. But there were other things to see and hear as well... the choir boys so earnest, just as I imagined they would be, the pageantry of the Italian procession, the power of the organ music... the whole experience was great.

Thankyou to the Italians who invited me to go to London for the Lighting of the Benedictine Peace Torch, and to the Monte Cassino Foundation for Remembrance and Reconciliation for giving me a role at the wreath-laying ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Fact for the day: Westminster Abbey was built by the Benedictines. I'd never have guessed that!

Oddity: Arriving early for rehearsal meant that we had the abbey to ourselves, not a tourist in sight. It also meant time for a coffee... in a partially covered cloister, where a modern coffee bar looked so temporary and incongruous against the ancient stones. Reading that "Near this place lies the body of..." as I sipped my excellent latte was disconcerting to say the least.

Photos are banned in the Abbey, but someone sent me this, with apologies for the quality of the image.

(poppies surround the tomb of the unknown soldier from WWI, his body being buried there, in the main entrance to the Abbey, in 1920).

Today I am grateful for a very interesting life.

catching up

Wednesday 2 March

Occasionally I am challenged by well-meaning people and feel obliged to defend my belief that peace is an achievable objective. At times I doubt myself, but not my goals, and contemplate a simple life painting, teaching, and enjoying “living the dream” that so many assume I am already doing. Then unexpectedly, something happens that reminds me that I am doing the right thing, that I am not really a lone voice, and that ideals are important.

Today, jet-lagged and stuck somewhere between New Zealand and Italy time, I am awake about three hours too soon in an English household. Luckily for me my host has an excellent library. From my bed the title “Sociolinguistics” kept beckoning me. Eventually I rose and pulled it from the shelf. It was an old book, yellowed, with tiny print. Two pages in it was hard work. Defeated, I returned it to the shelf. Near it, (how had I missed it before?) stood a newer volume, tall and slim. The title: “Between the Lines: Voices of Women engendering Peace and Democracy”. This volume, “A project initiated and coordinated by Arbeitskreis deutscher bildingsstaetten” is one that will change my life.

Today I am going to Westminster Abbey and will be meeting German, Italian, British and Polish friends there. We will remember WWII, lay wreaths for the fallen, talk about peace initiatives for youth, and wonder how we can make a difference.

Following that ceremony will be the Lighting of the Peace Torch by the Abbot of Montecassino. A large entourage from Italy will be involved.

This morning, dressed and wondering what time I should head downstairs where all is dark and quiet, I am reading about women who have overcome incredible obstacles to take part in a peace initiative. This initiative is born out of the words I hear so often at Cassino, “Never again”.

Hannelore Chiout, the initiator of the project, writes “I belong to the so-called second generation, the generation following the Perpetrators. All of my conscious political life involved the German past and German guilt. Our fathers had murdered, our mothers remained silent. Our inner commitment was “Never again!” Responsibility meant intervention. Intervention meant having our eyes open to what was wrong, in order to not close our eyes again in the face of the wrong once again” (Chiout, H. “Beyond certainty: expedition into unknown worlds” in Between the Lines, AdB 2008, p. 11).

The book documents the first ten years of a project where German, Israeli, Palestinian and Israeli-Palestinian women meet, often against all odds, and develop a space where, over time, friendship and acceptance replace political and cultural hostilities.

When I read about their work I wonder not “Is my work futile?” but “Am I working hard enough?”

Today I am grateful for women with vision.