I live on a little mountain. The terrain surrounding my house is quite steep and I enjoy walking down and up its slopes every once in a while. Because my place sits on the crest of the mountain I can wander over either side. The face travailing down from my place offers a dry expanse of gums and low-lying scrub. I frequent this route more regularly than the other. At certain times of the year the air teams with butterflies feeding from the nectar of the mountain. The earth on this side is home to echidnas that scoop up the earth in search of ant mounds. The trees here sometimes sound like they’re screaming out as their trunks come together and come apart. It is a land with a history.
On the opposite side the bush takes on a smoother decline and the mountain rain is preserved from the harsh sun by a deeper, denser rainforest habitat where tree ferns and mosses play around the Olinda Creek. I enjoy visiting this side, particularly in the wet when the forest breathes a freshness, its fragrant offering to this carbon polluted atmosphere.
There’s a face up on my mountain that has some very nice viewing spots. One of these areas is a commercialised viewing place that has been recently updated to include a multi-million dollar restaurant/conference/reception building, landscaped gardens and a nice big fat gate with tolls for parking. As you can probably guess, that spot’s pretty popular with the locals. A little up the road one can find the more natural lookout, known locally as The Rocks and renowned by many young Melbournites for its late night romanticism and dazzling city light scenery. I got up to this spot early in the morning last week to think and bring things before God. Questions. Things that sat deep on my heart. Questions.
It’s good to be here. Sometimes I need to be woken up to the rich earthy palate of colours and the graceful gum trees. Woken up from a state of introspective dwelling. I need to be here more often.
Earlier this week I made my way into the city to a particularly lovely book/music store with a voucher in hand to spend at my pleasure. The voucher was from my last birthday, which was no short time ago, but I’d been saving it for a rainy day.
Well, I’m not entirely sure how long I was there, it was certainly over a couple of hours of sifting through a multitude of books, pouring over large glossy photographic records and dipping into contemporary culture critiques. I considered acquiring a book that told the escapist tale of travelling along the Mediterranean coast with the smell of crushed olives underfoot. How I would love to escape at this very moment. But no, sense got the better of me and I left that one on the shelf next to the story of a blind man racing around the world in so many days. Although the photography books were more than satisfactory for my eager eyes, they exceeded the value of my voucher and had to be closed and placed back on the shelf.
It was then that I passed the music section and a face caught my eye. Although I believe this woman has the voice of the soul of a people I have never really given her the time of day. Not since my favourite aunt’s wedding where my eleven year old self fell in love with everything about this one song she sang and returned several times to the jukebox where I ensured it was played numerous times throughout the night. We all love a jukebox hog. So just in case you were wondering the song was Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinead O’Connor. I think Sinead has produced some much finer work since. But back to the story, her face caught my eye on a promotional board and I decided to have a quick listen to her new album Theology. From this brief snippet of listening I decided it would be a worthy use of my voucher and I went home with the double CD in my possession.
I am more than happy with my rediscovery of Sinead. I know this intense feminine figure is not every individual’s cup of tea, but damn she’s blown me away with this album. It’s been a long time since I’ve found such a raw and honest look at the world through the musical medium. Antony’s I am a bird now rocked me in a similar fashion with its sadness and human frailty. Theology gives an image of God that I can thoroughly embrace. It shows God in the way that I understand this being of immense purity to be. She renders God as a God of the defeated, the broken, the lonely. A God who cries over those that have missed the point of this life.
You know the soul and you know what makes it go…
I wanna make something so lovely for you,
Cos’ I promised that’s what I’d do for you;
With the Bible I stole, I know you forgave my soul,
because such was my need on a chronic Christmas eve;
And I think we’re agreed that it should’ve been free,
and you sang to me…
“They dress the wounds of my poor people as though they’re nothing,
Saying ‘peace, peace,’ when there’s no peace.”
I love this.
I came on line to ask a question. Or rather, to put to you, my unspecified reader, a proposal as to what is the most significant question you could ask. I emphasise the pronoun you here because our questions stem from the experiences and knowledge of our being. I know God. Therefore the way I approach this question matter will be indicative of such knowing. In fact, the question that underlies my question will be, what is the one thing that I would most like to ask God?
I think I’ve said enough. Maybe there’s too much wondering going on here and not enough asking. Gurzilla has also just posted on a similar vein of thought and has done so in a manner much more thrilling and thoughtful than this dull little lady. He suggests that all of our questions are weighted with significance. There’s truth in this. And perhaps the answers, or lack of answers we receive, are also equally central to this quest called life.
God is in fresh growth God is in a newborn God is in flesh God is in the music God is in the smell of rain God is in the arms of a loved one God is in one’s conscience God is in hope God is in a laugh God is in the lungs God is in the strength of defying gravity God is in the dust God is there in the heartache God is there in the headache God is there in the shit of the darkest night God is there in the blood God is in the void God is in the beauty God is in the running God is in the bread God is in the feet God is in the smile God is in the wine God is in the life God is in you… God is…
“My God, why have you forsaken me?”
God is…
