Bondi Beach in June

La Dolce Vita in Adelaide

 Some Facts and Impressions: 

The colony of South Australia was created by free settlers

One of the founding fathers abducted an heiress, which landed him in gaol in the UK

The indigenous population is better integrated into the society here

The river and the foreshores are peaceful and flora and fauna abound

There is a wonderful Arts Centre here

You can catch trams all around the city for free

You can engage in the art of "flaner" here (I learnt to do this in Paris): That is, wander around the place and discover charming and surprising phenomena at every turn

From an Article in the Advertiser while I was in Adelaide: May 19, 2009 

SOUTH Australia is a state where life is uniquely celebrated and "immeasurably sweet", says Governor-General Quentin Bryce. She told a reception to honour the state's volunteers this morning that she had fond memories of coming to an early Festival of Arts in Adelaide, not long after the first event in 1960, and said South Australians had a generous talent for living.'"Food and wine, art and performance - all flourish here, all are given their proper place," she said."They find expression, too, in the Adelaide Festival of the Arts, Australia's premier cultural event, and a vivacious, extravagant showcase of what you do best here--la dolce vita."

Glenelg on the Great Australian Bight:  The Birthplace of the Colony: You can take a tram south to this beach-side locality in twenty minutes.  It is very flat and there are a lot of retirees, many using motorised chairs. There is a jetty reaching far out into the sea, where local fishermen sit and cast their lines out, and people promenade. The sea is flat and shallow for a long way out and you can see the sandy bottom. You can take long walks along the foreshores or forage in the many boutiques and tourist shops that line the main boulevard for kilometres.

Serendipity:  Old-style sweets shops like Blackeye's, below, and the Haig Chocolate shop, are famous in Adelaide. And I stumbled upon the best Health food shop I have ever seen anywhere.

 

Victoria Square Fountain with Statues: Aboriginal figurines; and the two flags in the background: A lovely contrast with the more traditional Queen Victoria Statue on another corner.

Rundle Street Mall where all the pigs have individual personalities and names: Truffles, Horatio, Augusta and Oliver.

On the river walk, I came across this doggy drinking trough, which made me think of my little dog back home. And black swans on the river are very tame, beautiful and healthy-looking

There's Something About Helen

When I studied The First Stone by Helen Garner at the University of Technology Sydney as part of a Master's degree in Professional Writing, I noticed that there were two camps: those who loved her book, and those who saw her as a traitor of the feminist cause.  I was in the former camp, but many of the (younger) women belonged to the other side, along with (I think) the male teacher at the time. Admittedly, this was one of her more polemical works,  in that it dealt with her support of a master at a Melbourne university college, who in 1995 was accused of sexual misconduct towards two female residents. The main reason for her support, I gathered, was her compassion for the master and his family, over what she saw as a minor incident that could have been handled differently. Instead, he and his family had to suffer the ignominy of his sacking and public disgrace.

More recently, I have been part of a book club whose members chose to study Garner's first novel, Monkey Grip, set in the seventies in Melbourne. Again there was a polarising effect: we either loved or hated this fictional work based on Helen's diaries from the time. The book revolves around the lives of members of a communal household and their friends, focusing for the main part on Nora and Javo who are in a co-dependent relationship, he addicted to heroin, she simply love-addicted. They are typical of the hedonistic, often anarchistic, youth that congregated around certain places, such as university campuses, in the 60s and 70s, intent on experimenting with life-styles, drugs and sexual freedom. The strength of the novel is its recording of a social movement at a moment in time that in itself polarised society and widened the generation gap for years to come. Tempers flared during the discussions, one side having only positive things to say about the book, the other side seeing only its flaws. "So honest and brave!" said one side,  "A truthful historical account of the 60s and 70s as a poetic/creative era of experimentation, symbolised by the poetry throughout." " It needs a good editor!" said the other side.

By coincidence, another friend who belongs to a book group on the Central Coast also read Garner around the same time as my group. To quote her words exactly, she thinks of Helen Garner more as a friend than as a name on a book cover. "Helen got so used to me lining up for her to sign her latest work that she wrote in one: 'To Denise, in queue after queue'. Another memorable time I happened to see her in David Jones. Holding a brand new copy of her My Hard Heart and a lot of chutzpa, I approached her to sign it. She wrote on the flypage: 'To Denise, just before Christmas in the DJ's knicker department! Warm regards.'"

Denise goes on to say: "The main reason I think of Helen Garner as a friend is the same one held by many of her readers, especially women. It's her personal, intimate writing style, which invites the reader into her life and into her heart. She holds nothing back, even if it's controversial, as it was with The First Stone. She is able to say so much with so few words. Her style is always spare, even chiselled, yet never dry. Re-reading her collection The Feel of Steel I was struck again by the economy of her prose which expresses such fiercely honest emotions. How does she do it? Just as an artist achieves a likeness with a few strokes, so she paints vivid word pictures of feelings, events, sights and smells. Strangely enough, only I and one other member of our book group liked Helen Garner and her work; all the other members disliked her intensely for the very same reasons that I love her. People complained that she was too personal, even invasive with her tell-all style. One woman announced that she didn't need people like Helen in her life because she sounds too angry. We were discussing The Spare Room, her latest novel in which anger does play a part, but to my mind only to fuel the exposure of suspect alternative medical practices and their exploitation of vulnerable people like the woman in the story. We try to be democratic in our book club, but I began to feel like a voice in the wilderness."

I have read all of Garner's books, and place myself squarely on the side of those who love her, and think that she writes well. I lived through the same radical era in Sydney of the 70s as Garner did in Melbourne. I relate to her perspective and empathise with her exploration of the inner self.  I have always admired her honesty and the fact that her books speak of "real life" and "emotional truth" while still using fictional techniques that make for pleasant reading. I admire especially her courage and the fact that she explores, among others, personal issues and mundane events that are often seen as unimportant by other writers, because they are linked to family and to domesticity. Looking over the Sydney Writers' Festival program, I am disappointed to see only a mention of Helen Garner in a talk by Brigid Rooney on "Literary Activists" and her "intensely politically engaged" stance as a "crusader of the keyboard." Is this, perhaps, what puts the other side off?

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My Brother Don

My brother Don was brave. He could climb the tallest trees in the valley where I grew up. When Dad sent me back to my room, when I was three and afraid of the dark and the noises coming through the walls, because he wanted Mum all to himself, I climbed in next to Donny. I felt the flip of his penis like a lizard, as he moved in his sleep to make room for me. He wasn't afraid of snakes or frogs or anything. We rode Midget bareback and did circus tricks upon his rump. Donny got blamed for everything, even putting water in the rain gauge, the time I did it because I was scared of Uncle Eric and wanted to punish him. When my brother went off to school, I was sad and angry. When our pony fell upon his head I felt guilty, as if it was my fault. Donny wasn't good at school; not like Billy, who was the cuckoo in the nest; Mum said he was a genius when he listened to the Chickabidees of the Air at two years of age. "There's a thin line between genius and madness!" she said later, because she was afraid.  Donny liked finding birds' eggs and blowing them, putting a tiny speck of red wax on the hole and placing them in a glass-lidded box. Once he caught a sparrow on the farm next door, and showed it to Mad Old Ned, who took it from him, raised the axe slowly and deliberately, and smashed its head upon a block. Don's head has been asleep for a long time. It's time to go there now. It's time to whisper in his ear. He is in a dark place and afraid to let go. Time now to fly and soar like an eagle high up in the sky. Fly, Brother Eagle, fly!

The Four Humours

Original physiology and medecine were based on a concept of the "four humours" present in the body

Physical health was seen as being dependent on a balance of the four elemental fluids of blood, yellow bile, phlegm and black bile within the body. These were allied with the four elements of Air (blood), Fire (yellow bile), Water (phlegm), and Earth (black bile). By way of an extension, the state of the human mind, personality and character was described in relation to these categories. 

Blood was associated with hot and moist air, and a physiology and temperament so classified was seen as being "sanguine", meaning healthy,  happy, amorous, passionate and generous, possibly courageous, too. The ancients and medieval physicians discovered that blood-letting seemed to relieve certain illnesses, but tended to use it in many cases that were probably unwarranted. It is still used today in treating patients with Haemochromatosis, a genetic disease that results in absorption of all iron ingested in the body instead of a small amount.

A person linked to yellow bile was thought to be "choleric" because of humour hot and dry like fire. This temperament could cause violent outburst and a vengeful character, probably also resulting in recognised illnesses for this type.

Watery phlegm, being cold and moist, described perfectly the "phlegmatic" type of person whom the ancients saw as of a cowardly disposition, dull and pale, and probably suffering from illnesses of the lungs and breathing.

The cold and dry personality, on the other hand, was said to be "melancholic" and related to the black bile suggestive of the earth element. This category is still applicable today with more and more patients suffering from the "Black Dog", depression that is more and more common in younger and younger people today. 

Galen is often regarded as the father of present day medecine (or parent to be politically correct but it does not sound right). He lived a couple of centuries after the birth of Christ. He had patients who were obviously mentally ill, and they were tagged then with names such as "lunacy" and "mania", which seem much less kind than the inoffensive "bipolar disorder" that is the preferred term today for what these people might have had. Galen prescribed alkaline spring baths for his patients with mania. I wonder how he knew to do that? As it turns out, lithium salts are abundant in many spring waters on the earth.

The story jumps to 1948 in Australia, where a young unknown scientist in the field of psychiatry, by the name of JFJ Cade, is trying to discover the cause of manic depressive illness, to use the discarded term for bipolar. He looks in the urine of those affected with the condition (as scientists naturally do, yuk) to see if there are any clues. And in the course of those investigations, for some reason, he comes fortuitously to inject guinea pigs with Lithium Carbonate. He notices that the guinea pigs become lethargic. For some reason, God knows why(! ), he decides to inject his patients with Lithium Chloride, and in 1949 published a preliminary clinical trial in the quite obscure Medical Journal of Australia. His reports showed that he had discovered something amazing, for the patients with "psychotic excitement," as he called it, improved a great deal.

Twenty years later the Food and Drug Administration in the United States endorses Lithium as an efficacious treatment for bipolar disorder.  Today it remains the frontline treatment for the disorder. Other drugs and adjunct psychotherapy are contenders only to be possible treatments. And Freud's theory was obviously wrong: Bipolar disorder was not a symptom of repressed internal conflict, but a result of neurological mis-functioning. The rest is history. Lithium has mad such a difference in the lives of many.

What remains from these characteristics today is the rich vocabulary associated with typical personalities and the psychological, rather than physiological, health aspects linked to them. (See Eysencks' chart above).

When I was little, I instinctively reacted to adults in my life in this way. For example, there was Uncle Eric, of whom I was afraid, because of his "choleric" disposition: the flash of his blue eyes, his jerky movements at the reins of the draught horses, red face flushed in anger and loud voice. Although he had a good heart, and I grew to understand him in later years, this image of him remained at the bottom of my consciousness. Interestingly, his main health problem became emphysema, a blockage of the lungs that could be seen in symbolic terms as caused by drying-out from lack of oxygen (too much fire!).

Uncle Garby, whom I loved, was as gentle as a lamb, generous, funny and of a more "sanguine" personality, like that of a child. He is still healthy in his nineties and outliving most of his seven siblings.

Grandma, although she was warm and loving towards me, was probably of a "melancholic" disposition towards the end of her life, when she sat in the whicker chair on the veranda and looked out at the world through her memory voice.

Grandpa ("Pop") on Dad's side of the family was a mixture of the "phlegmatic" and "sanguine" because he was a wise man, and had learnt how to harness his anger and sadness under a cloak of dry wit and good humour.  It is interesting to note, however, that he later suffered greatly from gall bladder stones,  symbolic, perhaps,  of too much emotional control during his life.

So the ancients were right in their observation of the importance of balance, even if the details and evidence-base of their medecine were questionnable.

Emotional Intelligence

At the Bondi Writers Group yesterday we listened to a talk from a writer on relationships, who has found work in Australia as a personal trainer. Carolyn Dahlman calls herself a "love coach". Her presentation was around the idea of networking in order to be published. This was very relevant for all of us, I thought. Most of the large group of writers who attended were hoping to be published one day. Many of us sit at home and hope to create publishable works without moving outside our study. Her message was that in this fast-moving world we need to self-promote through the internet and other technology at our disposal, and to go out and meet people and talk about our projects. Admittedly, she has found a saleable niche, in that many lonely people need her psychological know-how, and her skills for relating to others. At the same time, she knows how to self promote, loves what she does, and has boundless energy for doing so.

One of the questions was from a highly intelligent member of our group about the supra-importance of intelligence for a happy life. Some of us, including the speaker, disagreed with him. In fact, intelligence can be an obstacle in a person's search for "truth". The speaker's response was that "emotional intelligence" is far more important for finding love and happiness. She often meets intelligent men and women who are afraid of seeking out love (fearing commitment? emotional pain?) and who live a lonely life as a result. Several people in the group pointed out  examples of "idiot savants" (the "Rain Man" played by Dustin Hoffman) who can calculate extraordinary sums in their head, but who can barely look after themselves.

According to the Businessballs website : "Emotional Intelligence links strongly with concepts of love and spirituality: bringing compassion and humanity to work, and also to Multiple Intelligence theories, which illustrate and measure the range of capabilities people possess, and the fact that everybody has a value." Another definition of EQ is "a form of social intelligence that involves the ability to monitor one's own and others' feelings and emotions, to discrimiate among them, and to use this information to guide one's thinking and actions (Salovey and Mayer, 1990).

Daniel Goleman, in his 1995 book Emotional Intelligence, identified 5 aspects of the concept as follows: Knowing your emotions; Managing your own emotions; Motivating yourself; Managing relationships i.e. Managing the emotions of others.

In my experience, the fifth one is the hardest to achieve, with which many parents will agree.

Babies' Genome Screening

Within 5 years it will be possible to map a newborn baby's genome from a sample of blood by a prick on the heel, similar to the current testing for cystic fibrosis. Within ten years, routine mapping of babies' genomes will have become a reality, since legal issues and costing will have been solved by then. This brings with it huge medical advantages, as well as opening up a groundswell of controversy. Diseases such as diabetes and heart conditions may be predicted and preventive measures put in place; decisions about coupling and procreating may be more solidly based with the knowledge of one's genome in relation to that of one's partner's. But on the opposite side of the coin are privacy issues and ethical questions. For example, would you want your employer or your health insurer to know of a possible susceptibility to emotional disorders revealed in your genome? And would you want to know ahead of time if you had the gene for Alzheimer's Disease?

Genome mapping has become a reality because of the decreasing cost of the exercise. The first DNA sequencing of a human genome occurring in 2001 cost about $4 billion. But the cost of James Watson's and Craig Ventor's DNA sequencing two years ago was a mere $1 million. This represents an exponential drop in costing, and it is predicted that the procedure will take a few hours and cost less than $100 by 2012. (Reference: The Times Online, February 9th, 2009)

The baby in the picture, my grandson Lee Dickenson, has obvious physical features from both sides: his mother's blue eyes, his father's nose and expression, his paternal grandmother's mouth and possibly my wide-set eyes. But would it be helpful to be able to predict certain hereditary possibilities that might suggest future health issues?  I would say "yes". The social and moral issues can be solved in time, just as the legal and financial obstacles have been shown to be surmountable. In any case, the genie is already out of the bottle, and there is no going back. Therefore, let's embrace this new technology, while at the same time engaging in the debate surrounding it.

Australia Day

Yesterday was the Australia Day holiday. Since the growth of nationalism leading up to events during the Second World War, many Australians had been loath to celebrate their national day (26th January) which marks the beginning of the country as a nation (1788). Yesterday, however, we noticed a change: hundreds of youth wearing Australian icons and cars carrying banners and flags.  Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves in an authentic and typically laid-back Aussie way. On the grass at the beach there were large groups of visitors from African countries and India enjoying picnics and entertainment.

One of the factors has been the Prime Minister's apology to the Aboriginal people, especially to the Stolen Generation. It may be an unconscious thing, but people feel freer to celebrate, now that the shroud of racial discrimination has started to lift a little from Australia's persona.

I thought back to the time when I taught English to newly arrived migrants and refugees.  As a means of developing critical thinking in university students, we used the idea of an upside-down map of the world to show that placing the north at the top is no more than a convention. In fact, the first satellite image of the world from the spacecraft Apollo was of Antarctica at the top and Africa and Madagascar in central position.

I also thought about how more people in the world speak Mandarin than any other language, and how the fact that English is the most widespread language is merely a result of the growing economic importance of the United States during the last hundred years or so.  This could change at a certain point in the future, of course, and another language (Arabic? Mandarin? Who knows?) might take over as the dominant one. Esperanto never really took off, because it was not linked to economic issues. 

Most people who migrate to Australia do so for economic or political reasons, or maybe for the climate. If you lived in Europe, after all, why would you wish to leave the  culturally diverse richness that you were born into, unless you were suffering financially?  Australia, on the other hand, has a lot to offer in terms of natural beauty, spaciousness and climate, as well as its egalitarian reputation. Class differences barely exist, although some people hold up money as their raison d'être.

Fear and the Search for Love and Happiness

According to psychologists and spiritual masters, the push towards the opposing poles of joy and fear is basic to all humans. This fits in, also, with evolutionary theories of fight and flight responses. All strongly felt emotions (anger, jealousy, desire, envy, excitement, compassion) are basically a response or movement towards one or other of these two polarities. It seems very simple, but the knowledge of this fact can assist those in the grip of powerful emotions to achieve inner peace.

My grandfather, whom I realise now was a wise man, used to say: "All things in moderation," as he ate one of his three sweets allowed for the day. But it used to annoy me (anger response!). Like a lot of young people, I was wedded to the idea of excess rather than moderation. He was right, but it is difficult for a young person to follow this code, and Grandpa's words seemed to emanate from a philosophical, rather than from a heartfelt, position. His statement came across as if clothed in his usual 'Old English' dry wit.

The opposing response to the anger of a motorist who is displaying 'road rage', is that of patience, which is something that can be practised and learned by both the aggressive driver and the one who is the target of the anger. Instead of feeling angry towards the homeless person asking for a coin, generosity moves in the other direction towards compassion. Jealousy towards the good fortune of others, requires a response of joy in others' good fortune. And as everyone knows, spending one's life accumulating great wealth is not necessarily a pathway to happiness, but can lead to emotional miserliness and an unquiet mind, instead, which are symptoms of underlying fear

Buddhists believe that the realisation and putting into practice of such wisdom could lead to the end of wars. They take this one step further, and state that all actions and emotions are related to karma (past actions of a certain polarity) that will ripen and manifest at a certain point in time. Everything is linked to cause and effect, which may not be the same thing as 'good' and 'bad' actions.

The ability to remain in the present, rather than being pulled back into the past, or always living for the future, is the basic aim of meditation, and at the core of finding inner peace. Buddhists even turns a certain well-known axiom on its head, by stating: "Don't just do something, sit there!" They believe that the world can be changed through the process of enlightenment, via meditation and other spiritual practices. It makes me think back to my own early radical initiatives, when I believed that the world was on the brink of permanent and lasting change that would come about via "isms" such as socialism, marxism and feminism among others. Unfortunately, I tried to change the world, but the world didn't change; in fact the world changed me.

My daughter, born two decades later, seems to have brought with her a direct realisation of the world as a life skills training ground, something akin to a giant university, without the emphasis on formal intellectual skills and prowess, where one is confronted with one's particular lessons to be learned over and over again in different guises, until it finally sinks in and one can move on to the next hard lesson. It is a bit like peeling an onion of its many layers, one peel at a time, or like relieving a cabbage of its leaves to get to the heart of it.

Why is it, for example, that we are born into families wherein opposites exist in an almost blatant form? We are thereby challenged, from a young age, to deal with emotional situations that many adults are not able to cope with. The idea that opposites attract is not just a trite romantic notion, but a widely occurring phenomena, inadequately explained, in my experience, by psychological theories, such as position in the family, or genetic patterns.

Losing It

When I was having Gestalt therapy during the seventies and eighties, anger release was seen to be a positive thing. There were sound-proof rooms in clinics for this purpose. My therapist, Sarah, encouraged me to get rid of it, often without success; other negative emotions, such as jealousy and hatred were competing with anger and frustration at the time. In Gestalt, one worked on all aspects of the person: body, emotions, spirit and intellect. It was very powerful and at the same time, nurturing ; the therapist was like a kind and wise mother figure. But I got stuck in the womb from which my new self was attempting to be reborn, and I turned to a male psychiatrist to finish off the process. Dr Jordan was a risk taker, and the process ended in a breakdown, from which I emerged, after a "mopping-up" period (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy had arrived by then!) cleansed of many of the bad feelings I was carrying, especially depression.

In Buddhism, anger is seen as the number one obstacle to spiritual progress; its opposite is patience, an extremely difficult virtue to acquire. Of course, love—compassion—as in all religions, is held up as the ultimate value to strive for on the road to enlightenment. It is all so simple, and yet so difficult to achieve. Before the Buddhists, Carl Jung was one of my mentors. He perceived, after comparing religions, that the journey of transformation is at the mystical heart of all of them. It is a journey to meet the self and at the same time to meet the Divine. Unlike Sigmund Freud, Jung thought spiritual experience was essential to our well-being.

Why Buddhism? Kadampa Buddhism, with Geshe Kelsang Gyatso as the Root Guru, pulled me into its aura over time. I had been meditating on and off, during the eighties, but without commitment. There were signposts, and people along the way, that influenced me. I found "The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying" in a second-hand bookshop and was amazed; my younger sister, Jill, chose Buddhist music for Mum's funeral exit march; Tibetan flags fluttered into my line of vision over time; a rupture in communication with my son, who had moved into a Buddhist owned house in Paterson, drove me to attend classes at the Mahasiddha Temple in Bondi with an excellent young monk; I found my ability to detach from my suffering started to grow. The teachings were liberating, and I began to commit.

Buddhists are also practical, and often prescribe the middle way, rather than the extreme, which suits me. Buddhism is like a banquet, from which you can select from what is on offer: wise teachings on happiness, relaxing meditations, mystical offerings, paths to enlightenment or detachment from earthly suffering. A psychologist friend recently spent some time in Nepal to attend a Happiness Conference, where he met a French monk who is said by the media to be "the happiest man on earth". My friend is a specialist in the scientific approach to mental illness (especially the use of CBT) but he was moved by the wisdom and peacefulness of these monks (if sceptical about the more mystical claims), and has been invited to return to visit a monastery in Nepal. I predict change is afoot for this materialistic but generous soul.

The Parable of the Twins

Yes, birth is painful, but it depends on how you approach it, with fear and resignation, or with the richness of knowledge and the strength and miracle of love.

Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived in the womb. Seconds, minutes, hours passed as the two embryonic lives developed. The spark of life grew and each tiny brain began to take shape and form. With the development of their brain came feeling, and with feeling, perception--a perception of surroundings, of each other, and their own lives. They discovered that life was good and they laughed and rejoiced in their hearts.

One said to the other, "We are so lucky to have been conceived and to have this wonderful world."

The other chimed in, "Yes, blessed be our mother who gave us life and each other."

Each of the twins continued to grow and soon their arms and fingers, legs and toes began to take shape. They stretched their bodies and churned and turned in their little world. They explored it and found the life cord which gave them life from their mother's blood. They were grateful for this new discovery and sang, "How great is the love of our mother - that she shares all she has with us!".

Weeks passed into months and with the advent of each new month, they noticed a change in each other and in themselves.

"We are changing," one said. "What can it mean?"

"It means", said the other, "that we are drawing near to birth."

An unsettling chill crept over the two. They were afraid of birth, for they knew that it meant leaving their wonderful world behind.

Said the one, "Were it up to me, I would live here forever."

"But we must be born," said the other. "It has happened to all the others". Indeed, there was evidence inside the womb that the mother had carried life before theirs. "And I believe that there is life after birth, don't you?"

"How can there be life after birth?" cried the one. "Do we not shed our life cord and also the blood tissue when we are born? And have you ever talked to anyone that has been born? Has anyone ever re-entered the womb after birth to describe what birth is like? NO!" As he spoke, he fell into despair, and in his despair he moaned, "If the purpose of conception and our growth inside the womb is to end in birth, then truly our life is senseless." He clutched his precious life cord to his breast and said, "And if this is so, and life is absurd, then there really can be no mothers!"

"But there is a mother", protested the other. "Who else gave us nourishment? Who else created this world for us?"

"We get our nourishment from this cord -- and our world has always been here," said the one. "And if there is a mother -- where is she? Have you ever seen her? Does she ever talk to you? No! We invented the mother when we were young because it satisfied a need in us. It made us feel secure and happy."

Thus, while the one raved and despaired, the other resigned himself to birth and placed his trust in the hands of his mother. Hours turned into days, and days into weeks. And soon it was time. They both knew their birth was at hand, and they both feared what they did not know.

As the one was first to be conceived, so he was the first to be born, the other following.

They cried as they were born into the light. They coughed out fluid and gasped the dry air. And when they were sure they had been born, they opened their eyes -- seeing life after birth for the very first time. What they saw was the beautiful eyes of their mother, as they were cradled lovingly in her arms. They were home.


Author Unknown

Births and Deaths

I believe that something miraculous occurs at the time of births and deaths. It is not merely the lighting or extinguishing of a human life, akin to switching on and turning off of a computer; it is much more than that.

Around the time of my father's death, and for many months, probably years, afterwards, time and space changed for me. It was not even that my earthly relationship with my father was a deeply expressed one; it was simply that things—matter, phenomena—moved aside at the time of his death, and I had a glimpse, for a moment, into a different dimension. When I try to explain what happened in words, it comes across as the utterings or ideas of a religious nut, an extremist, a fundamentalist freak, a crazy. I suppose it is akin to being crazy; I had a breakdown at some stage afterwards. I lay in the foetal position for months in front of the open fire. But then, a moment of Grace: the madness lifted, the light descended. Afterwards, it was as if my whole psyche had been shaken up and reformed into a different mix by my descent into the underworld. Afterwards I was free of that demon, Depression, which had shadowed me up until that time.

A reverse phenomena happened at the time of my children's birth, and recently when my first grandson was born. During Lee's water birth, there were suddenly, and without explanation, five of us: the midwife, the husband, the mother-in-law, the mother and the father, surrounding Kate and her oversize stomach as she lay in the tub of warm water ready to push. Andrei got in with her to support her body, and the rest of us each fulfilled a small task or offered a word of encouragement as the birth progressed. The energy and love in that small room was evident for all of us to witness. Warmth and the light of love seemed to flood us with its wonder and miraculous energy. I felt alive for the first time, as if this was what life was all about: giving birth, nurturing and developing a human life, so precious, so vulnerable, so strong! There is nothing quite like it on earth, no feeling so powerful as the one you experience at the time of a human being born. This was what has made me stronger, capable of protecting another life against all adversity, of mustering up courage in the face of fear, of drawing on all your human strength to nourish and nurture another. Again it sounds far-fetched, extreme, the mouthings of a fool. But if this is what a fool is, then, yes, I am one!

A Welcome to a Long-Awaited Son

Thursday, 13th November, 2008: The Day of Your Birth

It was around 4am when Grandad Mark’s mobile phone rang, waking us from our sleep. Thirty minutes earlier, she had rolled out of bed onto the floor in a cascade of waters. Your Mummy has always been a very dramatic person!

Here is a photo of the sky on the morning of your birth, when I looked out towards the south. The omens had been positive: my favourite Blue Wren and his Jenny Wren had been around; cacophonies of bird songs abounded in the garden; and a cricket had chirruped inside for two nights leading up to your coming. I knew that the signs were good for your imminent arrival, especially your Mummy's assertive "nesting" behaviour (e.g. sanding and painting in "Bright Rhubarb" your e-Bay sideboard), so I was not surprised, though a ittle shocked, when we got the phone call at 4 am.

So I am tired but happy that you, a little Scorpio, have joined us on earth. I know that you are a very special little boy, for you are surrounded by so much love and anticipation, from your Mummy and Daddy, Grandma Lee, whose name you will inherit, and Grandad Mark and me (your other Grandma), as well as your relatives in Auckland and my sisters and aunt and uncle. One day you will also get to know your Uncle Joel, a very loving person, and your little cousin, Ariadne, and her family.

Grandma Lee has devoted hours and hours to knitting you two very special soft toys that you will soon get to know. You have multiple copies of everything in the way of clothing in natural fibres and swaddling pieces, more than any baby could ever wish for!

Your Daddy is going to be a hands-on father, I know, and he will dote on you and be there for you whenever you need him. Daddy has two doggies, Gibson and Fender, for you to play with when you are old enough, and you even have an older Kiwi brother, Jaydin, whom you will get to meet one day.

Mummy has been actively “nesting” for weeks now. She will be a wonderful mother. She has been to a special course with Daddy, and she has watched dozens of videos on birthing and child rearing, as well as read heaps of books, and can answer any question that one could put to her on the subjects. She has lost all fear: “Knowledge is power!” says Grandma Lee.

Mummy has made the house perfect for your arrival. She has been asking for advice on housekeeping tips from me, and together we have worked out a schedule and bought lots of necessities for this end. Grandma Lee has made a veggie garden and Mummy has worked on bringing some order into the back yard. Everything is ready for you, darling boy!

Southall Group

This is a photo of my Smith House room-mates and classmates from Armidale Teachers' College in 1961-62. We went to a Photo studio in Armidale to have out group and individual photos taken. Dianne Short (married name, Gallaghar) was not able to be present, so her photo was superimposed into the photo (top left). We were studying to become primary and infants school teachers at the time. Some of us left for overseas, as soon as we had completed the obligatory three years and did not return to teaching small children. Our names were like our hairdoes, a signal of the times: Dianne, Sandy, Heather, Marnie, Julie, Daphne, Leonie, Jill and Anne. We lived in one wing of Smith House called Southall, which was actually a separate building joined to the rest for convenience sake. There is a history of the building in which we lived at: http://www.southall.org.au/index2.html
When I read this, I first learnt of a doctor who had shot himself accidentally under strange circumstances, when he answered the telephone. (See website to learn more). In hindsight, this sent a shiver up my spine when I thought back to the seance that we conducted using an ouiji board in, quite possibly, that very room. I would be interested to know what the name, or letter, was that we conjured up together that night with our hands on the pointer. Perhaps one of the "girls" in the group can remember? Despite the fact that I did not really want to teach children, and despite the strictures placed on us at Smith House, my memory of this time in this group is one that I treasure. We all seemed to complement one another with our different names and personalities, some "big" some meeker, like our hairdoes! But all contributing in some way to the group dynamics. I was shocked that first evening when Miss Dulcie Lindsay, the head warden, as she was called, in her mannish grey suits and black shoes, made her first speech and told us we would have to sign in and out by 9 pm every week night and 11 pm on weekends. She acknowledged that we would want to "try out our wings!" which made it worse, for I had had enough of this at home, and I wanted to take off. So we all remained immature and innocent for those two years; I remember thinking how "bad" the girls from Sydney were, always climbing in and out of windows and balconies after hours. but they knew how to look after themselves and never got caught! (Lynne says she used to let them in a lot as she had the room at the front of Smith House). As for us, we made our own fun together, and we had lots of it; who knows if it would have been better or not to have had more freedom?

The Site of the Delphic Oracle

Temple to Apollo
Miss Mackie, my Philosophy teacher at Armidale Teachers' College in 1961-62, enthralled me with stories of the Delphic Oracle, and of Plato and of Socrates; we studied parts of The Republic by Plato in detail, and I came to idealise these great thinkers of ancient times. A few years later, I revelled in the chance to visit these magical places that my teacher had opened up for me. This was in 1969, when I travelled from France to Greece with two girl-friends from Melbourne, whom I had met while working in the Australian Embassy in Paris.

Delphi 1969: Was it my imagination playing tricks on me, or was there indeed a breathtaking godliness about this place? The mountains towering about like guardians of a sacred place—orange, pink and stony, powerful and gleaming in the sun. The walks up to each of the ancient monuments inspiring sacred awe: starting below with the Gymnasium, The Marmaria Temple to Athena, protectress of the Apollo Temple further up, the one lovely in its rosy granite lightness, the other perfect in its simple lines. We searched for a site marking the oracle, a shrine or stone or something, but, despite its physical absence, you could believe that you heard its voice, saw its slippery serpent-like tail gleaming among the rocks and ferns and springs. The theatre steps spanned mightily around, and on high, the stadium!

That evening, suntanned, spirit-fresh and tired, we drove to the camp below and drank cognac, and talked of ancient gods, of beauty and of life.

The Sacred Way








MountParnassus








The Theatre








Marmaria Temple Ruin








I took these photos while clambering around on the mountainous terrain in 1969. I was soundly punished for my ecstasy by Apollo, guardian of the sanctuary- or was it by the jealous goddess?- with a bad case of sun-stroke. It was a small price to pay for such an experience that I have carried with me through the years. These photos were reproduced from slides that I had stored away for thirty-nine years.

The Ashmolean Museum, Oxford

My new-found American friend, Terri, from Seattle, took me to the Ashmolean Museum. We had a great time browsing around the streets, bookshops and monuments of Oxford during two or three days while our partners were busy at the Oxford Dysfluency Conference.

Terri was especially interested in ancient jewellery on display there.

Afterwards, we looked in art and book shops, and had lunch and a pint of beer in the quaint bar near the Bridge of Sighs to finish off a great day.

The Ashmolean Museum was Britain's first museum, established in Lambeth, London by John Tradescant in 1638. It was later inherited by Elias Ashmole, who bequeathed it to the University of Oxford, which led to the foundation of the Ashmolean Museum in 1683.

I was particularly interested in the ancient artefacts connected to the history and development of writing.

Old Babylonian letter, envelope & stylus, in
clay & bone, from 2nd millenium BC , Kish,
Central Iraq. Akkadian, written in cuneiform script





King List Prism: Sumerian circa 1800 BC,
from Larsa, Southern Irtaq, written in cuneifrom
script and conserved in baked clay







Milking Seal: Mesopotamia, the Uruk period.
circa 3500B C in magnesite & gilded silver












Humped-backed bull from early iron age
1350-1000. BC Fired clay. From Gilan
North-western Iran

Oxford Gown

The University Church

Saint Mary's Church and the museums and Sheldonian Theatre in the main street, together contribute to the Oxford skyline.

History of Science Museum

Conflict between town interests and those of the university has a long history in Oxford, and it still continues in some form up until the present time. The high walls built around the colleges are a symbol of this conflict, representing a need on the part of the colleges to protect themselves and their students from the world outside. In the past there were demonstrations and riots that led to deaths, but today the dissatisfactions are settled in court.

The Bodleian Library, from its beginnings in the fourteenth century, has become one of the great libraries of the world. It is also a copyright deposit library, able to claim any book published in the British Isles, and has continued to spread in size, taking over many adjacent ancient buildings.

The beautiful New College, Catholic, founded in the fifteenth century, so-called to distinguish it from another of the same name: Saint Mary's. The three statues on the facade at the front withstood the destruction of the Reformation years, probably because of their elevated position. We wandered around the cloisters, the chapel and the gardens for a long time, breathing in the history and atmosphere. The huge tree was part of one of the Harry Potter movies.

The magnificent walled gardens and the cloisters of New College


Exeter College: the facade & the hall


Hertford College

Memorial inside the Church to all on both sides who suffered during the religious wars

Clovelly

I live in a village-like place with an English name, a beach and cliff-side walks, that is situated at a distance of five kilometres from the central business district of Sydney. Our second closest beach is named Coogee, which is an Aboriginal word meaning "rotting seaweed," which rings true every now and then when the winds and tides dislodge the vegetation at the bottom of the sea just off the beach. The weather is warm to hot all year round, apart from a short winter period, during which the temperature can drop to 15 degrees, and only a few intrepid Aussies and some English backpackers take to the water.


Clovelly Beach


Desert Sea

The Spa Pool


Sniffing Out Balls

The Blue Ball Found Under The Rocks


Clovelly Sky Scape and Bay Water

Oxford Town

We sped in a First Great Western train towards Oxford via Slough and Reading, passing through picturesque countryside, woolly green hills dotted with slate-roofed red brick houses; no water restrictions here; verdant pastures and flat crops under a vaulted cloud-filled sky. So different from drought-ravaged Australia.

We stayed at St Catherine's student college and were surrounded by nature: geese, mallard ducks and water lilly ponds, which made up for the spartan lodgings. On our first day, I went with my American friend, Terri, on a walking tour of the city. The Italian tour guide showed us around some of the colleges, the Bodlerian Library, the Church and the quaint Turf Tavern where she was proud to point out the plaques celebrating Bob Hawke's drinking prowess, and Bill Clinton's experiments with drugs. She also showed us the cross in the main street marking the spot where martyrs were burnt at the stake during the Reformation.

Terri and I were inspired to return and explore some more the next day, especially the New College and the Ashmolean Museum.

In Australia, buildings that are 200 years' old are considered ancient; even The New College here is from the fourteenth century!

The hanging baskets of flowers and the English-style gardens in the college grounds are indescribably beautiful. And even the fat bumblebees here are different from bees back home!

The British Museum

I started off in the Egyptian part of the Museum, which houses the largest ancient Egyptian collection outside Cairo, and found myself before the Rosetta Stone. The Rosetta Stone is from the Ptolemaic Period, 196 BC. It was discovered in 1799 at Rashid (Rosetta), a harbour on the Mediterranean coast in Egypt renamed by the French during Napoleon Bonaparte's campaign in Egypt. It had been moved there in the fifteenth century to be reused as part of a fortress, after Christianity spread to Egypt. It entered the British Museum in 1802 as part of the Treaty of Alexandria The text of the Rosetta Stone is a decree from Ptolemy V describing the repealing of various taxes and instructions to erect statues in temples. It contains the same text in 2 Egyptian languages and also in classical Greek. In this way, experts were able to decode the ancient Egyptian language.


This lion statue in the central courtyard of the Museum once sat at the top of a building and weighs 7 tons. It once had a much fiercer look, with shining jewelled eyes and a fuller jaw. Its softer look appealed to me and reminded me of the lion in the Wizard of Oz.



This two-handled amphora decorated with black figures was made by the celebrated Athenian vase-producer Execias circa 540 BC. It depicts the death of the Amazon Queen, Penthesileia at the hands of the Greek hero, Achilles during the Trojan War. The tragedy of the scene, which represents the couple's falling in love at the very moment of Penthesileia's death, is captured skillfully by the artist.


The Leyly sculpture on the left is of Venus (Aphrodite) from the 2nd century AD, and shows the Goddess surprised by a mortal while bathing.




From 1500-1070 BC, (Early 18th Dynasty-New Kingdom) royal figures were no longer buried in pyramids. This is of a queen whose mummified body is inside the rock-cut tomb with the statue on the top. They were found in the Valley of Kings, known as "Set Maat": Place of Truth.

Preserved by the desert in a shallow grave








The Gneiss Sphinx is from the Twelfth Dynasty of Ammenemes IV, 1795 BC. The face was reworked during the Roman period.


From the area of the current Iraq, this ancient statue in blue and gold of a goat eating leaves, is one of my favourite pieces from the Museum.








Yamantaka Vajrabhairava is a fierce Buddhist deity for overcoming evil and death. He is a frightening manifestation of Manjusri, the Bodhisattva of Knowledge Tsong Khapa (1357-1419), he became the tutelary deity of the Dalai Lamas and of the dGelugs Pa schools of Tibetan Buddhism. Here he is shown embracing Vajravarahi, his wisdom partner, representing the spiritual passion for Enlightenment. It dates from the reign of the Chinese Emperor Jiaqing (1796-1820).

A Different Culture

Londinium, it was called by the Romans! What a city it has become!

So much to see and to do! Wonderful theatre, pubs, art galleries, museums, monuments, and, of course, shops and markets.

Despite the relative lack of sunny skies (yesterday was warm and sunny, and people lay on every patch of grass, many of the men shirtless, like seals on rocks), I could easily live in this place for a year or two. Like Paris, it is the perfect place for the art of "flâner": to wander the streets and to discover something serendipitous round every corner. And you've also got the big buses and the underground to take you all over the place.

Flying over London at 7 am in fine weather was breathtaking. The first landmark that was pointed out to me on the edge of the Thames was "The London Eye," as it has become known: the highest ferris wheel in the world! Then I saw the Tower Bridge and felt like I was really in London. Londoners believe it to be the most famous bridge in the world, and yet most outsiders don't even know its name: "Isn't it London Bridge?" they ask.

While waiting to get on the underground, who should come along and get in the same carriage, but Ann Packman, Mark's colleague, who is attending the Oxford Dysfluency Convention with him. Then the hard part began; we had to take the subway during peak hour from Heathrow Airport to Russell Square Station, about 2 dozen stops further on. We are staying for two nights at the Russell Hotel, oppposite the Russell Park with its oak tree planted in memory of the people affected by the terrorist attacks on the transport system in 2005. It's a fancy looking hotel with chandeliers and floral carpets in the Victorian style. comfortable but fairly basic inside the rooms.

Despite our best-laid travel plans having been initially upset by the Qantas engineers' "requirements"—we were bused to the Darling Harbour Ibis Hotel to spend our first night, instead of in Singapore—we managed to grab six hours' horizontal time at the Traders' Hotel once we got to Singapore, before getting on the Qantas flight for London at 2 am the next morning.

I have so far seen the Rosetta Stone at the British Museum (not far from the hotel), and have hopped on a tourist bus to see Fleet Street, St Paul's Cathedral and the Tower Bridge, as well as taking a ferry under six of the bridges across the Thames ,and walking, walking, walking, getting lost in Covent Gardens and walking again for hours. The French call it

What strikes me is how different this culture is from our Australian one. I have become obsessed with the quaint place names and have started memorising some of them: The Elephant and Castle, Ye Olde Cock Tavern, The Slug and Lettuce, Shoe Lane, Fetter Lane, the Wig and Pen Restaurant, site of the Devil Tavern, and Toffee Nose of Covent Gardens.

A Very Special Cat

Jackie Chan was not remarkable in terms of his looks, although he was fine for a tabby with a pure white breast and two white hind legs, and dark tiger stripes on a brown-and-grey background. What was unusual about him, was the fact that he chose to move into a house with two boisterous cattle dog pups already ensconced there.

Andrei and Kate heard him crying outside one night and gave him sustenance, thinking that he would then move on. Instead, he decided he was part of the young newly established family of four. Not only that, but he quickly started to join in the rough and tumble games of the two puppies and proved himself well able to match them in their antics. He did kung-fu moves and quickly established his notoriety as a brave fighter, fleet of foot and capable of great courage. When he wasn't eating chicken cooked especially for him by the master of the house, or playing with the two dogs, he sat on a table or chair on the verandah which was where the dogs lived most of the day.

In the evenings when the two pups were allowed outside in the park for a run, he got up and joined in, racing after them hell-for-leather around the outskirts of the square. Lee, who has a gift for imaginative names, having called her son after a character in War and Peace, took one look at the cat, and from then on he was known as "Jackie Chan."

Jackie Chan lived happily there for five months with the growing family (Kate was by now pregnant). When they decided to move back to Sydney and await the birth of their child, they were worried about uprooting Jackie Chan from his environment and decided to have him checked for a micro-tag. Surprisingly, they were able to contact his original owners who had lost him two years ago!

There was much weeping of joy and of sadness, hugging of humans and of feline, as owners and cat were reunited and torn apart respectively. His owners, who were not unlike Kate and Andrei, informed them that he had lived with a dog before and that his real name was "Stewart".

Early Stuttering Treatments

Did you know that stuttering is a neurological/motor problem, and is not caused, nor usually triggered, by psychological issues? Despite years of research, the actual causes remain a mystery, however it tends to run in families, and more boys are afflicted than girls.

For many years stuttering was treated as an emotional disorder, however, it is now known that the affliction gives rise to emotional disorders, such as social anxiety, in many sufferers, rather than having a causal relationship with it. Today, best practice treatments have been developed that appear to eradicate stuttered speech in young children. Moreover, these treatments are conceptually simple, and based on behavioral premises. Long-distance treatments administered over the telephone have even been successful for remotely situated children. Preschool-age children love to engage in the activities that have been developed, most of which can ultimately be administered by parents.

About 5% of children will start to stutter around the ages of three or four. It tends to coincide with the beginning of sentence formation and the need for prosody. However, some will recover spontaneously—more girls than boys—usually soon after onset.

When I went to school in the fifties and sixties, there was always at least one child who stuttered in most schools. Today, children who stutter badly are very rare in this country, thanks to the team at the University of Sydney. The Australian Stuttering Research Centre, based at Cumberland College, is a world leader in the field of evidence-based treatments for stuttering.

At the ASRC, the Lidcombe Method is the favoured approach to treating children who stutter, while adolescents and adults follow what is called the Camperdown Program. The older the client, the more likely that their stuttering has become intransigent, requiring them to follow a more control-based approach, called Prolonged Speech.

The main message to parents of children who stutter is to seek out a qualified speech pathologist and get advice on best practices.

Attachment Parenting Versus Controlled Crying

There is still a debate going on today regarding the relative merits of the two approaches, "Controlled Crying" or "Attachment Parenting" when it comes to nurturing a newborn or a young infant. It seems to me that the only benefit of allowing a very young child to cry for any length of time when stressed and wanting comfort, would be for the parent or parents' sake. Small babies have immature sleep patterns, which puts a great deal of stress on parents, through lack of sleep. However, most experts today would probably discourage the use of the controlled crying approach (or "controlled comfort" as some like to call it) for newborn or for very young babies.

During the eighties, when I had my two children, I followed what was then called "The Continuum Concept," based on Jean Liedloff’s best-selling book. This challenged “normal” western nurturing concepts of separation between infant and principal carers, and was inspired by the author’s experiences while living in the South American jungles with the Yequana Indians.

It promoted a child-centred, love-based policy of child-rearing. This involved, for me, not using a pram, but placing the baby in a sling and allowing total access to the mother for feeding and for comfort. I took my baby into bed with me for breast-feeding when I was tired, and often slept in the one bed with baby and husband. Both children were raised in this way, and they are warm, loving adults, who benefited from this close bonding. As a result, they are now able to pass on this warmth and love to their own children.

Of course there are disadvantages of this approach. It is tiring for a breastfeeding mother in a nuclear family situation to carry a child n a papoose without other carers to share in the task, as in extended families. However, the advantages of rearing a happy confident child far outweigh the disadvantages.

The main worry with the other approach is that a child may end up falling asleep through exhaustion and after having "given up", and the main lesson learnt will be that its needs for emotional warmth and for contact are not to be met.

New Kadampa Tradition of (Tibetan) Buddhism

Last year I attended a Convention in Singapore for followers of the New Kadampa Tradition of Buddhism, introduced to the West by Geshe Kelsang Gyatso in 1977. He now resides at the mother centre in the UK. These festivals are annual events, and I was a novice, trying to understand in more depth what this form of Buddhism is all about. The master, in this case Geshe-la, teaches highest meditation practices and gives empowerments, which must be handed down in a "pure" state by the teachers of the tradition. The title of "Geshe" means "Spiritual Friend" and he is known as "Geshe-la" by his followers.

Monks and nuns of this tradition devote their whole lives to meditation and sacrifice to the spiritual needs of their followers.

More than 3,000 people from all over the world attended the Singapore convention. What struck me was how many people are drawn to this tradition through a need for spirituality in our materialistic western societies.

"Buddha" means "The Awakened One," one who has arisen from the sleep of ignorance into enlightenment. The original Buddha was Shakyamuni, born as a royal prince, Prince Siddhartha, in 624 BC in Lumbini, originally in northern India, but now part of Nepal. He devoted his life to the pursuit of enlightenment for the sake of all, and relinquished his attachments to worldly riches.

Kadampa Buddhism referred originally to a Mahayana Buddhist school founded by the great Indian Master Atisha (AD 982-1054). Followers of this tradition were known as "Old Kadampas" and those who came after Je Tsongkhapa in Tibet (AD 1357-1419) have been known as "New Kadampas."

What drew me towards Buddhism, was the offer of a practical method for attaining inner peace, even within the walls of our urban jungles. I started off by attending Saturday morning "drop-in" sessions at Bondi Beach Pavilion, the seagulls, waves and murmurs from beach-goers a constant buzz in the background. I listened to the practical advice offered by the young monk and followed the simple but powerful meditation directions along with the rest of the class. It was good value for $14. My mood changed progressively over time from one of frustration at the obstacles life was throwing up, to one of peaceful acceptance that I could meet whatever came my way. The support of the group helped in an inexplicable way, especially for going deeply into that quiet centre within yourself during meditation.

I later on progressed to the more intensive Wednesday evening classes at the main centre (not quite a "temple" as yet) in a terrace house in Bondi Junction.

The main message that seemed to help me and others is the very simple one, that life presumes problems, i.e. suffering is an inevitable part of being alive, and it is your attitude towards this that can make the difference. In addition we were opened up to the possibility that anger may not be the most helpful way of responding to difficult situations and to solving problems The other important message was to do with unhealthy attachment that holds many people in its thrall, and if challenged appropriately, may be the key to freedom from suffering. But the overriding principle lessons that came out of these sessions, was that of the importance of developing a good heart and the realisation that everything depends upon the mind.

The Venerable Geshe Kelsang Gyatso resides at the Manjushri Centre near the Lakes District in the UK and has taught and written books on Buddhism there for the last 30 years. There are now over a thousand centres throughout the world that follow the Kadampa tradition.

There are four main schools of Tibetan Buddhism: Nyingmapa (The Ancient Way); Kagyupa (The Oral Lineage); Sakyapa (The scholarly tradition) ;and Gelugpa (Way of Virtue). The latter had its birth in the 14th and 15th centuries and is linked to a Kadampa tradition and to Je Tsongkhapa. The four main traditions of Tibetan Buddhism have always lived with conflicts and contradictions, but what connects them despite their differences are certain spiritual aspects, some of which have been mentioned above.

Whereas all other virtues are like plantain trees,
In that they are exhausted once they bear fruit,
The enduring celestial tree of bodhichitta
Is not exhausted but increases by bearing fruit.

From Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life
by Shantideva