CHAPTER 1
The Time is Here Now
I can hear the question now, the very same question that I have asked myself over many decades. What can I possibly do to change the dysfunction in this world? This is far bigger than me. What difference could I possibly make? I am only one person. I believe the answer to these questions lies in the expansion of human consciousness. I believe that we are at the dawn of an awakening, an evolution in human consciousness. It simply has to be. The time is here right now.
Let me clarify. In this evolution of human consciousness, our history and the lessons from our past will be, and are, a part of our conscious evolution. Those experiences occurred as a part of our journey. Our greatest lessons come at times of our greatest pain. I think we have all experienced that horrible moment when we get caught doing something we should not be doing, dreaded the consequences only to find later that we learned one of our biggest lessons from the experience. Or perhaps it was some tragedy in our lives that changed us at a deep level. Some of the horrific experiences that we see daily are happening to get our attention. We can no longer hide. The more seemingly painful the experience, the greater the lesson and the greater the opportunity for growth.
The pain that our planet and our people are currently experiencing presents a perfect platform for change.
But who is going to lead the change and how do we learn our lessons? I for one was becoming extremely impatient about the arrival of our saviour, whoever or whatever that saviour may be.
While writing this book Australia experienced the tragic death of a young test cricketer Phillip Hughes. Hughes was just short of his twenty-sixth birthday when he was struck by a cricket ball on the back of the neck, just below the lip of his protective helmet, and died on the playing surface at the iconic Sydney Cricket Ground during a first class cricket match in November 2014.
Phil Hughes was a talented country lad who had a dream to represent his country. He left his small hometown of Macksville in northern New South Wales, a short journey south by car from where I am writing this book, and ventured to the big city of Sydney to pursue his dream. He represented his country at both limited overs and test level, all in his early twenties, before falling from favour and struggling with his game and his confidence.
I never met Phillip Hughes. I worked in Macksville for a period as the HR Executive for a company that employed his older brother Jason. I imagine that Phillip had the very same passionate approach to life that I observed in the then nineteen-year-old Jason when we were discussing his intention to follow his younger brother to Sydney to pursue his own sporting interests.
The tragic passing of Phillip Hughes on November 27, 2014 had a profound affect on me personally and on the wider Australian community. His funeral was televised live on all channels, something I could not recall happening since the 9/11 tragedy. I pondered how it was possible that his death could have such an impact on so many people regardless of whether they followed cricket, or any sport for that matter. Was it the loss of such a young man in his prime of life? Sadly that happens all too often. Was it the untold story and potential this young man still had to give on the big stage? But then many talented young stars have passed before without such fanfare.
The closest events with such personal impact on me were the death of Nelson Mandela, the tragic passing of Princess Dianna Spencer, the Princess of Wales in 1997 and the senseless murder of founding Beatle John Lennon in 1980. What is it with these particular individuals that evoked such empathy and connection and how does the tragic death of Phillip Hughes even remotely compare with these other iconic legends? Each has special talents in his or her own right, but what is it exactly that was resonating with me? The traits that sprang to mind were vulnerability, transparency and authenticity – the ability to acknowledge personal fear and failings but do it anyway, regardless of what others may think.
My own life has been substantially impacted by the life of former Beatle, John Lennon. My very first record, a 45-rpm single, was the double sided 'Day Tripper' and 'We Can Work it out' from 1966. I saved my pocket money for weeks to get that record. Through the evolution of the Beatles, and Lennon's personal battle with drugs and the meaning of his life, I followed his ongoing confrontation with the establishment in the pursuit for world peace, his subsequent withdrawal from the music industry limelight and his amazing rebirth as an artist and human being, abruptly ended by his senseless shooting in 1980. We all witnessed publicly his failings and his sensitivities. He was always authentic. He put himself up for ridicule. The media taunted him and he let go of any attachment to his popularity and image as a Beatle to express his personal pain and beliefs on world peace. Imagine! We all thought he was mad. Looking back now he seemed to be one of the only sane humans on the planet. Ultimately Lennon was just a man. I recall a videoed conversation of him with an avid fan and autograph hunter. Lennon was puzzled by why the fan wanted his signature. What was so important about a signature? He said something along the lines of 'the significance is in the music and the words of the song not in me'. He made some profound statements and wrote insightful lyrics that continue to hold relevance for us all.
The life of Princess Dianna had a similar theme, authentic and sensitive. Not perfect by any means but real and caring beyond her self. Born and married into royalty we saw her imperfections in public and she took the ultimate risk and opened her heart to us all. We saw the human side of the royals. They are just imperfect people like the rest of us! I believe witnessing the flawed side of Princess Dianna created an avenue for connection with the rest of us. We all know our own vulnerabilities and can relate to that in one another. Dianna Spencer showed us that she was just a woman after all.
Mandela carried the same remarkable character qualities. A life typified by hope and passion mixed with those special imperfections that gave him a sense of reality. Nelson Mandela was no saint. Nelson Mandela was passionate and authentic. It is easy to forget that he was a young activist before he went to...
