Tuesday, December 31, 2013




There is nothing perfect
in duality unless you accept
'Perfection includes Imperfection'.

Don't do anything
you have to say
'sorry' for
unless you want to
live a sorrowful life.

leads to

I don't expect anybody who comes to see me to be on time. That way I am not disappointed.I have compassion for the visitor when he is told, "It's too late, you missed the bus."

All paths
lead to home.
Pick one.

You may forget the Mantra
for a few minutes
but the Mantra
doesn't forget you.

As you
see me

You cannot
have a country
without people.
It reverts back
to land.

The imaginary line
has been erased.

How do you
change the
It isn't possible.
That is the
for everyone.
Go ahead,
try and change it.
I wish you well!
I will benefit from it.

If it's not fact
I'm f*&*ed!
Either way I win.

Everyone loves attention. Me too!
I AM the supreme attention whore.
But let me tell you this,
too much of it is not good
as you will forget how
to give it to yourself.

He's not coherent because
his mind is overheated.
Cool the mind & rearrange
its molecular structure.

Even the commander
on the battlefield
takes orders.
I take orders
from no one.
End of story.

If you want to know
what the planets are doing,
don't look to the heavens,
look to its affect on Earth.
Whatever happens down here
is a reflection of
what's happening up there.

No one actually lives
'on' a planet.
The planets exist
within consciousness &
affect consciousness.
You have access
to consciousness.

Even in deep sleep
something has to stay awake
in order to tell you,
you are asleep.
The first thing it tells you
is that you are asleep.
The second thing it tells you
is what woke you up.
The third thing it tells you
is I love you.

Peoples' love
comes and goes
but their fear
remains constant.

Monday, December 30, 2013



The reason people
cry at funerals
is they know
they're next.

The Guru has one medicine.
When you're sick, He will
give you a good dose of it;

Reality gets rid
of your ideas of it.

It's interesting how,
over the years,
one knows less & less;
which is a good thing.

A man with no attachments can't die.
When a man with great attachments
is separated from them;
it's called death.

When you lose something in life you feel it.
When you lose everything in 'one-fell-swoop'
the gut wrenching pain will kill you.

The less you have
the less you have
to lose = less suffering.

What you take for granted
becomes known when
it's taken away.

Whatever you
take for granted
drains your fortunes.

"A fool & his money are soon parted.", said George.
"Hey dad, can I have some money?"
"I'm as free of money as a frog is of feathers,"
"Hey dad, frogs don't have feathers."
"Right lad!"

One has a relationship
with the Mantra &
it gives birth
to what it contains.

I let my insanity flow
with no impedance.

A lot of peoples' 'supposes'
turn into 'disappointments'.

There is no karma
in acts of kindness.

If the difference
between life & death
is $100, then life
isn't worth living.


The next day, being Saturday, I finished mi work at 12 and by 1 O'Clock
I was showered and in mi good town gear waiting in Burts' old, blue comby Volkswagen for his missus to come out.
"They're all the bloody same, women. All morning she's had to get ready and she's still not here! Go and tell her, Burt said to git a move on or I'll leave her at home!"
I ran across to the kitchen where Kay was,
"Burt says he's gonna leave ya here if ya don't git'a move on, Mrs, Booth."
"Go and tell Burt, I'm on my way." She said.
"She's on her way.", I said to Burt as I climbed into the Comby.
In a few minutes old Kay got in the front of the Comby and said,
"OK! What ya waiting for Burt. I thought ya were in a hurry?"
"Strueth woman, what ya got all that paint and powder on ya face for? You'll scare the Bungs on Chamens Corner half to death when they see you!"
"Very funny Burt. Are you going to drive or are we going to bake ourselves in the Van?"
Old Burt started the Comby and we drove down the track, past the dam and out onto the dirt road to Lake Cargelligo. Burts' Comby rattled like hell on the rough dirt road and before long, mi good white shirt was covered in red dust. I didn't feel to bad about it because Kays' white hat with the frill of white lace on it was just the same color as my shirt.
It was exactly 12 miles to Lake Cargelligo from Burts' front gate to the strip of bitumen road, just out of town. It was a relief when the Comby hit the bitumen because the dust stopped coming through the door hinges and the rattles went almost silent. (Lake Cargelligo was like most other Bush towns except that it had a big lake at the end of the street. There was no barrier up so if one was too drunk, they'd end up in the lake and over the years quite a few did.)
There was a few houses on the left and right-hand side of the road as we made our way to the main street. A large new-looking house on the right was the Police Station and next to that was the towns' jail which as all run by Sargent Montgomery. As we drove past the jail to the first intersection, Burt turned right, down the main street. He drove to the end of the street, which was only about 150 yards long, turned the old Comby around before we got too close to the lake and then headed back up the other side of the street to angle park, nose into the curb.
He turned to Kay and said, "Lake Cargelligo, Missus. Don’t spend too much 'cause it's hard to make. I'm off to the pub to cash a cheque so I can pay him his wages. Ya can show him the Main street if ya like. I'll meet ya here in 10 minutes Missus."
It was a really hot day so I got out of Burts' Comby as soon as I could. I'd put too much Brylcream on mi hair and it was slowly running down the back of mi neck.
"Is mi shirt dirty?", I said to Kay.
"Dirty's not the word for it! It's more like muddy. You've got too much hair oil on and it's run all down ya back. Give me ya hanky and I'll clean it up for ya."
"Thanks Mrs. Booth. I'll know not to put so much on next time."
Old Kay was not a bad old sort at times. She was probably stuck with Burt herself, 'cause no one got a divorce in the Bush in those days.
"Let's take a walk up the Main street, Richard.", she said.
"Are there anymore streets?"
"No, Lake Cargelligo isn't a real big place. Theres' only one main street and where we stooped at the end of the intersection is where the shops stop, so it's about one short block long."
We walked up the street a few yards from the pub where we'd parked and outside of the Stock & Station Agents, she spoke to a young lad who looked about 19 years old.
"Hello Robbie.", she said.
"G'day Mrs. Booth. In town shopping are ya?"
"Just came in for a few supplies. This is Richard. He's working at our place."
"G'day mate. My name's Robbie Townsend. What's yours?"
"Richard Swindells, but some people call me 'Yorky'."
"Ya from Yorkshire are ya?"
"Yes,", I said.
"Pleased to meet ya mate.", he said, as we shook hands.
"I'm going into Chamens for some things. Ya can hang out here with Robbie, if ya like Richard."
"Alright.", I said, as she walked off.
"How long ya been out at old Burts' place.", He said, with a smile.
"Just a month now."
"Ya just got here from England, mate?"
"Yeh, I've been here for about 6 weeks now."
"D'ya like it out at old Burts' place?"
"No!", I said. "I think he's a mean old bastard!"
Robbie had a real good laugh at this statement.
"Ya not the first one to say that mate. Old Burt's gone through a few Pommies in his his day."
"What d'ya mean?"
"How much does he pay ya a week, Yorky?"
"Twelve pounds a month, plus tucker.", I said.
"Jesus! That's less than 3 quid a week clear!"
"Where do you work, Robbie?'
"This place, mate. The Stock & Station Agents. Mi old man owns it so I work for him."
"How much a week do you make, Robbie?"
"Fifteen quid a week mate and I pay a couple of quid to mi mum for tucker. We'll have to find you another job, Yorky. No one stays with old Burt too long, I've seen heaps of Pommies come and go through Burts' place, If ya still in town tonight, I'll introduce ya to Surry."
"Who's Surry?"
"He's a Pommy, same as you mate. He's been here a couple of years now. He got sent to Burts' place, just like you. He lasted the longest so far. I think he worked for old Burt for about 9 months, mate."
"Where's he working now?"
"Oh he's on another property about 20 miles out. I think he's sharecropping now. He should make a few quid this year but he'll probably drink it all."
"Does he drink much?"
"He holds the record at the Australian Hotel for drinkin' a yard of beer. Here's old Kay coming back now. I'll see ya later Yorky. I'm gonna' shoot through before she gets here."
Robbie took off back inside his Dads' Agency just as old Kay walked up.
"How did you like Robbie?", she asked.
"He seems like a good bloke but I don't know him very well."
"I've known Robbie since he was a little boy. He was born in Lake Cargelligo. I've got some more shopping to do so you'd might as well look around the town, if you want. The van will be parked here all day and we'll probably stay in town tonight till about 10."
"OK, I'll see ya later.", I said as I waked off down the street.
Going down towards the Lake was a pub. (This pub was known to everyone as 'Twitchys'.) Past Twitchys' place was a couple of small shops, then a hairdressers for women. The next shop was Chamens Garage. After Chamens was a couple of houses, then nothing at all but dry, flat ground. Sometimes the lake used to flood in wet weather right up to the Bitumen at the streets end. Across the other side of the street was a tool shop, a few more houses and another pub called The Australian Hotel. Next to that was a dirt street, then came Ray Orrs Barber Shop. The Barbers shop was of great interest to me because in the window there was fishing rods, knives and guns. I decided to go into Orrs shop and inquire about a rifle. Ray Orr was cutting a customers hair when I entered the small, but compact, shop. It was a typical Bush barbers shop. There was just about everything one could think of hanging of hanging on the walls or stacked in he corner.
"G'day." He said, as I entered the shop. "Something I can get ya?"
"No thanks, just browsing around."
"Where are ya from mate?", he asked as I walked around.
"I'm working at Burt Booths place."
"Ah, ya must be Burts' new Pommy are ya?"
"I guess so."
"Old Burt's due in here today sometime. He gets his hair cut once a month, regular as clockwork."
"How much are the .22s'?"
"Oh they start at 8 pounds.", he said, as he handed me a rifle. "She's a single-shot Anshultz. Just got it in last week."
"Burt won't let me have a rifle on his place, but as soon as I get another job I'll come in and buy one off ya."
"No worries mate. Make ya self at home. I can even give ya a haircut, if ya want one."
"Maybe next time.", I said, as I looked around his shop.
When I was through looking, I said "Thanks a lot."
"No worries mate. Anything I can do for ya, let me know."

Next to the Barbers was a Dry Cleaners which was also owned by Ray Orr. Next to that was Rodds Clothes shop. Then came a Café, another Stock Agents called Dalgerys and then The Commonwealth Bank.
Now I was back at the intersection where we'd turned into the main street. Across the street, on the same side, was a Picture House and a Coffee Bar belonging to old Theo. There were a couple of vacant blocks, then another pub called Gilltraps. Next to Gilltraps Hotel was a residential street and way up the Main Street was another Garage. (Oh, the Post Office was next to Twitchys' Pub and, as far as I can remember, that was about it except for Chamens Store on the opposite side of the street. Oh yeh, there was also one more Bank next to Chamens.)
Lake Cargelligo was quite a small place in 1964. Once I'd made mi rounds of the Main Street there was nothing else to do but hang out under a shady tree, down by the Lake.

The most common form of entertainment at Lake Cargelligo was, of course, the 3 Hotels. The double doors were wide open when I passed by and I could see that the place was packed with Cockies and workers. All were drinking and most were reading the race page or listening to the Saturday afternoon races.

Later on that evening I met Surry who was sat on the Hotel steps, drinking with Robbie Townsend.
"G'day. This is mi mate Surry that I was telling ya about."
"Hello.", I said, as I leaned over to shake his hand.
"This is Yorky, Surry. He'ls out slaving at old Burts' place."
"G'day Yorky. Surry's the name and Surry's where I'm from. So ya out at old Burts' property are ya?"
"Does the old Bastard feed ya parrots and kangaroo steaks?"
"How d'ya know""
Robbie and Surry had a good laugh at my expense.
"'Cause the old Bastard fed me the same!" said Surry. "Tll I wised up a bit. Just refuse to eat those fuckin' parrots, mate. You'll break ya teeth on those tough bastards!"
"He said everyone eats roos and parrots in the Bush.", I said.
"Then he's a fuckin' liar. He's a miserable old bastard is Burt and his brother Dick is worse! Dick is so tight he doesn't eat strawberry jam."
"Why? Is it expensive in Australia?"
They both laughed out loud.
"No mate, ya silly pommy bastard! He doesn't eat strawberry jam 'cause he's too tight to pass the seeds!"
"Now that's fucking tight!", said Robbie and they had another good laugh.
"Old Kay's not a bad sort though.", said Surry. "There's a young Sheila around here the doctors said would never walk again, on account of an accident, but old Kay worked on her legs for one year and now she can walk again. She's pretty good at that therapeutic massage. I hurt mi back one day out at Burts' place. I fell off the Combine with a 180 pound wheat bag on mi back and I couldn't hardly move and she fixed it up inside a week."
Surry told me a lot of stories about Burt, most of them bad. By the time I left them I was now more determined to get off his place and work somewhere else.
As I was leaving, he called out to me.
"Good luck mate, you're gonna need it!", then laughed his head off again.

After I left Surry and Robbie on the Hotel steps, I ran into Burt and Kay up the street aways.
"How d'ya like the town?", said Burt.
"It's not real big but I've met a few people already."
"Ya won't have to get to know people here. They'll all get to know you."
"Grand Streuth!, said Burt. "There's a fight! Let's go and see."
Across the street on Chamens corner was a crowd of black people rolling around the ground in rags, as pissed as parrots.
"Who are those blokes, Burt?", I said.
"They're all Abos , mate. It's Saturday night and they're full of Plonk. We'll get to see a real good show now. That is, till old Sargent Montgomery arrives."
"I thought Aborigines carried spears and boomerangs?"
"Not these blokes. These bastards are half white. All they carry is a bottle of Plonk.", he said, as I followed him up to the opposite corner.
"What's Plonk?"
"Plonk's a cheap brown Muscat wine. It costs 4 bob for a half-gallon flagon. They go crazy with a gut full a' Plonk in 'em. Here we go mate, she's on now!"
I felt really compassionate towards the Aboringines as they called each other 'black bastards' and rolled around on the street corner drinking and fighting with each other. Their clothes were old, dirty and tattered. One had a shirt with a sleeve torn off and another had on a pair of odd shoes with no socks. Another had on a pair of trousers with holes in the knees. Another had no shirt at all. Even the women were getting into the fight now and they could curse and swear better than the men. Some of the Abo women were twice as big as their men and they could fight better as well.
The fight lasted for about 10 minutes until Sargent Montgomery arrived in his blue Bullwagon with a young constable.
"Alright you black bastards!", said the Sargent. "In the wagon ya go! Ya can sober up and cool off in the cell for the evening."
The Sarg and his Constable grabbed the drunk Abos by anything they could and literally threw them in the back of the Bullwagon. He left the women and took all the men up the street to the local jail.
"Ah well, that's the excitement over Saturday night.", said Burt.
"What will happen to them now?", I asked.
"They'll sleep on the concrete floor for the night and in the morning the old Sarg will make 'em weed his garden 'cause they'll have no money for the fine. The old Sarg has the best-kept garden in Lake Cargelligo. He knows all those Bungs by their first names by now and by the time Sunday night comes, they'll all be back in jail again."
"Why doesn't someone help them?"
"Can't help the bastards, mate. They're all past helping. Everyone of 'em is an alcoholic. They spend every bit of their money on Plonk and they won't work again till there's no money left. Even then, they won't work until they're hungry."
That, unfortunately, was my first introduction to the Australian Aborigines. Before we went back out to the Bush, one of 'em bit me for 2 bob and I couldn't refuse him, although I knew he would spend it on Plonk.
That night, I lay on mi bed thinking about the Aborigines. It made my heart incredibly sad to see what a tragic state they were in. Most people, in the Bush, saw them as not much better than dogs.

Sunday, December 29, 2013


Peter Smith came back out to old Burts' place to see me. He pulled up in Burts' yard one evening and jumped out of his blue Ute.
"G'day Yorky.", he said, as he walked around the back of the Ute.
"G'day Peter. How're you going?"
"Good mate. I brought ya something."
He leaned over the side of the Ute and pulled out a large wheat bag that was tied with a lump of bailing twine.
"What's in the bag Peter?"
"Open her up and have a 'butchers' mate, but be clever."
He handed me the large sack and immediately whatever was inside started to move around.
"What's inside Peter?"
"Open the bastard up mate, if ya wanna know."
I undid the bow which kept the bag shut tight and when I peered down inside it, I saw a young joey kangaroo.
"It's a joey Pete!"
"Yeh mate. I thought ya might like it. It'll be a bit of company for ya. Ya just have to feed it a bottle of boiled milk morning and night but don't be surprised if it dies on ya 'cause they're a bit hard to raise most times."
"Where am I gonna put it?"
"Come on inside ya hut. I'll show ya how to do it mate."
When we got inside the tin hut, Peter opened the bag and stuck his hand inside and then pulled the young joey out of the bag by its' tail. It was quite scared of being out in the light so it started to kick and make a clicking sound.
"Stick him up ya jumper mate. He'll quieten down then."
The young joey crawled up under mi jumper, back into the dark and was quiet as a mouse again, once he made himself comfortable under mi armpit.
"Ya leave the top of the bag tied like this mate, then ya hang it on a nail. This one over here will do. Next, ya cut a slit along the bag, like so. Then it resembles its mothers' pouch. That's it. That'll do mate."
"How do I feed it Peter?"
"Ya git old Kay to boil up a small amount of milk and then ya put it in a bottle and ya put a small amount of burnt cinder powder in it. That'll stop him from getting the scowers. Ya put the rubber teet on the end and the first couple of times you'll have to hold him and force it in his mouth but as soon as he knows the bottle's full of warm milk he'll hold the bottle himself with his hands and feed himself. We'll go over and see old Kay. She used to have a pet too but it got too big and cranky so she let him go. She'll be glad to give ya a hand looking after it. It'll remind her of the time she got her first pet roo, mate.", he said, with a knowing, cheeky wink.
Peter was no mug. When Kay Booth saw the joey she was more than happy to help so old Burt couldn't say a word about it. Kay proceeded to tell us all about her pet roo which took about half an hour and when Peter and I got back to mi shed he said,
"I told ya sport. She's on our side now. Better to have old Kay as a friend. It'll make ya life a bit easier out here. How's things going anyway, Yorky?"
I told Peter about old Burt doing his nut and chasing me with the axe.
"Gawd Streuth mate! We've gotta git ya out of this place while ya still in one piece! I've got a place in mind for ya to go but the bloke is still waiting for a contract to come through and as soon as it does, ya outa' here. I'd take ya back to my place tonight but there's no room and there's no work so I can't do that. Ya think ya can hang on at this place for a while longer?"
"Yeh, I'll be alright. He's been a bit better since he chased me with the axe but I don't like old Burt. He's as miserable as chickenshit."
"Ya not wrong there mate and you're not the only one who thinks that. Anyway mate, I'll be back to see ya again soon so look after ya self Yorky and don't let the bastard git ya down, alright?"
"Alright mate. Thanks for the joey and thanks for looking out for me."
"No worries mate. I'd do the same for a white feller."
"Oh that's a good joke Peter. I'll save that one for old Burt one day."
After Peter left, Mrs. Booth came over with a bottle of milk with a lambs teet on the end of it.
"Do you want to see if he's hungry Richard?"
"Yeh, let's try him. They shot his mother along with the rest of the mob so he's probably a bit hungry now and he won't feel so frightened once he gets some warm milk into him."
The young joey kicked and scratched as he tried to get away from me when I took him out of his new pouch.
"Hold him firm while I get the teet in his mouth.", said Kay.
Once the joey tasted the warm cows milk, he started to settle down until he had finished three-quarters of the bottle. Then he pissed on mi trousers and started to struggle again so I put him back in the old wheat-bag pouch. As soon as he saw the tear across the front of the bag he hopped in headfirst and rolled over on his back then curled himself into a tight ball and went to sleep.
After a week or so, joey could get out of the bag himself. He could sit right up on his back legs and tail. Already he had learned to hold the bottle himself. He looked so sweet as he sat on the floor of mi hut feeding himself and looking around.
Sometimes at night I'd put him in mi bed but one night he pissed all over the sheets so sleeping in the bed with me was now out of bounds to him. Another week and he could hop up on the bed himself but he could not distinguish between the bed and the old dressing table so many a time he would hop up on the table and knock the photos and mi other knick-knacks all over the place. One night when he saw his reflection in the mirror he tried to kick it to death and almost cracked the mirror.
Joey was a lot of fun. Peter was right, it made staying at old Burts' place a bit more tolerable but life being what it is, it soon took joey away from me.
One cold morning at about 4 O'clock, I woke up with a start for some unknown reason. I switched on the one light bulb. Nothing seemed out of place but something did not feel right. Joey was sat in his pouch with his head out of the slit in the bag. His big black eyes were staring across at me.
"Put ya head back in mate, it's a cold morning.", I said but he never moved. "Git back in the pouch where it's warm, joey, or you'll git cold."
I got out of bed and walked across the cold oil-cloth to where joeys' bag was hanging. When I touched his furry head he was as stiff as a board and at once I knew he was dead.
"Oh fuck! Why did you have to go and die just when we were having a good time together?"
When I tried to get joey out of the bag pouch, I saw the reason for his death. A loose strand of bag had gotten twisted around his neck as he got back in his pouch, head first and as soon as he tried to turn around, the piece of frayed string had tightened around his throat and choked him. I had a good cry to myself as I cut the string from around his neck and pulled his stiff little body out of the bag.
Before breakfast, I showed old Kay what had happened and she was also quite upset about it. When Burt found out he said,
"They're pretty hard to raise. If they don't get the scowers they git a cold and if it's not any of those two things, it's something else."
"What do I do with him now Burt? Shall I bury him somewhere?"
"Na mate, just chuck his body to the pigs. It's no good to him now so the pigs may as well eat it. Everything has some use in the bush, mate. We''ll all end up as tucker for something one of these days."
For once, I could see that old Burt was right. Joey could no longer use a dead roos' body, so I hardened my heart and threw the dead body into the pigs pen and walked away.




comes from
within the

People live
their lives
controlled &
by the past

The more you have to protect
the less you will be able
to see things as they truly are.

Victims need the past
& the past needs the victims.


Saturday, December 28, 2013




How fast does time
have to go before
it catches fire?

When there's
no one there
to experience life,
you're dead.

Belief controls the believer.
Be careful what you believe in.

Whatever you are not aware of
is controlling you.
Shine a light in the shadows.
You never know what could
be lurking there.


Staying open to the unknown
in life
is the formula
for living life to
its fullest.

Once you fill up
all your time,
you're out of it!

In my life,
anything that
isn't positive
gets the axe.


Without the spaces
there would be
no more music.

All roads lead
back to the Self.


At the end of the day,
compassion always wins out.

There is no power
in the book.
The power is in
the one who
picks it up.

I can help you
to help yourself.

There is
a method
to this

One develops
by diving
into the

There is nothing
that makes one
respect food more
than the lack of it.

The abuse of power
affects all men.

It's not what you eat
that makes you fat.
It's your lack
of respect for food
and your attitude
towards it.

A man once asked me
if I could give him a
direct experience of God.
"Yes", I said.
I asked him if he could swim.
He said "No."
"Great", I said.
Then I threw him in the Ocean.

I appeared
empty-handed &
I will disappear
appearance &
nothing sticks.

It helps tremendously
by taking a 'hands-off'
approach to life.

The situation
decides the correct
course of action.
The situation
is the compass.
Respond appropriately and
I'll see you when you get home.

I have never really had
a life to call my own.
Looking at you,
I realize how
fortunate I am.

Stability, to me, is
having the ability
to sit there &
allow the power of God
to manifest, un-interfered with.




How many people
have experienced
the joy of
selfless service?

Selfless service
takes one
beyond fear.

'Business as usual'
is built on the
foundation of fear.

I'm here to help
but no one wants it.

Whatever I'm given
I pass it on.

I am not addicted to knowledge,
therefore, I pass it on.

To stay open & loving;
go beyond belief & disbelief.

If I needed support
to do what I do,
I wouldn't get very far,
would I?




comes from
within the

People live
their lives
controlled &
by the past

The more you have to protect
the less you will be able
to see things as they truly are.

Victims need the past
& the past needs the victims.


Friday, December 27, 2013


Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket


When nuclear war happens,
everyone will be bald & toothless
just like me!
My madness
will cure
your madness.

How can you get free of something
when you don't know how it works
..like the mind.

Certain things
go with
certain characters.

With an unknown factor
there is no way of knowing.
You cannot know the unknown.
You can only be it.

You cannot have a global economy
without thinking about everyone
else in the world.

I used to sit in meditation and
watch the sparks shooting out
of the top of my head.

Without a man there
to know it, there is
nothing to know.

Everything you take out
of the Earth is going to
change the Earth.

Without the I AM
there is no Universe.

When one serves the situation
they are free already.
Anything less is boring.

Americas' downfall is that it has never learned to serve. When service is not respected then a state of slavery exists. A society that sees service as a weakness can not survive & that is why imperialist countries crumble, there never has been one that hasn't!

I do what
the situation demands,
what it commands.

If you're having a problem with your mind, put it on a leash and train it. Once you believe you've trained it well enough, let it off the lead. Command it to come back. If it doesn't - You're free of it!

I don't play winners & losers.

Everything talks
but can you
hear it?

Control freaks
don't laugh a lot!

Thursday, December 26, 2013


MY MADNESS WILL CURE YOUR  MADNESS photo Photoon2013-06-13at21_zpscc78dfdb.jpg





Funny, when you take the
'What If?' away it
becomes the real.

You know the
problem with 'aloneness'?
There's no one to thank.

A corridor in time
is the difference
between night & day.

Blame never
healed anything.

Had my life not been like it was
these words would be empty rhetoric.
As it is, they're infused with life force.

My loss is your gain.
Your part is the
courage to take it.

Life is a marriage. Find out what you're not & whatever is left is you & yours, for better or for worse, to love & to cherish, in sickness & in health, to have & to hold till death do us part. AMEN!

Wednesday, December 25, 2013




I've been
living the
for 65 years.

I tried imagination
but it very rarely happened.

If you don't have the power
to change things then
you'll have to trust
that everything will be well.
Even in enlightened societies shit happens.

Positive emotions
are their own reward.

All sting could do was
put a 'messge in a bottle'.
I put it on my forehead!

How can you do
for another
what you haven't done
for yourself?

All you can really do
to help is to see the
best in everyone.
That will bring out
the best in you.

What one sees
in others is
within ourselves.
It is a reflection
of something within.

What you
give to others
you get to


What is time?
Time is an agreed to
'span of nothingness'.

People don't
live on the Earth
they live on concrete.

I live a life of abundance
without waste.

If you cant
separate from it
then you'll
have to
transcend it.

I have lived many,
many lifetimes
in this one life and
I haven't finished yet.

If you don't want to be afraid of the unknown, then get familiar with it. Put all your belief systems aside for a while, even for a few moments, & I will introduce you.

He couldn't change things,
but that didn't mean that
he had to participate.

Your 'there' is not quite 'there', therefore, stick at it. I have great confidence in you. I was like you and you will be like me, in spite of yourself.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013




The nature of fear is weakness.
Once people can't handle
any more fear, then riots ensue.

is a form of stupidity &
stupidity is dangerous.

Death is a very hard way
to find out about deep feelings
but sometimes very necessary.
A chicken taught me that one.

What is it going to take?
Not bad enough yet?




I had my first tattoo at 13 years of age. Reason being, to emulate my father who had tattoos. At 15 he joined the military and fought in World War 1.

In the early 60s', in the Outback of Australia, any form of tattoo was frowned upon. Only 'no-hopers' and criminals had tattoos (of which I was neither). I am telling you this so you can understand, a tattooed head was the last thing I needed, let alone another tattoo. It was the furthest thing from my mind. That said, take a good look at my head. You can only imagine the hours of pain I went through having it done. the symbols on my head all stand for something supremely important. Collectively, the tattoos are a formula for World Peace.

In the last 20 years since I had my head tattooed, one man and one man only has ever stopped me and asked me, "Excuse me sir, would you mind telling me what those symbols on your forehead stand for?" I have lived and traveled in many countries in the last 19 years, one man and one man only has ever asked (under his own motivation).

My companion Uma, out of curiosity, has asked many people that we have met, "Why would you not ask Guruji what those symbols on his head stand for?" Some people have said, "What symbols?" Others said, "Oh, I thought they were private." My consistent reply has always been, "If they were private I would have tattooed them on my ass!"

As you, no doubt, see from the world picture, that the Peace symbols on my head have been of no utter use to me or anyone else, for the past 20 years.

As a four year old child I almost drowned in the Ocean due to the fact that I could not swim. Blue in the face and going down for the third time, I called on Gods' help. Lightning thought told me if there is such a thing as God, then I need saving as I cannot save myself. At that stage, as I sank lower for the third time, I made a promise to God that if He were to save my life, I would carry His orders for as long as I lived on this Earth. From that day to this, I have remained true to my commitment. As you can see from my forehead, no matter how difficult and painful it was, I have fulfilled that order and committed myself to it, to the death of the body.

The knowledge tattooed on my forehead is in seed form at the center of every living beings heart. Even a mass-murderers' actions are a desperate plea for help, thought not a very intelligent way of asking. It is the formula for the destruction of ignorance which is the birth of enlightenment.

Everything is perfect. There will be no mistakes.

Indifference to the sufferings of others is bringing that suffering to our door.

I am not programmed to lie. I am alive by the Grace of God. I am now 62 years old. My time was up in 1952. I have lived very simply, for the past 57 years, on borrowed time. I consider myself very fortunate. I met the God of Death in 1952 and survived to tell the tale. How many of you can read this knowledge and claim to be as fortunate as I am?

Each day I live, hundreds of thousands of children die prematurely from lack of food and water and the violence of war, which comes out of greed. Listen to me carefully when I tell you, these children are mine and I am not happy about it.

The last shall be first and the first shall be last, that I can guarantee you!


Monday, December 23, 2013




Mother Nature
Father God
Will now take
your toys
away from you.

Justice is the
focus of Truth.

Love is indestructible.
It is the only thing
worth focusing on.

One can not put
attention on it
if one's not there.

gets in
the way
of success.

The more food you put on your plate the more problems you will have to deal with. If you really want to eradicate world hunger, it's simple. Cut your food intake by 50% and there will be plenty to go around and tons to spare.

Greed is a disease.
It's as hard to get
rid of as many other
dangerous diseases.

Most people
create obstacles
& put them
in their own way
for self-protection.

Borders create wars.
Get rid of all the
borders & we will
all be one, again!

If you don't want
to end up like me
then don't think
about God.

Out of Nature
comes the natural.
Man interferes
with it
and it

Polluted rivers.
No food.
End of man.

is the
to evolving.

All disease
comes from
the mind

In a corrupt society,
Justice is bought & sold
to the highest bidder.

All happenings
end up
in memory.

When one realizes
that they have no control
over anything,
it's called a crisis.
A crisis is not created.
It just happens.

in the
mind of man.

The only thing
choices can do
is confuse.

2-legged predators won't
appreciate your kindness,
therefore, don't waste it.
Save your love for the happy people.

Saturday, December 21, 2013




Q: Imagine that there is a goose in the bottle. Without smashing the bottle how do you get the goose out, intact?
A: There! it's out.

The goose and the bottle are in the mind. Your mind put the goose in the bottle, therefore, it has the ability to take it out. Likewise with everything else in life. You believe you were born. The world appears according to your belief. Employ the same technique and be free of it. Right action will follow.


Friday, December 20, 2013





You can’t create what you already are, but
you can destroy who you think you are.
Do it now and be free!

What does it matter
if you believe the truth
or disbelieve it?
It makes no difference.

Laughing & praying are equal.
They are both great ways to
communicate with God,

One more mouthful
is the seed of greed.

creates a
false sense
of security.

If you didn’t
have pain
how would you know
you had a body?

is the language one creates
in an attempt to describe
the indescribable.


In order
for steel
to be made,
to die.

I remember you
I create you.

There is more to you
than meets the eye.

creates a false
sense of security.

With the movie
comes the viewer.

The shock of enlightenment
is that nothing changes!

The only way to
learn tolerance
is to tolerate.

No one compels you
to tolerate fools.

In order to see tomorrow,
in order to live for one more day,
What are you prepared to give up-

Thursday, December 19, 2013




Life doesn't make
much sense without
the space.

Staying open
to the unknown
in life
is the formula
for living life to
its fullest.

Once you fill up
all your time,
you're out of it!

In my life,
anything that
isn't positive
gets the axe.


Without the spaces
there would be
no more music.

All roads lead
back to the Self.

You can ask yourself, from now to doomsday, who am I? Interest and honesty is all you need. Welcome dead earnest into your life and you can't fail. Trying to find who you are is endless. Much faster to find out what you're not but be warned, it's the most dangerous inquiry you will set upon.

Tell me something
about yourself
that someone
didn't tell you
or you read in a book.

There is no such thing as enlightenment. There is only ignorance. Destroy ignorance & what's left is THAT. Better make sure you're ready for it. It may not be what you are looking for.


When you want to
put your Trust
into something,
put it into the Unknown.
It will never let you down.

Create Heaven on Earth
then there is no
need to go anywhere.

The Universal Law is
as above so below,
as below so above.
What makes you think
that Heaven will be
better than here?

There are
no free rides.

It's fly
or die.

One weak link
will let you down.

Everyone will get an opportunity
for your, so-called, Enlightenment.

not here to
win friends &
influence people.

When asked a question & you start off your reply with "I think", then it's guaranteed you don't know. Therefore it is better to hold your tongue so it doesn't stir up confusion.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013





What is it like for you
without second-hand knowledge?

Looking for answers
is a fools game.

For there to be
a civil war
people have
to wake up.

Everybody is born crying.
Very few die laughing.

True power
has to be taken.
It cannot be given.
Do you have have
what it takes?

The mirror
doesn’t care
who looks
into it.

If there is a hole for
it to get in,
then there is a hole for
it to get out.


Radical change
radical action.

True understanding
is not needing a ‘me’.

I can give it.
Can you take it?

One can only be free
from what one understands.

The switch
that turns the TV off
is the same switch
that turns interest on.

A peaceful mind
is the basis
of a joy-filled life.

If you
take the lesser,
you cannot
have the greater.

Mind is the scaffolding that
holds consciousness together

Supreme Reality
is the

Death is not of the being,
it is the death of Time.

repeated over & over again
disguises itself as truth.

Courage doesn’t float on the ocean like seaweed,
one has to go to the bottom to discover it.

A fully developed mind
is a silent one.

A fully developed heart
is sweet.
It only knows
how to give.

Societies survival depends on one
Supreme law. When there are two laws
that is a sure sign of a societies demise.

People who hope
have no power.

Commitment shapes life.
Deep commitment
manifests a potent life.

never woke
anyone up.

One who is in debt
has no quality of life.

If you can imagine it,
that’s not it.

All expectation
ever led to
was disappointment.

Anyone can say it,
not everyone can feel it.

Always go to bed happy
in case you don't wake
up in the morning.

'Separated by
time & space'
is no good to me.

All forms
of separation
are misery

There is only
the here & now.

It's all here & now,
including you.

Not 'too big to fail' ~
too 'big to survive'!

If you are
not a success
in your world,
what use are you
in my world?

Sunday, December 15, 2013




You'll know you've met the Guru
when you change in his company.

You'll know you've met the Guru
when you criticize him
& your life falls apart.

People have been lied to so much,
they don't see the importance of Truth.

There is no such thing
as 'gradual awakening'.
You're either
awake or asleep.

Don't waste your time looking
for something that isn't lost.

Attachment causes resistance.
Resistance causes suffering.

Who cares what
you believe
or don't believe.
I know who I AM.
Who are you?

When is
Don't expect
to survive
if you haven't
asked that question.

The man who can
give himself
has gone
the idea
of others.

I don't have to help people
to feel good about myself.
Yet, if you ask, I give freely.

the penny drops
will be the same.

If I can
do it
any fool
do it.

On your deathbed
it's too late.

belief systems
are dreams.

You will be awake
when you know that
waking & sleeping
is a dream;
as with
coming & going.

What makes
a dream
to be real
is excessive interest.

The power behind these words
is potent enough to destroy you
& what you believe yourself to be.

People do not come
to me for hope;
they come
looking for me
when all hope
is gone.

of this
is the birth
of that.

Cavemen mentality
is playing itself out
with modern weaponry.

What will
the military
do to survive?

All that
happens is
Fallout of Transmutation.

Even a crow
can recognize
acts of kindness.
Can you?

Friday, December 13, 2013


“Ya ever had a fuck Yorky?”, said Kevin.
"Na mate, I’m only 15. I doubt whether I'd git one in a brothel with a walletful of money."
We had a good laugh at this one.
"You'll have to come into town and stay at my place one night Yorky. I'll take ya down the main street after dark and introduce ya to the town bike."
"What's a town bike?"
"Not what mate, who? is more like it."
"OK, then who?"
"Who, is a young sheila that loves it. She's called the town bike because everybody rides her, Yorky. Don't ya git it mate?"
"I do now." I said. "But, I think I'll stick to walking until I git a ute."
"Yeh, that'll git ya a sheila, mate." he said with a smile.
After about an hour of joking and driving Kevin said to me, "We'll grease her up this time around Yorky. After I've finished dumping her I'll show ya how to grease her."
Once I became familiar with the header it only took me a few minutes to grease her, which I did while Kevin was emptying out her bin into the truck. Greased and emptied, we set off around the wheat paddock again.
"What's the matter?" said Kevin as I scratched away at my shoulders and the back of my neck.
"The wheat dust is making my skin itchy, mate."
"Yeh, you'll get itchy for the first couple of days, then after that you'll git used to it, mate. Wait till we start stripping the oats and barley. They're much worse than wheat mate."
"How long does it take to git used to that, Kevin?"
"Oh, once you've scratched all the skin off Yorky, you won't notice it anymore." he said with a grin.
Our days passed very much like that for about 8 weeks. One night as we were driving home, Digger said to me, "Grab the rifle off the back window will ya Yorky mate."
"No problem, mate." I said as I turned around to get it.
"There's a box of 22's in the glove box," said Kevin. "Fill the mag up will ya mate?"
"What ya gonna shoot?
"We need a couple of roo's for dog tucker. Diggers' got five dogs and
I've got six of the bastards plus the old man has a couple, so two roos don't last very long between a dozen or so dogs. There's some scrub country up the back of Diggers' place so we'll swing by there on our way home. We'll get two or three quite easy 'cause it's right on dusk now."
"There's a small mob." said Digger, as we drove along side one of his fences.
"Jump in the back with the gun, Digger. Once you've shot one we'll chase 'em down the fence line. If we're lucky you'll git one on the hop!"
Digger very quietly opened the door and climbed in the back of the Ute with Kevin's' 5-shot Bruno 22. BANG! A half-grown roo fell over on its' side and the others took off at top speed.
"Hang on Digger!" yelled Kevin as we bounced over the rough paddock dirt track.
"Wait till we git a bit closer, sport. OK Digger, let 'em have it!"
Digger fired 2 shots and a big roo hit the dust. 2 more shots rang out, but the roos kept hopping.
"Ah, ya useless fucking bastard!" yelled Kevin out the window. "Ya only got one of 'em."
Diggers rough head came into view upside-down in Kevins' side window and said, "You fucking try hitting 'em with a pea rifle off the back of a Ute with no crate on, if ya so fucking good Kevin. It's not as fucking easy as it looks, mate. Anyway, it took me all mi time to hang on. I almost fell out!"
"Ah ya fucking useless Digger", yelled Kevin. "Too much fucking wanking is your problem, mate."
"Well it's cheaper than looking after a fucking wife in town, Kevin."
At first I used to think that they were fair dinkum when they spoke to each other this way but after a while I came to realize that it was all designed to entertain me and entertain me they did.
The Ute pulled up alongside where the roo was now balanced on one leg and his tail and from looks of him he was not in a very good mood.
"He looks a bit cranky." said Kevin, as we got out of the cab.
"He's got a broken leg, that's why." I said.
"They're pretty tough bastards." said Digger, who was sitting on the edge of the back of the Ute.
"They sure are Digger." I said.
"You think you're as tough as a roo, Yorky?" said Digger.
"What d'ya mean Digger?"
"Well, for instance, it would be a bit of a shame to waste another good bullet on him, wouldn't it? "
"I suppose so." I said in my naiveté, not knowing I was in the process of being set up.
"Ya could strangle him, Digger." I said, which was exactly what he'd wanted me to say and I'd taken the bait, hook, line and sinker!
"Yeh, I probably could mate, but I'll bet mi boots a pommy bastard like you wouldn't be able to strangle him."
There was no way out of the challenge now 'cause I was in too deep, so my next line had to be "How much ya wanna bet, Digger?"
"How much ya make a week, Yorky?"
"10 quid. Why?"
"I'll bet ya half a weeks wages."
"You're on Digger." I said as I offered him my handshake.
"Ya words good enough for me, Yorky." he said with a big smile.
"Jesus Christ!" said Kevin. "This'll be a bit of fun. The pommy versus the roo, to the death!"
'Oh shit!' I thought, you let them con you Yorky, now you'll have to go through with it or they'll take the piss out of ya for weeks on end. They'll say that you're a gutless pommy bastard. You'll never hear the end of it.
"Whenever you're ready Yorky." said Digger. "Take ya time mate. He's got a real strong tail. Look how he's sitting up there mate!"
I turned to face the roo, who was now growling and raring to go. As I moved towards him he moved around a bit so he was still facing me, so I moved back around the other way. As soon as I made my move the roo made his, so he was still facing me. I thought, 'I may be able to run around the back side of him', but he saw what I was up to and hopped around on his one good leg and thick strong sinuous tail to face me again.
"Ya not making much headway with him Yorky." said Kevin.
"I think the pommy's scared of him." said Digger.
"If I go at him face on, Digger, he'll kick mi guts out mate!"
"Yeh, he most likely will Yorky." said Digger, who was now chewing on a piece of wheat stalk.
"Tell ya what I'll do for ya Yorky." said Kevin, with a smile. "I'll distract him with a branch and you sneak around the back of him and when he's not looking at ya, run in and grab him mate!"
"OK!" I said, glad for some help. "Go grab a big stick."
Kevin moved over to the side of the fence and picked up a large stick with some eucalyptus leaves on the end of it.
"Alright Yorky!" he said with a big smile. "Git ready mate!"

Kevin walked in front of the roo and shook the stick in the roos face and as the roo turned to face him I made the best of my opportunity. Running towards the roo, I grabbed him by the throat with mi bare hands. This really pissed him off. As I started to squeeze, he put his hands up to my hands that were wrapped tightly around his neck and started to claw at them, so I squeezed his neck much harder now. He fell over backwards on top of me, which knocked me to the ground, but by this time we were both fighting for our lives. As we rolled around on the ground the roos one good back leg kept coming in, up and down with great force as his large razor sharp toenail cut through the air trying to connect with some solid pommy skin. The red dust was flying quite thick now as we rolled around in the dirt. The roos' large, thick tail was thumping the ground as he tried to get his balance back so he could regain his one good leg. We were so close together now that we could smell each other and he sure didn't like the smell of white, pommy, Palmolive flavored skin, so he kicked as hard as he could while at the same time trying to twist his body so he was facing me.
I could hear Digger and Kevin laughing their heads off as Digger said, "Look out Yorky, If he gets turned around to face ya, ya fucked mate! I'll never collect mi five quid!" he roared with laughter.
"Fuck you Digger!" I screamed. "And fuck ya five quid mate. This bastard is a bloody strong roo, even with one leg!"
"Hang on to him, Yorky baby." roared Kevin from the sideline. "I think ya making a bit of progress with him, mate. Try squeezing a bit harder Yorky!"
I could feel the vibration in the roos' voice box as he growled and growled. I was squeezing as hard as I could but it was not making much impression on him as we still rolled in the Aussie dirt. He tried to regain his foot and rolled over on his other side taking me with him as I tried to get a foothold in the dust with mi work boot.
"I think ya getting one up on him, Yorky!" roared Kevin amidst a big belly laugh. "His eyes are starting to bulge a little bit."
"I can't squeeze any harder!”, I yelled to Kevin as we rolled around again.
"If he turns around to face ya Yorky, give him a big kiss. That'll confuse him mate, but be careful he doesn't bite ya lip."
"And look out for his breath!" added Kevin. "It probably stinks. It doesn't look like he's cleaned his teeth for a while, mate!"
"Give us a fucking hand, Kevin!" I yelled. "I'm stuck with him. I can't kill him I can't let him go!"
"Ya going great Yorky." yelled Digger. "I'm getting mi 5 quid out now so I can pay ya mate, as soon as he's dead."
The roo was in no worse shape now than before I started. His sinewy neck was strong as hard-core rubber under the gray and brown fur. The more and longer I squeezed, the more it seemed to piss him off. I felt like he knew I'd lost before I started and all I could do now was to hang on to his neck so he couldn't turn around and kick me to death.
As I eventually regained my feet I yelled to Kevin, "Bait him with the stick mate, I'm gonna try to let him go!"
"No.", he said. "Hang onto him Yorky. You're doing great mate!"
"Fuck you Kevin! You take over if ya want but I'm lettin’ him go right now mate, so grab the stick!"
I let go of the grip I'd had on the roos' throat and as I opened mi hands he shot forwards and regained his feet. I shot backwards as fast as I could go without losing mi footing. The roo had turned around again as he'd gone forward so now we stood face to face with each other at a distance of about 8 feet.
As we both stood there, breathing hard and gasping for breath, Digger said, "I think you've just about got him fucked Yorky. Dive on him again mate and give him another good dose. Show him what you're made of Yorky!"
"Fuck you Digger!", I said between gasps. "He's too good for me mate."
Digger was sat on a can in the back of the Ute still laughing away to himself as Kevin shot the roo and stuck him in the back of the Ute with the other one.
"Alright.” said Kevin. "Let's go. It'll be ten O'clock before I get home at this rate. The missus will be wondering where I got to."
When we got back to the homestead we threw the 2 roos into the dog pen and Kevin opened 'em up with a sharp pocketknife so as to make it easier for them to get at the meat. When we walked away the Kelpies were all fighting to maintain their positions in the pack and some of them were fighting to move up a position so they could eat before the rest of 'em.
"Look at the bastards!" said Kevin. "They won't work for a bloody week after a feed like that."
"Yeah." said Digger. "It's just as well we won't be needing 'em for a while."
That evening, after a good shower, Digger related the story of how Yorky had tried to strangle a roo on the way home. Dick Skipworth had a good laugh between mouthfuls of cold mutton and Ruby said to me, "Be careful of those two boys of mine, Yorky, they'll kid ya up a tree and chop it down it ya let 'em."
"I can see that, Mrs. Skipworth. I'll watch out for 'em from now on. I owe Digger 5 quid."
Digger started to laugh and after he'd finished he said, "I'm canceling the bet, Yorky. That's the best 5 quids worth of entertainment I've ever had in mi life, mate."