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The Story of the Blessing of Community Spirit during the Deconstruction of the Worldview Centre at the beginning of the 2011 New Year

In amongst the chaos of buildings breaking apart in the pouring rain, landslides and other dramas (see below), there emerged the most beautiful experience of community spirit. It's the Spirit that arises between groups who do inner work together, and (for me) is the sweetest juice from the fruit of my soul work.

My community is a tapestry of different sources... the people who attend or run workshops here, my men's community (menswellbeing.org), The Joining mob (thejoining.com.au), my Integral friends and a small band of Maleny locals. What they all share in common

emotions. I have been touched deeply by so many with such wisdom and tenderness. In a very real sense I am incredibly lucky to have been so blessed.

First a couple of women battled through rain and knee deep mud for days on end to feed and care for me (Astrid de Ruiter and Arisa Inlakesh) and move all the main lounge furniture out of harms way. Then the men swung into action. Paul Williamson and James McCormack spent two days sorting the electricity to make it safe and functional. Then on just a few days notice, Andy Roy arranged 30 people to show up and get into it. Together over two weekends they fully demolished half the main house, re-did all the plumbing, recycled all the salvagable materials and transformed what is left into a weatherproof, functioning home. Behind the scenes, nurturing souls (often with Rose Ward at the centre of things) kept us all fed and hydrated and bandaged when needed.

Mystery men spent days driving to and from the tip with all the rubble. As of yesterday, thanks to the amazing efforts one woman (Jani Smith, left), all the framing timber (yes, the massive pile you see below) has been denailed and stacked ready for reuse.

I've been deeply blessed by a community spirit that has served me in the deepest possible way during a time where things could have gone very badly for me.

So the aftermath of the break, the demolition and the tidy-up, we have lost our lounge and master bedroom and en-suite, but picked up a really terrific concrete verandah with great views to the coast. With the palm trees in the background and the warm ocean breeze up the Moololah Valley, with some over-active imagination it feels a bit like Bali. The new deck is therefore officially the Whirled-View Bali Banana Bar (the floor resembing the shape of a banana). It has since been the site of numerous end-of-day beer-breaks, the occasional dance and other suitable frivolities.

Greetings Everyone

I know a few folk out there are waiting for news about our deconstruction adventure and the fate of worldview. I’ve written a bit of a tome below which I’m guessing is also some kind of therapy for me.

The good news is… we are STILL HERE! The part of the house that was breaking up has been surgically removed by a bloke with a concrete saw and a great wave of volunteer souls with crowbars, chainsaws and hammers. What used to be the main lounge and master bedroom is now an empty concrete slab with a monster crack down the middle (and a very short ski slope to the east). The kitchen, big verandah and guest bedroom wing are still standing and relatively level, which means we still have a place to live (handy that!). The kitchen is still vulnerable to land moving (if we get a lot more rain before drainage gets done) so the adventure is not over yet, but we’re good for now.

So far, the big room is hanging in there. It has been a bit undermined and a bit pushed and pulled and twisted, but it’s still here, and now converted into the world’s most spacious loungeroom! I’m sitting in it now and feeling pampered by my beautiful surrounds, and very grateful for the aesthetic gifts of the feminine souls who arranged it with such finesse. I can no longer make a living out of this room, but I can now (for the first time) live in the room. With all the sacred work that has happened in this place, it’s like living in a gompa… what a blessing!

The other up-side is the back of the broken slab is quite level, and makes for an outstanding deck with a great view and HIGHLY suited to cocktails at sunset!

The BIG luminous silver lining of this deconstruction of our livelihood is still the response of my community. Last Saturday some 30 people showed up and worked like banshees all day doing work that sometimes was downright perilous. Then they all went home (at my request) to give me a chance to digest it. Next morning another team of 8 to 10 arrived, again worked hard ALL day, and by the end of it there was a sense of orderliness about the place that was nothing short of miraculous.

In two days, half a house was demolished to the concrete, with most materials salvaged and stacked, and the rest taken to the dump. The plumbing was reorganised, my fridges rationalised, and the big room was beautifully rearranged to become my new loungeroom.

My fridge is full of food and this place is full of the radiant energy of so many open-hearted people walking their talk. One of them even thanked ME for creating the opportunity for such a beautiful and potent community event. Another old customer asked for bank details to donate directly to their disaster relief recipient of choice. I’m inspired to quote Garry Lawler again who said something like… "there is nothing more valuable than what is exchanged with those we love". I’m lucky enough to be living through a delicious feast of gifts from the radiant hearts of others, embodied as selfless action. As I tell the story in the future, the punch-line will always be about community.

The big downside of course is that the Worldview Centre no longer exists as a workshop venue. As this was our livelihood, we are forced to sell it as we have no cash to support us while rebuilding. In this condition, it will have to be let go more-or-less for the price of the vacant land. I have not yet given up hope that insurance may cover it (although it will likely be a fight) and I have a strong hope to call in a visionary who will rebuild it bigger and better than before. We own the property so when it sells, we will have enough to buy somewhere else and start a new life. Meanwhile we will likely get some help from the system to eat and pay bills.

Meanwhile my inner world has been swinging to and fro, sometimes overwhelmed, other times weary and small, other times blessed and open, and sometimes downright delighted. For most of last Saturday I was wandering around in a daze, overwhelmed and blown away by everything happening so quickly and on such a scale. My body couldn’t keep up. Usually with an evening of just sitting in it and digesting the change, I wake up the next day and get busy again doing what must be done while finding moments of beauty and softness in amongst the rubble.

So a loss here, a gain there, a corner turned, and now living in unknown terrain, in a context way beyond my experience. The event itself asks me to be accepting and then to respond in some useful way to stuff way out my depth. My heart tells me to stay real with my feelings and not toughen up so much that I don’t feel the trauma of it, but to not feel so much that I collapse and withdraw.

On my good days, I’m learning trust and surrender. Whatever the confluence of forces that create my experience of life, it’s definitely a pressure cooker of some kind. I’m trusting that the universe did not screw up in manifesting this particular circumstance for me and us, so I’m a just a bit excited about what opportunities the future will bring. If it were an artwork, I reckon it would be a cross between Picasso and Van Gogh after a real bender on something strong, and a deeper part of me quite loves it.

Deb and I still speak everyday. It’s been a huge journey for her too of course, but very different. She described it as all a bit surreal, which makes sense. Over in Florida, she can’t feel in her body with the same intensity the weeks of continuous rain, or the house breaking up around her, or the raw energetics of the whole region as we navigate so many disasterous moments. Her mental attitude is a bit like mine… wavering like a flag in a hurricane, but mostly now we are both more accepting and forward-looking with a sauce of optimism and a few spicy sprinkles of trust. Overall Deb is doing great and is excited to be coming home soon. Our mantra together is to keep looking forward as we make the best of whatever unfolds.

Much Gratitude

Terry

Donations

I've had several people who want to help (but cannot be here) ask me for bank details to make a donation to us specifically rather than to the general disaster funds. Needless to say, we are both moved deeply by such generosity.  

If you are so moved, here are details of our private account (we pay 10% GST for everything that goes through Worldview accounts).

ANZ
BSB: 014 249
ACC: 5352 51906
NAME: T M Bishop

If you would like to donate but don't do internet banking, our postal address is
PO Box 285
Maleny QLD 4552