Trees and Me

My love affair with trees, particularly as part of a bushland or forest, began a long, long time ago.

When I was a young girl, growing up in Melbourne suburbia, there was a last remnant of bushland and orchard near our home. I remember when I was very little being scared of it as we walked past one day. Some old man lived there… in the forest. It was the stuff of fairy tales – and not the good ones!

One day that man died, the property was sold and a plan was released to build a housing estate.

It was then I first learned the meaning of the wonderful quote…

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” Margaret Mead (anthropologist)

For my parents, along with some other neighbours, started a petition for the council to buy the land and turn it into parkland. They knocked on doors and talked to the local papers. They held meetings. They made a fuss. And eventually they won.

That park became one of my favourite childhood places.

There was a big open space to run, kick a footy or ride a bike. There were a few bent over gum trees to climb… nothing spectacular, but adventurous enough for a non-climber like myself. During the school holidays, the council would turn up with a mobile playground or jumping castle and all the neighbourhood kids would gather. I still fondly recall the laughs and games we had as not-quite-teens, enjoying a last little splash of childhood on that jumping castle.

But my favourite part was the bushland. I spent hours there walking, soaking up the atmosphere of the trees, searching for wildflowers, admiring fairy toadstools with their little raised white spots on deep red caps, lying on the ground amongst native grasses, looking up through the branches at the sky beyond.

As a teenager I walked home that way every day from school, catching a little bit of the bush’s peace that soothed my hormonally charged mind. Tears were shed; kisses were stolen; hearts were broken; graffiti publicised the fact. Once a fire was accidentally lit (not by me, but by some of my friends… oops!)

I came to love trees with a passion. I wanted to do everything I could to protect them. I couldn’t understand why Mum wouldn’t let the-then-14-year-old-me chain myself to a tree in the Daintree. Instead I stuck a NO DAMS sticker on my guitar case. I was proud to associate myself with the term “greenie”… even though back then, that term was mainly reserved for hippies with dreds, drugs, crystals and clothes from Bali.

I absorbed the oxygen and the energy from trees wherever I went. As a young adult, I went for daily walks around the Tan, and watched plays and movies under the spectacular old trees of the Royal Botanic Gardens. Later, hubby and I chose a nearby canopy of oaks as the venue for our wedding.

We travelled the world in search of forests (and mountains, but that’s off topic). Twice I have visited the Amazon rainforest in Peru. Each time it has been like a homecoming.

Through my work, I have always supported the forests. When my company became the first to introduce FSC certified papers into Australia, I (along with my colleagues), spread the word enthusiastically. I became heavily involved with a project that raised over $0.5 million in funds to rehabilitate urban bushland. Later, I worked with managers and suppliers to replace an entire portfolio of paper products with forest friendly recycled and forest certified grades. It may seem weird that someone so devoted to forests should work in the paper industry… but I am proud of my achievements – I stood by my beliefs and ensured that recycled and forest certified papers became a viable choice… Now I use the papers I selected and created. That feels pretty good actually!

Today, the forest is my home. Being in the forest has become part of my psyche.

It is not easy living among trees. Each blistering hot summer day has you shaking to your core… each blustery winter’s eve has you lying awake in fear. But awakening to the sound of the kookaburras and the wind in the leaves is a feeling that cannot be described. Looking out of your bedroom window at an endless sea of green, often bathed in a strange fog, or in dappled sunlight, takes your breath away.

I head out into my little forest on the weekends, to pull weeds and encourage the native plants. Sometimes my little Landcare-group-of-one does some tree planting (thanks to the awesome guys at the Knox Environment Society).

My walks in the magnificent temperate rainforests of the nearby Dandenong Ranges keep my head in check and my life in balance. Often I see a bounding wallaby or hear a lyrebird’s call. The tall mountain ash remind me that if you only reach for the sky, anything is possible…

I still lie on the ground (or a perfectly placed picnic table) and look up at the sky through those tall, tall trees.

My Mum now takes her grandson to play on the playground of that park she helped saved all those years ago. He climbs the same trees the bro and I used to climb.

People still connect with nature. Small groups still help change the world.

And guess what? Kids still love to climb trees…

Let them!

Of Pizza and Haiku

I’d never thought I’d see the day, but I am missing Adelaide. Well… mostly Glenelg – the beach, the relaxed atmosphere, the cafes and restaurants, and above all Good Life Pizza.

Maybe it was their friendly Facebook reminder last Friday to order early for takeaway, so you could curl up in front of the Royal Wedding, that did it. The photo looked sooooo delicious (that’s it above, I didn’t think they’d mind me sharing it with you!). I cheekily asked if they delivered to Melbourne. They replied that they would check flights, but not to count on it! I know they don’t deliver. It’s just another example of that fun repartee that has always accompanied their amazing pizzas.

It is this rapport, as well as the great food, that kept us going back, time after time, after time, after time… Sharing renovation stories, food tips, career advice, baby photos and the occasional beer after a shift with staff, are among our many happy memories of our times there. While we are no longer regulars, when we do dine there on our occasional trips to Adelaide, we are always welcomed with open arms.

We’ve gathered friends with the simple call, “duckduckduckduckduckduck”. Laughed. Chilled. Drunk too many bottles of Alicante. Eaten too much Swiss Brown Mushroom Pizza (is there such a thing?)

We’ve even written poetry there (once, it was even about the pizza – see Pizza Haiku below).

Yes, the food is great. Yes, the atmosphere is warm and inviting. But for us, Good Life has created something else, something we have been privileged to be a part of (at least for a little while). Community.

Too often, we shut ourselves into our own little world, even when we’re surrounded by other people: on the train; waiting in a queue; or even when dining out at a restaurant.

Let’s not forget that those waiters, bar tenders and managers are people too, with stories, interests and lives.  Who knows – a little friendly repartee could change your good dining experience into a great one.

Pizza Haiku

Pizza on my mind
sparkling wine with melted cheese
eaten with gusto

Moments worth keeping
music with friends, food and wine
Love from the divine

Organic, sublime
Flavours, music, friends
Pizza at week’s end

P.S. Good Life is by no means the only place where we have experienced “community” while dining out. Here are a few more places that we think deserve a little recognition – Indochine, Glenelg; Europa, Glenelg; Ripe, Sassafras; Earthly Pleasures, Belgrave; The City Wine Shop, Melbourne; Tancat, Buenos Aires. (Q: why don’t restaurants have their own websites?)

Who do you think deserves a little recognition for creating Community, as well as providing great food? I’m sure we’d all prefer to dine somewhere friendly.

P.P.S. If you run a restaurant or café, might I suggest you consider “community” as a good financial investment. If we’re anything to go by, repeat business, celebrating special occasions with friends and spreading word of mouth, is great for the bottom line (if not for our wallets!)

Wanted: Heroes. Must be able to change the World

Every now and a truth hits me between the eyeballs.

It’s a bit like being hit by a Mack truck – except that instead of crashing to the ground in physical pain, I become completely overwhelmed by emotion. Tears well up, my chest tightens… I enter a different dimension – it’s kind of hard to explain. And at the time, I usually can’t. It is only with the wisdom of hindsight that I realise that what I experienced was the uncovering of a deep, personal truth – something that is about to change my life profoundly, if I choose to act on it.

One particular time, (seemingly a lifetime ago, but in reality, less than 3 years), I was at a leadership course with work and we were asked to give a short presentation about a leader we admired – in other words, for us, the aspiring leaders of the company – our hero. I’ve never been big into heroes (they feel too much “out there”, and I’m a bit too egalitarian for that), but there has always been one person that fitted the “hero bill” for me. I even posted a picture of this person up on my desk! That person was Anita Roddick, founder of The Body Shop.

On this particular day, I had to stand up in front of my colleagues (who after a total of 9 days of residential training I was getting to know pretty well) and talk about Anita Roddick. It should have been a cinch. Instead – Mack Truck moment! Even to write about her, in preparation for our mini-presentation, brought floods of tears. And I had no idea why – then.

Now it all makes sense.

Recently I read two books that on the surface were vastly different. The first – At Home by Bill Bryson, is a history of home-life in the western world, focusing in particular on the changes brought about by the industrial revolution. It’s an incredibly interesting and enjoyable read, full of anecdotes and eccentric characters.

The second is Half the Sky by reporters, Nicholas D Kristof & Sheryl WuDunn, which tells real-life stories of women’s struggles in the developing world. The stories are graphic and heart wrenching. Reading it was hard work for someone who usually takes the stance, “I know it exists, I care, but I don’t want to look”, wherever violence is concerned. Except that I was so startled by the strength and heroism of some of these women, against insurmountable odds, that I could not help but continue.

What struck me though is the incredible parallel of circumstances. 150-180 years ago, the western world was the developing world. Slavery, poverty, disease, illiteracy and the treatment of women as second-class citizens were just as prevalent. Since then, we have discovered the solutions (and related consequences e.g. environmental destruction) to these problems – industrialisation, modern medicine, education, equal rights, science and technology. Sure, in our world women may still be paid less than men, but they can go to school, vote, choose how many children they have and live relatively comfortably. As Australians we are lucky enough to have access to a reasonable level of health care for all. We know how to fix our environmental problems (whether we choose to implement the solutions is a whole other issue). We can produce enough food for everyone.

In short, we already have the answers.

What the world needs now is more heroes – those people, who like Anita, are willing to stand up and say, “NO this is not good enough. What can I do to change this?”

What happened on that fateful day was that I connected with a dream – a BIG, HAIRY AUDACIOUS dream! That dream… To build on Anita’s legacy and build a business that is environmentally and socially responsible AND turns a decent profit; that takes a stance on issues such as education for girls and the environment AND makes some pretty nice products that people like to use; that trusts that ordinary people THINK, and want to do the right thing; to completely rewrite the corporate manual, and create a whole new business model, just right for a new world order. She did it, why can’t I?

Admittedly, comparing my little biz to The Body Shop seems a bit ambitious at moment (and if you saw my dining table based manufacturing plant last week, you’d think it was a LOT ambitious!)

But I have faith in me.

What I don’t have is the million dollars to speed up the whole process. Instead, I’ll just have to make do and build slowly; carefully; thoughtfully – in just the same way as others have before me, including Anita.

While we might not all rise to the multinational corporation heights of Anita, across the world, we entrepreneurs – whether from the poorest neighbourhoods of the third world, making the most of our micro-loans, or starting out from our dining tables in our comfortable suburban homes – are each heroes in our own rights. We’ve made the decision to break free of the rat race and create our own destinies. More importantly, we’re finding our own ways to utilise the knowledge built over the past 150 years or so to help solve the problems of the world.

So while I want it all NOW, it’s probably for the best that I learn from these heroes, and like Anita and millions of other business owners before me, take one little baby step at a time.

Unless you’re happy to donate a million dollars, of course!