Oombulgurri

(This stand in is waiting for an authentic pic from Oombulgurri)

An elder, one who held the community together, died. The people who lived in Oombulgurri (a village, once a mission station, in the Kimberleys, Western Australia) were in a mourning period. The people of the community were all in their homes, playing cards or sleeping. Wood burning on open fires filled the community with a warm sense of total peace. The place was unusually quiet everywhere.

Out of nowhere, a change in the air pressure caused the door to the commnity store to fling open. It  had been secured and this did not make sense at all. Two  of the women who worked in the store hastened to get me. We high tailed it to the store together to see what had happened. The strangest part of this happening was that, even with the doors wide open, nobody attempted to go into the store and help themselves - which would not have been unusual.

When we arrived, the  other two women would not go inside the store. Most of the people of this very small community of about 100, were standing near the store, just watching. I went inside,wondering to myself how to make the most of this - to further increase the ownership of tthe development and well being of his community by the people standing outside.

Inside was dark, except for a light streaming through a hole in the corner of the roof. The light was extraordinarily bright - or so I thought at that moment. It set my imagination into full screen production. One of this ancient culture's beliefs is that each living thing has a wanjana (dreamtime apirit). I imagined that this light was the wanjana of this elder who had just died.  I imagined him telling me to tell the people outside that he was protecting the store and them as well. I turned around, facing the people standing outside and told them just that. I asked if anyone needed anything from the store,since we were here. Noone did and all returned to their homes.
We locked the doors and checked carefully that all was secure. I set out to return to my own place. On the way, one of the elders called me over to her fire.  She asked me to tell her EXACTLY what I had seen, heard,  and felt. So, I told her that I had quite vividly imagined what I had related to the people standing outside the store.  her response was, "You are one of the clever ones". Translated, that means, I know the secrets of the elders and how to use them.

Clearly, I had crossed over into the persona of another culture, stood in a very primal place, and responded. I acted with a pure heart. I had connected with the people of another culture as One.

This is what the world needs today. People who can do this adeptly and with purpose. This is what I see in so many people today. One by one, occasion by occasion, connecting. Understanding the commonality at the center of different perspectives and understandings of life.

Where has this happened to you? 
Where have you seen it happening?
What difference does it make.