How to Cook an Emu

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Dear Inner Circle,

A relationship exists between humour and suffering. It’s not that suffering is funny, but that there is something awesome about the human spirit that learns through suffering to recognise the humour. It’s the joy of declaring that the “emperor has no clothes,” or the joy that comes from just the sheer presence of others. At Wayside, it is among Aboriginal people that you will most often find sharp cries of pain but also the resounding sound of laughter. This week I was invited to our ‘Mob Lunch’, run by our Aboriginal Program Manager, Mon. This weekly event is so much more than just an opportunity to eat a meal, it’s a marvellous exercise in community development and brings together rich diversity of stories and people sitting side by side. I ended up next to a fellow with a dry sense of humour who began to tell me how to cook an emu. I’m wasn’t sure how seriously to take the cooking advice but I asked questions like, “How do you catch an emu?” A detailed explanation was given about how you entice an emu to come to you. He then described how to leave the animals above the fire, so that when smoke emerged from its mouth, you’d know it was cooked. Still unsure if any of this was serious, I asked how the cooked emu tasted. My mate said, “Oh, it tastes just like wombat!” I think when I left the room, I might have been the joke.

Minutes ago, I was in our café. I began a conversation with a lovely bloke who started to share how deeply he’d been in the grip of depression. We were joined by another lovely old fellow who jumped into the conversation. His voice is rather loud and so it was not a contribution that could be ignored. The new fellow to the table was not in any way psychotic and yet his contribution bore no connection to the conversation into which he jumped. I asked several probing questions in the hope that there might have been a connection that I couldn’t quite make out. There wasn’t. We were then joined by a couple that I’d not seen at Wayside for some years. I was glad to see these two, even though I had multiple separate conversations happening at the table already. The couple each tried to catch me up on several years of history that I’d missed. Within just a sentence or two, it was clear that each of them had vastly different stories to tell, at the same time.[vc_row columns_on_tablet=”keep” padding_top=”0″ padding_bottom=”0″][vc_column h_text_align=”left” h_text_align_mobile=”left” v_align=”v-align-middle” use_background=”” width=”1/1″][tm_image image_id=”683″ link_image=”none” textarea_html_bkg_color=”#ffffff” caption_type=””][/tm_image][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row columns_on_tablet=”keep” padding_top=”50″ padding_bottom=”50″][vc_column h_text_align=”left” h_text_align_mobile=”left” v_align=”v-align-middle” use_background=”” width=”1/1″][tm_textblock textarea_html_bkg_color=”#ffffff”]The last person to join our circle sat down and shared a heart-rending story about loss of children and her powerlessness against the might of a government department to make her case for custody again. It was a truly distressing plight although no-one was listening. They were all too busy telling their own stories of heartache. I sometimes allow myself to sit amid such a cacophony and just take it all in. My heart wants to split in five separate directions and although I’m rather useless in this situation, it seems like just being physically present is something of a feeble gift. As I moved from the group to head upstairs and write this note to you, I could hear similar raised voices coming up from the street. The voices didn’t sound unhappy but they didn’t sound coordinated either. It is quite something to listen to someone who has no expectation of being heard. It’s difficult but every now and then someone opens their eyes and sees that someone is with them and for them. That’s when the magic happens. This is such an important place.

A young, inspiring, healthy woman who has worked miracles for Wayside is currently fighting for her life against a nasty cancer behind her nose. All who know her have been jolted into a place of alarm and love. Some are crying, “It’s not fair” and some are just crying. Many of us love her to the extent that we would forfeit our own lives if it would give her young life back. The phones are running hot; text messages are being passed around at all hours. Love, alarm and more love has woken us up again. We know that all our riches reside in one another.Thanks for being part of our inner circle,

Graham

Rev Graham Long AM
CEO & Pastor
The Wayside Chapel

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