Seeking hidden doorways to realities that urge us to awaken from the trance of the mundane world and discover the truth of our Inner Self.
Yesterday I was walking in Kakadu National Park in one of the Rock Art Sites. There was a sign telling us that the people of the area are gone – and that they are now taking care of that site.
My heart wrenched. What?
A whole clan of Australian Aboriginals are gone? The whole lot of them? That clan group was completely obliterated by the Europeans and no longer exist. How heartbreaking!
I wonder what stories they held. I wonder what their life was like there. I wander what Dreamtime beings they conversed with. What tools they did use for hunting and cooking and cleaning? What was their totem animals?
There’s another clan up near Cooktown that is completely gone too. And I know of yet another clan that is no longer near Yungaburra.
It would be nice to know their stories – at least.
And so I wandered through the Rock Art sites in Kakadu with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes.
They’re all gone.
This culture is gone.