Remembrance Day: Have We Forgotten Those Who Served Australia?

As Remembrance Day arrives on 11 November, I find myself reflecting on something that should never become a political afterthought: how Australia treats the men and women who have served our country.

We gather each year to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice. We wear our poppies, observe a minute’s silence and speak of courage, loyalty and freedom. These are important traditions. But I wonder whether we show the same respect to those who return home after serving.

It is easy to honour the fallen in speeches. It is another thing to stand by our veterans when they need support, recognition and fair treatment.

For me, Remembrance Day is also an opportunity to ask our political leaders whether their decisions reflect the gratitude they express at commemorative services.

The difference between governments and the treatment of veterans

I have never believed that Liberal Coalition governments were perfect. No government is. However, I remember a time when I felt there was a stronger public commitment to recognising and defending the service of our veterans.

One example that stands out is the controversy surrounding the Afghanistan Special Operations Task Group.

In 2020, following the Brereton Inquiry into alleged misconduct by Australian special forces in Afghanistan, then Chief of the Defence Force General Angus Campbell recommended withdrawing the Meritorious Unit Citation awarded to approximately 3,000 personnel who had served between 2007 and 2013.

In April 2021, the then Coalition Defence Minister Peter Dutton decided that the collective citation should be retained. His position was that the overwhelming majority who had served honourably should not be collectively punished for the alleged wrongdoing of individuals. Those found guilty could still face individual consequences.

I thought this was an important distinction: recognise those who served honourably while holding individuals accountable for their own actions.

Under the Albanese Labor Government, another decision followed. In September 2024, Defence Minister Richard Marles announced the removal of distinguished service awards from fewer than ten current or former senior commanders following reviews of their command responsibility during the Afghanistan conflict.

These were different decisions involving different awards and responsibilities. Yet it did not sit well for the veteran community. I don’t blame them.

I understand that serious allegations must be investigated. No one should be above the law. But I also believe accountability must be fair and consistent, extending throughout the chain of command where responsibility is established. I really don’t understand, why the Defence Minister Richard Marles decided to remove the service awards. They were sent by the Australian government to Afghanistan. They were following order from the Australian government and the generals. Why did Richard Miles whole the government and the generals accountable. Only the soldiers. A reminder of what happen with veterans that returned from Vietnam.

Accountability should never be applied selectively.

Under the Albanese Labor Government, another decision followed. In September 2024, Defence Minister Richard Marles announced the removal of distinguished service awards from fewer than ten current and former senior commanders following reviews of their command responsibilities during the Afghanistan conflict.

These were separate decisions involving different awards and responsibilities. Nevertheless, the decision did not sit well with the veteran community, and I can understand why.

I recognise that serious allegations must be investigated and that no one should be above the law. However, accountability must be fair and consistent, extending throughout the chain of command wherever responsibility is established.

What I struggle to understand is why the focus appeared to fall on the senior commanders and their service awards without the same public scrutiny of the Australian Government and the senior military leadership who made the decisions to deploy Australian forces and establish the command structure under which they operated.

Australian soldiers were sent to Afghanistan as part of a government-led military mission. They served under orders and within a chain of command. If we are examining responsibility for what happened, surely that examination must consider the decisions made at every level, including those of government and senior military leadership, not just the individuals who served on the ground.

It is difficult not to draw comparisons with the experience of Australian veterans returning from the Vietnam War, many of whom felt abandoned and unsupported by the country they had served.

Accountability should never be applied selectively. Those who serve deserve fairness, and responsibility should be examined wherever it genuinely lies.

What about the veterans who came home?

There is more to respecting veterans than medals and decorations.

There are people who returned from war carrying injuries that cannot always be seen. There are families who have lived with the consequences of military service. There are veterans who have struggled to obtain the assistance they need.

The Australian National Audit Office reported that, as of 28 February 2026, the Department of Veterans’ Affairs had 95,650 claims on hand, including 29,989 that had not yet been allocated to an officer.

The average processing time for certain claims is substantial.

Behind these figures are real people. People who have already given years of their lives to this country and who may now be waiting for assistance with injuries and conditions connected to their service.

Governments can point to funding, reforms and new programmes. But what matters to a veteran is whether the assistance arrives when it is needed.

Respect cannot be measured by announcements alone.

Victoria Barracks: Have we forgotten what it represents?

Another decision by the Albanese Government that troubled me was the proposed disposal of Victoria Barracks in Paddington, Sydney.

This is not simply another government property. Its history dates to the 1840s. It has been an important centre of military activity in New South Wales for generations.

Victoria Barracks also has a significant connection to Australia’s military history. The site was used for recruitment activities during both World Wars and is home to the Army Museum of NSW.

For many Australians, this is more than a collection of old buildings. It represents generations of military service and sacrifice.

I was particularly disappointed by the remarks made by Defence Minister Richard Marles about the historic wine cellar and lawn bowls facilities at the barracks. He questioned their relevance to Defence’s operational requirements.

What I find particularly disappointing is the way our military heritage has been spoken about. It is not simply an item of expenditure or an operational consideration. It represents the service, sacrifice and commitment of Australians who have served their country. To speak about it in a way that makes it sound like a burden, or an inconvenience shows little regard for those who have worn the uniform and for the veterans who carry that history with them. They deserve more respect than that.

Defence Minister Richard Marles comments did not sit well with me.

Veterans, former senior military officers, the RSL and members of the public raised concerns about the proposed disposal. People from different political backgrounds questioned the government’s approach.

I also questioned whether the long-term strategic needs of our country had been adequately considered.

The government argued that the site was underused, expensive to maintain and no longer suited to Defence’s operational needs. It estimated that significant expenditure would be required to maintain it as a Defence site.

Those arguments deserve consideration. But there is a difference between relocating Defence personnel and disposing of a site with such an important history.

A change of position, but only a partial victory

On 8 November, just three days before Remembrance Day, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese announced that Victoria Barracks Sydney would remain in public ownership. Its heritage would be protected, and the Australian War Memorial would be involved in telling its history.

This was a welcome change from the original proposal to sell the property.

However, there is something important that should not be overlooked.

The military personnel are still expected to leave. By the end of 2026, almost all personnel at Victoria Barracks will have been relocated to Randwick Barracks and Defence Plaza Sydney.

Richard Marles argues that Defence Plaza Sydney, established under the former Coalition Government, is a modern facility that is currently around 60 per cent empty and better suited to office-based work.

There is another aspect of Defence Plaza Sydney that raises questions beyond its occupancy and suitability as office accommodation: national security.

Defence Plaza Sydney is a foreign-owned commercial building. During Senate Estimates, it was revealed that the beneficial owners are a Singapore real estate fund and that the building is mortgaged to the Singapore-based Oversea-Chinese Banking Corporation (OCBC).

This raises legitimate questions about foreign ownership, financial interests and the security of Australian Defence facilities. While Defence officials maintain that security assessments and safeguards are in place, questions were raised during the hearing about whether Defence was aware of the mortgage.

If we are relocating elements of our Defence command structure into a privately owned, foreign-financed commercial building, Australians are entitled to ask what safeguards are in place to protect sensitive information, communications and national security.

It is not enough to say that the building has secure areas. We should also be asking whether placing important Defence personnel in a foreign-owned commercial property is the most appropriate long-term arrangement for Australia's national security.

 I question why the military needs to be moved out of Victoria Barracks altogether?

A military barracks is more than office accommodation. It represents an active connection between our armed forces, their history and the wider community.

What does it say about our appreciation of military tradition when we preserve the buildings but remove the people who give them their continuing purpose?

The RSL has welcomed the decision to retain the property but described it as a partial victory. Its concern is that keeping the buildings in public hands protects military heritage but does not necessarily protect Defence capability.

I share the concern that more needs to be considered.

Why can’t an appropriate military presence remain? Have all the alternatives been properly explored?

Keeping the historic buildings, opening them to the public and allowing commercial opportunities may preserve part of their heritage. But it does not answer the question of why an active military presence is no longer considered appropriate. Why the insistence of moving to Defence Plaza Sydney a foreign-owned commercial building?

To me, this feels like a half-hearted compromise. The government has responded to public pressure by retaining the property, but it is still proceeding with the departure of Defence personnel.

Preserving our military history should mean more than maintaining historic buildings and inviting people to visit them.

We should also respect the living connection between those buildings and the men and women who serve.

A question of government priorities

This brings me to a broader concern about government spending and priorities.

Prime Minister Albanese regularly speaks about the responsibilities and entitlements of his office. Yet I wonder whether our political leaders fully appreciate that the freedom and security they enjoy in that office were defended by generations of Australians who served this country.

If it were not for their sacrifices, would our political leaders enjoy the same freedoms, privileges and opportunities they have today?

The Prime Minister has access to The Lodge in Canberra and Kirribilli House in Sydney. These are publicly owned heritage properties, and I understand that official residences serve a purpose.

But when governments ask Australians to accept difficult financial decisions and look for savings, shouldn’t all areas of government expenditure be open to scrutiny?

Why is there so much attention on reducing costs associated with Defence properties and military heritage, while other areas of government expenditure and official entitlements should also be examined?

Why not consider whether selling or changing the use of an official residence such as Kirribilli House could be part of a broader discussion about government savings?

I recognise that such a proposal would involve practical and heritage considerations. My point is that no area of government spending should be beyond reasonable examination.

I am also concerned about waste and misuse of public funds, including within the NDIS. People who genuinely need disability support must be protected. At the same time, fraud and misuse must be addressed firmly, regardless of who is involved. Political sensitivities should never prevent proper scrutiny.

There are savings to be pursued across government. Veterans and Defence personnel should not be made to feel that their history, facilities and needs are among the easiest places to look for savings.

Nor do I think it is sufficient for the government to defend a decision by saying that previous governments did the same thing.

The Albanese Government is the government of the day. It is responsible for its own decisions, just as previous governments were responsible for theirs.

Leadership means taking responsibility, not simply pointing to the past.

Respect is demonstrated through actions, not speeches

I listened to the recent statements about Victoria Barracks, but I cannot separate those words from the decisions and remarks that came before them.

The way our military heritage has been discussed, the original proposal to sell the barracks and the continuing decision to relocate its military personnel have all contributed to my concerns.

I cannot speak for every veteran, but veterans and their organisations have publicly expressed their disappointment and concerns.

These are people who are expected to defend Australia, follow orders and put their lives at risk when called upon.

When they return home injured, traumatised or struggling with the consequences of their service, they should not feel that they are a burden or that their requests for assistance are simply complaints.

They should not have to fight another battle to receive the support they need.

We should be asking ourselves whether we are giving them the respect and care they deserve.

Why must our veterans turn to charity for help?

There is another question I cannot ignore.

We ask our men and women in uniform to put their lives on the line for Australia. We expect them to defend our country and accept the risks that come with military service.

But what happens when they return home physically or psychologically damaged, unable to work as they once did, or struggling to rebuild their lives?

Why do some veterans and their families have to turn to charities for basic assistance with accommodation, food, fuel and other essential needs?

I recently came across Wounded Heroes Australia, a national charity supporting current and former Australian Defence Force personnel, veterans and their families who are experiencing financial hardship, homelessness or other crises.

Its work includes emergency accommodation, food assistance, financial support and a 24-hour crisis service.

According to its website, the organisation assisted 5,803 veterans and families during 2025 and funded $589,300 in crisis support.

That is a considerable amount of assistance from a charitable organisation.

It is commendable that charities, volunteers and ordinary Australians step forward to help those who have served. Their generosity is important, and I would encourage readers to learn about the work being done.

But it also leaves me with an uncomfortable question.

Why should a veteran who sacrificed so much for Australia have to depend on charity to receive the help they need?

Shouldn’t the Australian Government, through the Department of Veterans’ Affairs and other appropriate services, ensure that those who have served receive timely and adequate support?

Charities can provide valuable emergency assistance, but they should not become a substitute for the government’s responsibility to look after its veterans.

I understand that not every situation can be resolved by government funding alone. However, when people who have served their country find themselves struggling to meet basic living expenses, we need to ask whether the support system is working as it should.

There should be no unnecessary delays, no indifference and no making veterans feel that they are asking for too much.

They have earned the right to be heard.

I would rather see our government take greater responsibility for veterans than leave charities and the generosity of the Australian public to fill the gaps.

How you can support our veterans

If you would like to support veterans and their families, I encourage you to visit Wounded Heroes Australia and learn about their work.

Wounded Heroes Australia

Website: https://www.woundedheroes.org.au/

Their 24-hour crisis support hotline is 1300 532 112.

You can learn more about their services, make a donation or find ways to support their work.

Every contribution can help provide practical assistance to a veteran or family experiencing hardship.

Remembrance Day should mean more than remembering

I sometimes wonder whether our political leaders fully appreciate the freedom they enjoy.

They can stand in Parliament, debate, disagree, criticise one another and make decisions about the future of this country. We, as Australians, can question our leaders, protest and express opinions, even when those opinions are unpopular.

I can write this reflection and question the government because I enjoy freedoms that generations before me helped defend.

But those freedoms were not simply handed to us.

Australians served in two World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan and many other conflicts and peacekeeping operations. Some never returned. Others came home carrying physical and emotional wounds. Their families also made sacrifices that are often overlooked.

Our political leaders, regardless of their party, benefit from those sacrifices.

I am not suggesting that veterans should be exempt from accountability or that Defence should be immune from necessary reform.

I am asking for fairness, consideration, gratitude and respect.

I do not expect governments to be perfect. I do expect leadership to come with responsibility and humility.

Remembrance Day should be more than a ceremony, a wreath or a minute’s silence. It should remind us of our obligations in the present.

A country should not be satisfied with remembering its veterans if it is not prepared to look after them.

To those who served Australia, to those wLetho returned home carrying the consequences of their service, to the families who waited and supported them, and to those who made the ultimate sacrifice, thank you.

May we never take your service for granted.

And may those entrusted with leading this country always remember the debt we owe you.

Lest we forget.

 

Inclusiveness in the Film Industry: Are We Telling New Stories or Rewriting Old Ones?

I’ve been thinking about what inclusiveness really means in the film industry.

Film and television have a powerful influence on how we see the world, including how we understand history, other cultures and ourselves. I’ve noticed a growing emphasis on what is often called wokeness in entertainment, and I sometimes wonder whether the industry’s approach to inclusiveness reflects what inclusion should really mean.

To me, genuine inclusiveness means giving people from different backgrounds opportunities to participate, tell their stories and have their cultures represented fairly. It means making room for different experiences, ideas and perspectives, particularly those that have been overlooked in the past.

But does inclusiveness mean changing the people and cultures within an established historical story to meet modern expectations?

I don’t believe it should.

What does inclusiveness really mean?

Inclusiveness is about deliberately including people from a wide range of backgrounds, especially those who might otherwise be excluded or marginalised, and treating them fairly.

It does not automatically mean changing documented historical events or presenting a historical setting in a way that differs substantially from the world in which the story originally took place.

I believe people from different backgrounds should have opportunities to work in film and television. Audiences should also be able to see a wide range of cultures, experiences and perspectives represented on screen.

Lately I have been wondering whether the emphasis on representation has become more about ticking boxes, meeting targets or satisfying award criteria than about creating meaningful stories.

When that happens, people risk being treated as categories rather than individuals. Representation can begin to feel artificial rather than genuine.

True inclusion should make room for everyone, but it should not mislead audiences about the history a production claims to portray.

When historical casting changes the story

In recent historical and period productions, we have seen actors from backgrounds that differ from those traditionally associated with the historical settings being portrayed.

One example is Helen of Troy in adaptations of Homer’s Iliad and related Greek mythology. Helen is described in ancient Greek poetry as leucoxenes, commonly translated as “white-armed”. This is a poetic description associated with female beauty in ancient Greek literature, although it should not be treated as definitive proof of her precise skin colour.

Nevertheless, when a production presents ancient Greek mythology in a recognisably historical setting, casting choices can affect how audiences imagine the people and society of that period.

A similar question arises with historical dramas set during the Russian Revolution. When a production depicts early twentieth-century Moscow, audiences may reasonably expect the characters and their surroundings to reflect the historical society being portrayed.

I am aware  that  not every production aims to recreate the past faithfully. Some deliberately reinterpret familiar stories, and creative casting can be part of that approach.

My concern is not that actors should be restricted to playing only people who share their own background. It is whether a production is clear about what it is trying to achieve.

There is a difference between saying, “This is a modern interpretation of an ancient story,” and presenting a production in a way that encourages viewers to believe they are seeing an accurate representation of history.

That distinction matters because film and television can shape our understanding of the past, particularly when viewers have little knowledge of the period.

Why not tell more stories?

I believe there is a better, more meaningful way to approach inclusiveness: tell more stories.

Rather than continually reshaping established historical narratives to meet modern expectations, why not invest in stories about cultures and communities whose experiences have too often been overlooked?

America, for example, could bring more Native American histories to the screen, with Indigenous characters at the centre of their own stories. There is also an extraordinary wealth of material in African American history, Asian cultures and the histories of Indigenous peoples around the world.

My own Greek heritage offers rich possibilities. The Byzantine era and the Greek War of Independence both helped shape the nation Greece is today. Australia also has a little-known connection to that struggle: a group of Greek sailors, convicted of piracy during the revolution, were transported to New South Wales. Stories like these could introduce audiences to fascinating histories they may never have encountered.

Australia’s Indigenous cultures also hold some of the world’s oldest and richest storytelling traditions. Stories grounded in the Dreaming offer immense creative possibilities, provided they are developed with the participation, guidance and authority of the communities to which they belong.

Moana showed that a story rooted in Polynesian culture could connect with a vast international audience. Viewers embraced a film that welcomed them into a cultural world many had not seen represented on screen before.

Why not build on that success?

There is enormous creative potential in exploring different histories, traditions, achievements and struggles. Audiences could discover unfamiliar worlds, while the people whose cultures are represented could have a stronger voice in shaping how those stories are told.

To me, that is inclusion at its most meaningful: not changing the people in someone else’s historical story to suit the present but creating genuine opportunities for more communities to tell stories of their own.

Creativity, history and artistic freedom

Inclusiveness in the Film Industry: Are We Telling New Stories or Rewriting Old Ones?

I am not arguing that every historical film must be a perfect reconstruction of the past. Nor do I believe actors should only ever play characters who look exactly as they would have looked in a particular historical setting.

Artists have always reimagined stories. Shakespeare adapted earlier works, myths have been retold across generations, and filmmakers are entitled to interpret familiar material in new ways.

But where is the line between creative interpretation and rewriting history?

When we look thousands of years into the past, we cannot know everything about how people lived. We reconstruct ancient civilisations from what has survived: ruins, pottery, coins, inscriptions, artwork, buildings, tools and fragments of written records.

Historians use this evidence to build the best possible understanding of people and cultures that existed long before us.

Film can help us imagine those worlds, but it can also blur our understanding of them.

I believe producers should be honest about what they are creating. If a production deliberately reimagines history, there is nothing wrong with making that intention clear. If it presents itself as a historically grounded story, then historical evidence should matter.

The past should not simply become an empty canvas on which we impose whatever the present would like it to look like.

Truthfulness and transparency matter, particularly when entertainment also serves as an informal source of historical knowledge.

Hollywood needs more original stories

Another concern I have is the apparent reliance on familiar franchises, remakes and reimagining.

I miss the films of earlier decades, such as The Sound of Music, Camelot and Singin’ in the Rain. They had their own distinctive settings, musical traditions and storytelling styles. I also remember films such as Schindler’s List, which told a harrowing story from the Second World War and carried a profound message.

These films are very different from one another, but each had a distinctive identity.

I sometimes wonder whether today’s emphasis on representation and established franchises has come at the expense of original storytelling. There are talented writers, actors and filmmakers from many backgrounds, yet I would like to see more opportunities for them to create something new rather than continually revisiting familiar properties.

There has been speculation over the years about changing James Bond’s gender or ethnic background. Ian Fleming created Bond as a particular character, with a specific identity and history.

Why not create a new spy franchise instead?

Imagine a compelling spy film centred on a woman, or a hero from a different cultural background, with their own history, motivations and world. Such a character could be just as interesting as James Bond without having to replace him.

That would give writers greater creative freedom and audiences something new to discover.

It would also allow established characters to retain their original identities while opening the door to a much wider range of stories.

To me, that is where genuine inclusiveness and creativity can work together.

Inclusion should make the storytelling world bigger

I do not oppose inclusiveness. I welcome opportunities for people from different backgrounds to participate in the film industry and share their experiences.

But I am concerned when inclusion appears to become a policy of representation rather than a commitment to meaningful storytelling.

People are more than labels, and cultures are more than categories. We should not assume that an actor’s background alone determines which stories they can tell, nor should we assume that every audience wants the same approach to representation.

What matters is giving talented people opportunities, respecting cultural differences and allowing a wider range of stories to reach the screen.

There is room for historical dramas, imaginative adaptations, fantasy and contemporary stories. These approaches do not have to compete with one another. The important thing is that audiences understand what they are watching and that filmmakers have the freedom to create something meaningful.

And perhaps respecting history, even when it is uncomfortable or unfamiliar, is itself a form of inclusion: inclusion of the people who lived it.

For me, the question is not whether everyone should be included. Of course they should.

The question is how we include people without reducing them to categories, ticking boxes or erasing the particularity of the stories, cultures and histories that already exist.

True inclusiveness should make the storytelling world bigger, not simply rewrite the stories that are already there.

It means telling new stories, supporting writers and filmmakers from different backgrounds, and allowing cultures to speak through their own histories and experiences.

If we want representation to be sincere, it must be guided by truth, creativity and respect, rather than simply by the desire to tick a box.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Do you enjoy seeing actors cast in historical roles when their backgrounds differ from the historical setting, or would you prefer to see more original stories that represent a wider range of cultures and experiences?

 

How We Are Distracted in the modern World

 Philippians 4:8

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."

Recently, I decided to tackle my room. Over the years, I’ve accumulated stack upon stack of books, handwritten notes, tax receipts, and cherished memorabilia I just can't bring myself to part with. Many of these books and notes have piled up since I retired, leaving my space feeling cluttered and untidy.

As I sifted through the shelves, I made an interesting discovery: I have had so many passions and interests over the years that I had completely forgotten about. Shelves filled with forgotten information on health, numerology, crystals, history,  Information Technology (IT),  religious and spiritual books waiting to be rediscovered. Stories, novels waiting to be read. It made me reflect: what has distracted and sidetracked me from these interests and stories? 

The answer, overwhelmingly, is technology. Platforms like Facebook and Instagram take up far too much of my time. More recently, Artificial Intelligence (AI) has shifted my habits even further. Where I once turned to books to learn and research, I now rely on AI for immediate answers.

While AI can be a helpful tool—a fast way to confirm ideas or discover new resources; it should not replace the experience of reading.

Social media, too, has evolved. While I use Facebook and Instagram for news and business growth, the constant sensationalism is hard to ignore. Modern technology has fundamentally changed how we consume information; people rarely pick up physical newspapers, magazines, or books anymore. I fondly remember the time when you could read stacks of old magazines in waiting rooms, or flip through them at hair salons while sitting under the dryer. I really enjoyed that era; it was a great way to catch up on articles from magazines I wouldn’t normally buy.

Returning to present day, what I see and feel is something I believe many others experience as well. Technology has become a source of disharmony, misrepresentation, and endless distraction, leaving us with very little time to simply sit quietly, think deeply and reflect.

We live in a landscape where misinformation, if repeated often enough, is accepted as truth. Proper debate is rare, and there is subtle pressure to conform to the dominant narrative, even when you disagree.

My solution is a return to balance. We could do this by:

• Read more offline: Reconnect with books, physical magazines, and longer-form writing, just like before technology took over.

• Minimise digital noise: Cut back on unnecessary screen time and passive scrolling.

• Connect deeply: Focus on real-world interactions and genuine human connection.

By stepping back from the screen, I can clear not just my room, but my mind—making space for thoughtful reading, real connection, and quiet reflection.

A Return to Balance

I have already begun bringing balance into my life, by  intentionally minimising digital noise. Instead of reaching for my phone, I spend time reading a book, reflecting, and writing in a notebook. I have found that my mind is less scattered, my thoughts are clearer, and the questions I ask myself are more focused.

I have also returned to one of my old notebooks, which has allowed me to look back on the issues that once troubled me and see whether I have resolved them. This has become a valuable form of private reflection at the end of each day.

Rather than journaling on my phone or typing on a computer, I now write by hand in a notebook. I find this much more personal and engaging. Writing by hand makes my reflections feel more meaningful and memorable, allowing my thoughts to settle more deeply and become part of my own understanding.

In modern day living what has been your distractions.  What do you do to sidetrack the distractions?  I love to hear from you . 

🌿 Reclaiming the Spirit of Wisdom

 From the 60s to Now: The Fade of Discernment and the Call to Wisdom

There was a time when demonstrations carried the fragrance of conscience, courage, and unity — a spirit that echoed through the streets, inviting the world to listen. In the 1960s, peaceful protest wasn’t about performance or division. It was about truth spoken with grace, often at great personal cost.

Think of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. leading marches for civil rights in the United States. Among those who stood beside him was the Greek Orthodox Archbishop Iakovos, defying expectations by walking alongside a Black Baptist preacher. This wasn’t about religious identity or politics — it was Sophia, the Divine Wisdom of Christian tradition, leaping across cultural divides to make herself practical.

This courageous action is the very embodiment of Binah, the understanding aspect of the Divine Feminine in Jewish mysticism.

If Sophia is the sudden, blinding flash of divine justice, Binah is the sacred matrix that gives it shape, structure, and a pair of walking shoes.

This force is not soft or abstract, but quietly courageous, deeply reflective, and grounded in right action. Binah doesn’t shout; she discerns. She listens. She takes the raw spark of Sophia’s wisdom, births it into the physical world, and sustains the march with patience and love.

From Sophia to the Streets: What Changed?

Fast forward to today. Something’s shifted — not just in Australia, but across the Western world. Protests still happen, but the spirit feels different. Gone is the tone of humility, the inner authority rooted in moral clarity. In its place, we often find anger masquerading as truth, celebrity over substance, and a narrative that divides rather than heals.

We see this tragic shift vividly in how our society processes collective trauma and terror. Consider the horrifying Bondi Beachmassacre in December 2025, where an antisemitic terrorist attack turned a peaceful “Chanukah by the Sea” celebration into a tragedy that claimed 15 innocent lives.  

While the majority of the population felt profound grief and concern, a deeply troubling element within society actively tried to downplay the slaughter. During subsequent reviews, those who gathered or attempted to speak up about the targeted violence faced swift intimidation and threats across social media. For many everyday citizens, it felt as though substantial sections of the mainstream media fell silent or glossed over these compounding injustices, leaving the burden of speaking out to select independent voices like 2GB or Sky News.

When those who demand justice for victims of an antisemitic massacre are aggressively labelled as "racist" simply for speaking up, true justice is subverted. It stands in jarring, painful contrast to the streets being filled with highly disruptive contemporary demonstrations — where public spaces are blocked for prayers in the middle of political marches. This display is a world away from the unifying, respectful ethos of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. leading marches alongside Archbishop Iakovos.

Take also the Harbour Bridge protest in Sydney, which was heavily promoted as a “March for Humanity.” On the surface, it echoed the calls of past justice movements. But if you looked closer, stark contradictions emerged:

• Aggressive Rhetoric: Some protesters chanted threats like “destroy the bridge” — on the very infrastructure they claimed to march across for peace.
• Extremist Imagery: Banners displayed photos of known terrorists — yet this was heavily downplayed by political figures who later claimed they “didn’t see it.”
• Selective Empathy: Not a single word was uttered about the hostages being brutally held by Hamas at that time. No yellow ribbons. No calls for their safe return. Just a cold, calculated silence.

This is not Sophia. This is not Binah. It’s not even compassion.

Celebrities and the Death of Discernment

Another troubling trend is the increasing reliance on actors and influencers to shape public thought. Whether it’s net-zero policies, global conflicts, or truth-telling in politics — we’re increasingly told what to think by faces trained to perform, not to lead.

This sends a subtle but dangerous message: that the average person can’t be trusted to think, and that moral clarity can be outsourced to a PR campaign. In contrast, the great movements of the past trusted the people. They encouraged discernment, not division.

The “Woke” Spiritual Guard

In Australia today, there’s a noticeable shift: traditional religions, especially Christianity and Judaism, are increasingly sidelined — while “spirituality,” as long as it remains vague, non-confrontational, and palatable, is celebrated.

• Selective Respect: In many Western circles, Christianity is often mocked or dismissed, while Eastern or Indigenous spiritualities are respected, even idealised.
• Quiet Exclusion: At events such as the Mind Body Spirit Festival, this contrast became glaringly obvious. A Jewish healer was initially excluded due to her Jewish identity — a decision only reversed after public protests raised concerns about antisemitism. The question remains: why exclude her in the first place? The reversal appeared to be a form of damage control; without public pressure, this quiet form of discrimination would have gone unchecked. Sadly, antisemitism today often operates in these subtle, socially tolerated ways.
• Political Inconsistency: Politicians often identify with faith to appeal to certain voters, but avoid acknowledging it during formal, historic occasions. When Prime Minister Anthony Albanese was sworn into office, he chose a secular affirmation rather than taking an oath on the Bible, explaining that a Prime Minister should represent people of all faiths. While this may appear inclusive, it raises deeper questions about authenticity. If he publicly identifies as Catholic, why avoid expressing that identity during such a significant milestone? Meanwhile, former Prime Ministers like Tony Abbott and Scott Morrison faced intense public criticism for openly expressing their Christian faith.

There seems to be an unspoken rule in the general public: religious expression is only welcome when it fits the dominant cultural narrative. Otherwise, it is labelled problematic or inappropriate.

• The Shield of Labels: Criticism of groups like Hamas is often quickly labelled as “Islamophobia,” while the violent acts committed by the same group are overlooked or excused.
• Politicised Truth: “Truth-telling” has become weaponised — used more to divide than to heal. What could be an invitation to reconciliation becomes a narrative of blame, separating people into strict categories of “us” and “them.”

This climate reflects a loss of deeper spiritual discernment. It is far removed from Binah — the Divine Understanding that sees beyond surface labels and embraces nuance, context, and inner truth. It also distorts the essence of Sophia — Christ’s wisdom — who is not only compassionate but clear, not only gentle but discerning. True wisdom does not cancel, silence, or polarise. It integrates, reveals, and guides with both love and truth.

A Christian Reflection on Wisdom

In Christian tradition, Sophia (Wisdom) is seen as an attribute of Christ, described in the book of Proverbs and the Psalms as the one who stood beside God during creation. In the Orthodox liturgy, before the Gospel is read, the priest cries out:

“Σοφία! Ορθοί!” — Wisdom! Let us stand aright!

It is a call to sharp attention. Not just to hear the Word, but to receive it with humility, stillness, and openness. Christ did not coerce; He invited. He didn’t cancel; He transformed.

True Wisdom is never loud or trendy. She invites the soul into silence, discernment, and integrity. In both Jewish and Christian thought, wisdom builds up. It doesn’t tear down.

The Bigger Picture: A Global Phenomenon

The loss of balance we’re seeing isn’t unique to Australia. As goes America, so go many other Western nations. Movements that began with a vital, necessary message have quickly hardened into rigid us-and-them ideologies.

Dialogue has become dangerous. Forgiveness is treated as betrayal. Justice is regularly confused with mere punishment. Social media algorithms compound this by rewarding outrage over insight, leaving people afraid to speak—or worse, repeating scripts they don’t believe just to stay "on the right side of history."

But what if the right side of history is actually the side of wisdom — quiet, firm, and completely overlooked?

A Call to Return

Now, more than ever, we need Binah — true understanding. We need Sophia — divine and human wisdom, made practical. We need discernment over division, and spiritual depth over shallow activism.

Let us return to what was sacred in the spirit of the 60s — not just the aesthetics of protest, but the inner fire of righteousness, deeply rooted in love, clarity, and humility.

The Power of a Single Step

It is easy to look at the vast landscape of cultural division and feel entirely overwhelmed. We wonder how a single voice can cut through the noise of algorithms, or how quiet discernment can stand against the roar of the crowd.

But history reminds us that major shifts rarely begin with a multitude. They begin with individuals who refuse to compromise their inner truth. The monumental march in Selma didn’t start at the destination; it began with a single, courageous step forward by people who chose clarity over comfort.

Real change does not require us to match the volume of the world. It asks us to change the cadence of our own stride. When we choose to listen instead of shout, to seek context instead of passing judgment, and to speak truth with grace rather than anger, we are taking that step. We become the matrix through which Binah and Sophia can move.

You do not need to alter the entire cultural landscape tomorrow. You only need to align your next step with wisdom.

A Biblical Anchor

In a world that demands we rush to the frontlines of every loud and trendy grievance, Scripture offers a different path — a reminder that the path of the righteous is built on steady, divinely directed steps.

As the Psalmist beautifully captured:

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way.” — Psalm 37:23

When we allow our steps to be ordered by Divine Wisdom rather than cultural pressure, we find a firm footing. Let us stand aright, move with humility, and trust that even the smallest step taken in love and truth has the power to reshape the world.

Further trading 

1: https://colourawareness.blogspot.com/2026/01/when-world-feels-too-loud-and-god-feels.html

When Spiritual Teachers Disappoint: Returning to What Is Steady

I recently reflected on a post about feeling disillusioned with modern spiritual teachers. It resonated deeply with me, because I have walked that path myself.

There was a time when I was drawn to authors like Doreen Virtue, a former New Age teacher who later embraced Christianity; Marianne Williamson, a spiritual writer and political activist; and Caroline Myss, a medical intuitive and author on personal empowerment. I was searching for something mystical, something beyond ordinary explanations of life, and their words spoke to that longing.

But over time, something shifted.

Spiritual teachers are human. They are not God. Some grow in humility and depth, while others may drift toward certainty that feels rigid or disconnected from the quiet spirit they once expressed.

When Doreen Virtue converted to Christianity, that did not trouble me — conversion is personal. What unsettled me was her criticism of Christian mysticism, particularly Orthodox mysticism, and what felt to me like quoting Scripture without its fuller context. I try not to judge her path. Still, I had to discern what was right for mine. Later, when she described her earlier work as influenced by darkness, I quietly let those books go — not in anger, but to protect my spiritual clarity.

With Marianne Williamson, I have a different experience. I still find insight in her writing, though I sometimes sense tension between spiritual language and political expression. I hold both appreciation and caution together.

With Caroline Myss, I feel something steadier. Even if I might disagree politically at times, I sense integrity — that she largely lives what she teaches. That congruence matters.

Living through disillusionment — whether with spiritual leaders, politicians, public figures, or even a local priest — has taught me something important: no human leader is infallible. Only Christ is steady.

My faith is grounded in Christ and in the life of the Eastern Orthodox Church, where we are constantly reminded of human imperfection. My mother often reminded me of this when I became critical of leaders or clergy: they are human.

Disillusionment, for me now, is no longer a crisis. It is an invitation.

In the Orthodox tradition, mysticism is not about ego or personal light. It is about grace — God working within the heart through humility and repentance. Saints like Gregory Palamas, a Byzantine theologian and mystic, taught that inner transformation is participation in God’s uncreated light — not our own brilliance.

This understanding is shared across the wider Christian tradition. In the Catholic Church, mystical saints such as Saint Teresa of Avila, a Carmelite mystic, and Saint Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits and spiritual guide, show that authentic mysticism is disciplined, discerning, and deeply Christ-centred. Their experiences were never about elevating themselves. They were about surrender — allowing God to purify the heart.

True mysticism, whether Eastern or Western, does not inflate the ego. It humbles it.

Public figures change. Spiritual movements shift. Political leaders rise and fall. Even priests can disappoint.

But my walk with Christ does not rise or fall with any one personality.

I am learning to stay anchored.

To grow quietly.

To pray more and react less.

To stop placing human beings on pedestals they were never meant to stand on.

Disillusionment has become a teacher. It strips away idealism, but it also deepens faith.

Because when the personalities fall away, Christ remains.

And that is steady ground.

Perhaps the deeper question is this: When the people we admire disappoint us, where do we ultimately place our trust?

Further Reading

If you enjoyed this reflection you might also like this:

When the World Feels Too Loud, and God Feels Too Quiet