The Writings of Michael Leunig

Whenever I am feeling like I am losing connection with the deeper, spiritual, divine part of life I turn to Michael Leunig, one of Australia's living treasures.   Leunig is well known for his whimsical and insightful cartoons, but perhaps slightly less well known for his writing.

Over the months to come I will share some of what I think are his most inspired writings for your contemplation.

The first is from "The Curly Pyjama Letters".   These letters are a small fragment of the vast correspondence known to have taken place between lone voyager Vasco Pyjama and his friend and mentor Mr Curly of Curly Flat.

It is generally accepted, that Mr Curly still lives somewhere by the shores of Lake Lacuna near Curly Flat where, amongst other pursuits, he is actively and passionately absorbed in matters of horticulture, birdwatching, music and winemaking.  His wines from the Curly Flat vineyard are legendary for the gentleness, cheerfulness and lyricism of their intoxication.  Domestic contentment and ease with the natural world appear to be Mr Curly’s major attributes or achievements – but not at the expense of an expressive and spirited personal style.

Vasco Pyjama probably started his life in Curly Flat, where the great friendship began, but his searching and restless nature has compelled him into his great voyage of discovery – the circumnavigation of his own world.  In the company of his direction-finding duck (a sort of living compass which, according to Vasco, ‘always points towards new joys’), he has left his home and wandered far and wide into his uncharted world, risking, finding, enjoying and observing much.  He is clearly the more troubled and vulnerable of the two; more easily shaken and bruised; more prone to self-doubt, disillusionment or spiritual intoxication – and perhaps possessed of a lonelier, more ecstatic vision.  

Here is a letter from Vasco, clearly disturbed by the current state of the world, to his friend Mr Curly; 

Dear Mr Curly,
 I hope you are well.   I’m still wandering far and wide, looking at the world, and now I realise and sort of accept that I am observing and am part of a world which is dying.    This is certainly a sad understanding and seems to imply that life is not worth living but, strangely, that is not how I feel.   The vital question now seems to be- shall our dear old earth die badly or well?   This matters, I think, and seems to be worth working with and struggling with:  how do we attend the dying earth?   It seems peculiar to be grieving about a death which has not yet occurred and very confusing to mourn ahead of time but this seems a wise and proper thing to learn about because there will be no possibility of a requiem after the event; no fine words or music, and no tears – all those things which can help make sense of death and sweeten it.   Perhaps, little by little, we can start doing this already: perhaps a cheerful vase of daffodils can also be, sometimes, a small wreath.    We need to be careful however – and gentle too because what bothers me most is the feelings of the innocent children.   Their hearts are not ready for such burdens.   So how do we proceed with them?    How do we be with them?   I must say that when I am amongst them I can only feel that all shall be well and I accept this happiness as a simple pleasure, but when they depart I grow troubled and sad.

How we have wallowed too deeply in the history of man’s inhumanity to man – the endless stories of “who did what to whom” and how little we have known or cared or understood about man’s cruel persecution of nature, the animals and the earth.   Already the holocaust is well in motion and, as with the approaches of all those other great tragedies and holocausts – even when the writing is on the wall – we act as if the worst is not going to happen.   In the light odf this, Curly, I ask you as I ask myself each morning, “WHAT IS WORTH DOING AND WHAT IS WORTH HAVING?”
 These are big questions and I am curious about your answers.    I look forward to hearing from you.  

For the time being I have my faith and I am doing what I can.
Your cheerfully and entirely seriously

Vasco Pyjama xxx

We will publish Mr Curly's reply in due course.  

In the meantime, it would be a worthy thing to contemplate the questions Vasco poses:   “WHAT IS WORTH DOING AND WHAT IS WORTH HAVING?”

And if you feel sufficiently moved, why not share your thoughts and feelings in the comments section below.

StJohn