Vale Michael Leunig

Gratitude and Grief

Like many around the country and the world, I am writing with a heavy and sad heart at the news of the passing of the poet, writer, philosopher, artist and cartoonist, Michael Leunig. Here in Australia he was declared a ‘national living treasure’ for his unique contributions to our national culture. As I came to know him personally, I was fortunate enough to get a personal glimpse of the many treasures that he held in his heart. I am also extremely blessed that he gifted me this image for the cover of Untangling you: How can I be grateful when I feel so resentful?

I had been reading Michael’s work and admiring his art for decades, and this is what took me to my first meeting with him in the flesh about eight or so years ago. I was at his closing address for a Tasmanian Writers’ Festival and afterwards my friend Kathryn and I bought his latest book (we already had so many) lining up to get it signed and hopefully get the chance to talk to him. When it was our turn we seemed to revert to being two heady teenagers and I said something cheesy like, “Michael we just want to bottle you up and take you home with us”. With his characteristic cheeky and wry smile, he said, “Well, I haven’t got anyone to share dinner with tonight so would you like to join me?” As Kathryn and I looked shocked, nodding our heads and rather lost for words, three women behind us said, “oh, we would like to come too”.

So Michael joined this band of adoring Hobart women as we wandered down to the waterfront and, at his request, settled on fish and chips. I wanted everyone to stop and stare as they would any other celebrity, but most were unaware that this great soul was in our midst. As the young waitress casually took Michael’s order and said “thanks love”, I wanted to shake her and shout joyfully “don’t you know who this is?”

But these reactions were also in large part because of Michael’s unassuming nature. He didn’t want to stand on ceremony or fame, or to be adored as more special than anyone else. All through our three hours together that evening, he just wanted to know about us, and kept deflecting questions that way. I remember listening to a radio interview some years ago where the broadcaster really wanted to praise him and talk about all his achievements and his greatness. Michael quickly changed the subject to the volunteer fire-fighters who climbed a big hill near his home in country Victoria, in the middle of the summer heat, and stayed up there for hours looking for any signs of smoke. They are the real heroes he insisted.

Michael had an uncompromising humility and I believe this was the hidden source of his huge inspiration.

That night also brought us up close to his compassion for the plight of humanity and its everyday suffering as he spoke about his concerns for the world. He felt deeply for the far too many lonely and disenfranchised. He was visibly distressed by the way humans inflict so much needless hurt on each other – a constant theme in much of his work. “This is why I prefer ducks to people”, he dropped into our conversation, like a drop of gold.

When I talked about some of my own existential anxiety that keeps me awake in the early morning, he immediately said, “oh I have a cartoon about that”. I tracked it down later.

The next day, with barely a wink of sleep with the excitement of it all, I was off to my university to do a full day of teaching in the Master of Teaching program. What was I to say to my students? Can I really teach as usual after what seemed to be this life-changing moment? I decided to let them in on the excitement. Although many wanted to share my joy, as I uttered Leunig’s name some looked at me with blank faces. A couple of mainland Chinese students looked particularly bewildered. I remember wondering at that moment, would they ever have the luxury of experiencing a Shakespearean fool like Michael Leunig who is able to cut through so many layers of pretence and corruption to hold up the mirror and help us look anew (and even aghast) at ourselves and the world?

And yet, in a country like Australia where we are supposed to value free speech and democracy, and are seemingly blessed to be able to speak our truth, Michael himself has been angrily sidelined on a number of occasions, just for doing what he perceived to be his job: to portray what he saw was true; to give the unheard or the minority a voice, even if this was controversial at times. The ridicule and shaming he received on a number of occasions – oh, and the death threats in the mail – deeply distressed and disappointed him. He was even more confused as to why some questioned so vehemently what he thought was his role in society.

My second class on the day after I met Michael had me already filled with worry in anticipation for what I was supposed to teach: a new software program upon which the students could design a fancy ‘e-portfolio’. I had dutifully done the compulsory course on it, and prepared what I was going to say. About five minutes into the class, I experienced something I had never experienced before in the two decades of my teaching career. I froze. My whole being just refused to proceed. I had to be honest as I confessed to my students, “I am so sorry, but I just can’t teach this”. A lovely student who must have had a sense of what was going on before I did, said, “Oh don’t worry Kerry, you are just having a Leunig moment”. He then got up and offered to teach the class, and did so brilliantly.

Not only was this a Leunig moment because of our mutual abhorrence at how technology has the ability to take over our lives and diminish us in so many ways, but also because he and his work have made me feel safe to make mistakes, to be vulnerable, to have contradictions, to be human. His presence somehow also evoked a kind of love of the irreverent and mischievous.

I have had many such Leunig moments since this time. And on numerous occasions when I feel out of my depth, or emotionally fragile, I have been soothed and validated just by picking up one of my many Leunig books and finding a cartoon or poem that speaks so clearly and poignantly straight to my heart. At other times they prod me to reflect, and realise there’s something I haven’t attended to.

There is a tone, a tune, to Leunig’s work that says it’s okay to be outside the norm, and then to feel sad, angry, lost, bewildered, and to feel it all, and be grateful for it. This is often joined by a chorus that pleads with us to find our answers in nature, in what we have in common in our shared humanity, and in going back to the simple things in life.

I was lucky enough to share other times with Michael and a lovely friendship developed over the years. We both shared an interest in the power of gratitude and this is where our conversations would often go. Michael loved gratitude. He evoked its ability to help us transcend the material in search of something beyond. This was often inherent in his many prayer-like poems, like this lovely one:

We give thanks

We give thanks for places of simplicity and peace.
Let us find such a place within ourselves.
We give thanks for places of refuge and beauty.
Let us find such places within ourselves.
We give thanks for places of nature's truth and freedom of joy,
inspiration and renewal, places where all creatures may find
acceptance and belonging. Let us search for these places in
the world, in ourselves, and in others.
Let us restore them. Let us strengthen and protect them
and let us create them. May we mend this outer world
according to the truth of our inner life
and may our souls be shaped and nourished
by nature's eternal wisdom.

Amen

A few years ago Michael was part of a show with the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra and Katy Noonan, called ‘Gratitude and Grief’. Only he could so effortlessly show us how these two seemingly contradictory emotions could sit side by side, and intertwine. Today, I am deeply grieving the passing of my friend and the loss of such a unique force for truth, goodness and beauty in the world. Michael, I am grateful beyond measure for what you have given to the world and left us for generations to come in your huge body of magnificent work. I am so enriched and thankful for your transformative presence in my life. I am deeply grateful to you as a human being who held so much humility, courage, decency, kindness and unwavering care for humanity.