Lessons from India 

I have been home for just over a week. Every day, it becomes more apparent to me that something deep inside of me has shifted. In some ways, I almost feel like I have recaptured the enthusiasm/idealism/passion of my younger years. In my twenties I possessed a fighting and partying spirit. I had formed a community of like minds around me, and I felt purposeful. 

I have also lost my patience for shit. In all of its forms. My soul is crying out for difference and I need to nurture this. 

The most significant place this is appearing is at work. And I knew I would struggle with school after being in India.

I have always believed that education solves problems. It saved my life by providing me with opportunities to escape and break a cycle of dysfunction (even though some may argue I am still dysfunctional lol). I see similar attitudes outside of the privileged west. And, so, it kills me when I see education and opportunity taken for granted. Ask my kids, they’ll tell you I’m not lying. 

And, all hell broke loose yesterday when I stood on chewing gum that transferred itself to my dress, my beautiful dress. I screamed the block down, somewhat humorously, but the frustration was real. How selfish must one be to spit gum on the ground when there are bins everywhere! 

I’ve lost my ability to put on a mask or play ‘the’ game. 

I’m playing my own. This is who I am. The real me. A crusader for ‘right’. 

It’s been 39 weeks since I found out I was under investigation. For the most part these days, I am okay. However, it doesn’t take much to trigger a relapse of sorts. In fact, now that I am consciously reflecting, it’s been a massive week, beyond just going back to work, jet lag and illness. Significant shifts. The reinforcement of lessons. 

On Wednesday, I was concerned for the welfare of one of my students, and as a result I referred her, correctly, to the Learning Support Team (Year Advisot and Counsellor too), and I informed the parents of my concern, so that they could keep an eye on her at home. I documented all of this. Our LST Co-ordinator jumped on it straight away. She and I had a conversation to clarify what could and could not happen immediately. Perfect. 

However, last period of the day and I am on class, knock on the door and I am asked to have a word outside. The person asks me to speak to them privately before I leave for the day. My body reacts like it did 38 weeks and 6 days before when a different person had a very similar conversation with me, and I walked back into my classroom, filled with anxiety and dread. I had only been back at work for three days, who could I have possibly offended in such a short time! Like, WTF! 

And, so I went to speak to the person. The parents had contacted the school and this person was blind sided. It isn’t our process to notify the person I failed to notify. And I had a small window to operate in because I was teaching four periods and Head Teacher on duty the rest of the day – I only had ninety minutes off. That was when I referred the student. I apologised profusely, and genuinely; I do not like causing other people pain. 

But, upon reflection, I became indignant. I did my job. I followed process. I shouldn’t have been spoken to. It’s ridiculous. And, ego driven. This is not my future. 

The child was happier on Thursday. And I have lost considerable respect for a lot of things. I cannot tolerate a lack of humility and integrity. We need to know ourselves as adults, and function accordingly. I can’t abide people in positions of power who do not know themselves. Effective leadership never extends from ego. 

This isn’t rocket science. 

Yep, still angry. Lol. 

And then yesterday, another student needed support. Followed the process. More ego unleashed. And I wonder why education is so troubled at the moment. Again, though, child will receive support. So ultimately, two wins this week. Yes, I am needed in education. But, it isn’t what I need any longer. 

I am valuable. I am beautiful. I am deserving. I am of the divine. I am worth something, everything. 

These are my lessons from India. Thank you to my soul sisters and Richard for empowering me to integrate these lessons. These are the lessons for all of us. If we aren’t being respected, valued, adored, then we need to move to an environment where we are. We all deserve abundance and prosperity and soul bliss (thank you Alana and Lakshmi).

Simple. Trust it. 

PS. I am writing letters tomorrow. My fight continues. I never want someone else to have to endure what I have endured this year. It is criminal. 

But today, well, today is my day. Gardening, decluttering, feeding my soul. Being in my bliss. Being home. In my head, my heart, my soul, my location. Yep, today is my day. 

Oh, and I have decided my next tattoo. Lakshmi. 

My Resolutions

Wow! Home. 

There is absolutely nothing to rival that feeling of flying over Sydney Harbour and seeing the Bridge and the Opera House, Anzac Bridge and Centrepoint. My soul smiles every time I fly home and see the harbour; the most beautiful city in the world, especially from the sky. It’s home. And a beautiful symbol of home. 

And then, I heard Australian accents, and saw people who looked like my cultural group. It’s such a bizarre feeling. For the last few days at least, I have been the only westerner I’ve had significant contact with. Bizarre to be surrounded by similar voices, similar appearances, similarities. 

I finished Jodi Picoult’s Small Great Things whilst I waited for my flight in Delhi Airport. I don’t know where I found the resolve to hold back so many tears. It was appropriate for me to read it in a place where I was a minority and not the dominant cultural group. A place where my white privilege didn’t really count for much in the way of belonging and acceptance. I do not know what it consistently feels like to be an outsider, but I’ve had a taste. It feels unsafe. And I have forced myself to confront my own racism, and my inappropriate and ignorant racist humour. Shame. 

Mum took a photo of me as I walked out of the gate. I had to laugh. I have gained and learned so much that I feel like I’ve been gone for months. And I was so intent on laughing, I didn’t see my sister. Phenomenal surprise and blessing. 

My ankle’s swelling is down but it is painful. I think it will be a visit to the doctor and an x-ray on Monday afternoon. 

My fur children were as excited to see me as I was them. Molly (my cat) slept enfolded in my arms all night. Max on the other side. Sammy let me sleep until 7. This is my home, my family, what counts. 

I have learned so much. I am still processing but there are some things I need to immortalise before reality attempts to defeat me 😉. 

I really need to make time to do the things that bring me joy. This means work needs to be the thing that pays the bills. 

My mum said that I’ve lost weight. People said the same thing when I returned from NYC. It’s the weight of stress that has moved. My job no longer brings me joy and as a result, I gain weight because I make bad choices and don’t put my joy first. Massive lesson. 

I need to write more. Not just my blog, but the novel’s I have started and am yet to start. 

I want to start a charity for the school in India. That visit impacted me so deeply. Mel and I have talked. She has talked to her people. I’m going to talk to mine. This needs to happen. 

I want to run groups for healing. That is the direction I wish to move my life into. I also want to run meditation groups. 

I want to feel deeply entrenched purpose through service; serving myself as much as I serve others. That will sustain my joy. 

This is what I desire. 

This is what I will work towards achieving. 

🙏🏻 namaste 

Thank you India. Thank you Alana. 

A Divine Closing

Our time together has ended. Mel and I are on the plane to Delhi, where I will stay overnight before heading to Dharamsala, and Mel will continue home. There have been more than a few tears. And there will be more. 

I packed last night so that I wouldn’t feel the pressure of having to this morning. I relaxed through breakfast with Lynn, Michelle, Jade and Mel; my original tribe excepting Elizabeth. Bliss. 

I picked up my dress and shawl. Beautiful. Even though the shawl had to be sent back to the tailor for cutting and overlocking. 

Then to our last group session, our closing of the retreat. I am misting up just writing that. This time last week we did not know each other. Now, bonds have been forged that will withstand physical limitations and limited communication, if any. Our hearts have blended and entwined, locked together in memory of this transformational and magical week.

The most bizarre thing, which will possibly sound wanky, is that those we connected with, we connected with at a very deep level. And very quickly. There is an easiness in our contact, our love for one another, and our ability to communicate it. It is very much a soul blessing and a soul kiss. 

The energy in the ritual of closing as we retrieved our items from the altar grew larger. When I retrieved my item, a pendant, it was pulsing and hot. My hands grew hot just holding it. And that heat coursed through my entire body shooting out into the room and into the earth, far below us. Complete and unconditional love and acceptance. 

Namaste 🙏🏻

Hugs of goodbye; tight and enduring. 

And, a mad rush for the airport. And time stops temporarily. Something happens in airports. Waiting seems to force time to stop so that you are shocked when all of a sudden it is 2 o’clock. 

My sprained ankle is up. There is no one next to me. The snack has been had. Water consumed. Bladder filling. 

Recommendation: do not use the toilets at Varanasi Airport. Ooh, and if you are female, account for extra time going through the security checkpoints. 

Why, you ask. Because women’s needs fall second to the needs of men here. 

There is no judgement from me. We are each of us on our journey, as is each culture and country. India has achieved some things so much better than Australia, and the rights of women have progressed from what they once were, but India is still very much a patriarchy. So, leave extra time for security clearance. 

The Danger of Labels 

I was shy as a child. I was shy, unless drunk, in my twenties. I said I was shy in my thirties, and I believed it. I have said I am shy in my forties, but it’s no longer true. I was told I was fat as a child. I was told I was fat as a teenager. I was not fat, not as a child and not as a teenager. I am now. 

I call myself ugly. This isn’t true. Even though I am fat. 

Labels are dangerous. They limit us. They hinder us from fulfilling our fullest potential. Even positive labels. I am a good person. But I can be a cranky cow. If you believe I am only a good person, you won’t accept me when I’m not. 

The labels we put on ourselves are the most damaging. I have let, I’m quite sure, my labels define me, and define my life choices.

I was unworthy, undeserving, unlovable. 

All garbage. And, as a result, I didn’t believe that I was worthy, deserving and lovable. 
I am. 
I am perfect in my imperfection. 

And, so are you. 
Today we welcomed and explored Lakshmi Shakti. We honoured ourselves collectively and individually as priestesses of Lakshmi. We started cleansing our shame. 

The group connectedness and energy here is palpable. We are a mighty group of women, empowering ourselves here whilst immersed in a culture that does not offer the same to all of our sisters. 

The individual connections I have made here are inspiring in their illumination of what is possible. Today we embraced our voices. We sang our song. Literally and metaphorically. Today, healing became conscious. 
I forgive myself for labeling myself. 

I forgive myself for self-imposed limitations as a result of the labels. 

I forgive myself for everything that I failed to do as a result of the limitations of the labels. 
I forgive me. 
I will not let me be silenced by labels, arbitrary rules or by others any more. 

For over 34 weeks I have been under investigation for allegedly failing to report the alleged misconduct of others. I have been shackled and made voiceless. This shackling triggered memories of childhood dysfunction and abuse. It brought back childhood shame. It breathed fire into dormant feelings of not being enough. 

And for thirty four weeks I have struggled because a system is telling me that who I am, a warrior woman, is not allowed to be. 

Today, I have reclaimed my voice. 

Today, I am me. 

I forgive myself. I forgive the system. I forgive those that enforce the system. 

And I have faith that all is as it should be. And that all that is meant to be, will be. 
Thank you to my new friends, Mel and Rayleigh, for allowing me to find the words. And to Alana, for the opportunity in sacred space to heal. 


The only thing I was nervous about, in coming to India for this retreat, was not making connections with people. 


The flight to Varanasi from Delhi was smooth. Only an hour and a half – I can do that. I even start to like flying again. I knew I wouldn’t be the only one on that flight heading for the retreat. And I wasn’t wrong. I even guessed them correctly. 

And it’s so funny, because at first I was very hesitant with them. Now, eight hours later I feel that we were all connected well before we started. The depth of connection you can make with fellow travellers is nothing short of awe inspiring. Especially in terms of how quickly those connections are cemented. Maybe because we are on shortened time. We pack a lifelong friendship into a significantly reduced time. And you don’t have the realities of normal life. 

There are thirty four of us; thirty participants. Most of us felt called to India, to this retreat with Alana Fairchild. 

I’m jumping. 

The trip from the airport to Hotel Surya took about half an hour. A trip that revived memories of Nepal. Initially in Nepal, the driving, noise, difference was quite intimidating. Seeing it in India, wiser and more travelled, enabled me to see the rhythmic magic in the flow of it all. The beauty and grace in the established patterns of life here, somehow lacking the austerity of life in the western world. There is a freedom here that we do not permit ourselves to have. Here, they just go about doing what has to be done; in our world, we are too busy sticking to arbitrary rules to feel this freedom. The natural dance of living thrives here. 

In the garbage on the road. In the dog’s roaming freely. In the cow that chooses to sit in the middle of the road, reverently. In the continual honking of horns; dogs, people, cows, bikes, motorcycles, trucks – all dancing to the same ostinatoed beat. 

The government decided to build a six laned road to cater for the traffic between the airport and Varanasi center. The people have been relocated by the government. The fronts of shops and houses in the way of the new road have just been demolished to the point that they were in the way. I cannot describe what it looks like and do the reality justice. It needs to be seen. 

We were escorted to our rooms. I unpacked. Debated napping and decided to explore the grounds. Found the swimming pool and my new found friends. Had a drink with one and met another. 

Then went to our first workshop. 

That will need to be a post on its own. 



My room is top floor last on the right in the bottom photo. 

The Right Path For Whatever Reason

I’ve been absent from my blog. I have kept up my gratitude every day but chose to stop posting it. It’s important to me but highly likely, boring to others hehe. And I’ve been processing everything in my life leading up to this full moon.

I bought the car. I now drive the car. I zip around like I’m in my twenties again lol. The purchase came with some grieving to do though. I initially bought the Tiguan because I was going to have a few kids and be a soccer mum, so we needed the space. Saying goodbye was hard. Intellectually I know that I’m not going to be a birth mum. However, I didn’t realise that there was a part of me still holding on to the dream. And so many people in my life are always pregnant. It’s hard. 

I am in the process of moving towards acceptance that pregnancy is the one that got away from me, and that is okay. My life is fertile in many other ways. 

I run my first series of workshops, starting Tuesday week. And there are people interested, which to be honest, terrifies and excites me all in the one breath. 

Such a huge step for me. Seeing myself as a healer rather than a teacher. Those labels start to do more than just identify us. Sometimes we become so safe inthe definition that we think that is all that there is to us. 

Starting my business is me giving myself permission to be more than a label or definition. I feel that I am finally ready to embrace all of me and accept that I am valuable in my entirety. 

And I believe I’m fulfilling my destiny. I’m open, I’m willing to receive, and I’m willing to work hard. 

I consider myself to have trust issues; I’ve always defined myself that way. Damaged childhood, damaged adult. At the workshop with Alana Fairchild yesterday, rather than feel confronted and anxious by a trust activity with people I do not know, I felt energised and truly excited. People had to touch me to stop me from falling, and I didn’t care. I felt safe within my core; no one could hurt me therefore I could trust because I was trusting myself and the universe (God energy or however you regard it). 

It was amazing. Soul inspiring. A measure of my real growth and real comfort with who I am. I also didn’t feel shy. A little reserved in some activities, but not shy. I think I oozed confidence. 


And listening to Alana’s story, I felt that I am making the right decisions for my life. This business will be a growing process and I must be patient, and trusting that even if it doesn’t work out, the journey is the valuable piece in my life’s puzzle. I am where I am supposed to be. 

Throughout the meditations yesterday I saw an Amazonian warrior dancing in grass. I need to google it. She kept appearing. If anyone knows what that could embody, please let me know. Amazon rainforest not oversized women Amazons. 

A Conspiring Universe

Just sometimes you can see or feel the universe at work. Just sometimes, and when you do, it is magical. 

My anxiety has been up this week, quite significantly. Every moment, every conversation, every decision, has been agonizing. 

I have a new found understanding of what suffering with anxiety is like. I do not wish it on anyone. Mostly because it is debilitating and/or exhausting depending on how hard you fight it. And either way, because it steals your life from you. I’m working and for the most part, I’m functioning at work, but my life is gone. 

I can’t do both. 

And the resolution I had hoped would come before the holidays, allowing me to recover and reconnect, has not come. 

I have, at least, another two to three weeks of uncertainty ahead of me. And my fear is that the toll from my anxiety will be larger as time goes on. 

I’m open to strategies. I’m open to try. 

Yesterday I booked in to attend an Alana Fairchild workshop in Berry in May. By myself. Huge. 

And last night I messaged a friend to let her know that Alana was returning to Berry. She replied. And talk turned to her business in Body Talk. I did some quick reading and I booked in for this afternoon.

This will not do the session justice. It was amazingly empowering. My anxiety dissolved during the session. It’s back but it is minimal and a different type – more like a nervous excitement. It might not be anxiety. 

Anyway, Body Talk is not necessarily well known as an alternative therapy. My practitioner, my friend, is very accomplished. I went in open and without expectation. 

I felt it working immediately. 

The practitioner utilises sections within the body, energy and tapping (on the head and on the sternum) to ‘reprogram’ the way the body is working. I could feel my body talking to Mel and I could feel her responses.

I know it sounds nonsensical. If someone was telling me this, I think I would be dubious. But … I experienced it. Immediately. And I left whole. My body felt together. My voice was stronger. I felt open again. 

I’m sold. Bugger medicine for healing the soul.

Thanks Mel. 

If anyone in Sydney wants to give it a try, email me and I’ll send you Mel’s number (tinameyer@live.com.au). 


Something profound happened for me yesterday. I am not sure that there are any words in existence that will do the experience justice, but I will try.

My friend Jenny, her daughter Casey, and I were in Berry about two and a half weeks ago. Berry is about an hour and a half’s drive from where we live. It is a cute little village with some powerful natural energy, and has my favourite shops in the world there: Shambhala and I have no idea what the other one is called.

We went in to Shambhala and I was drawn to a deck of cards: Kuan Yin by Alana Fairchild. A light green cover and I couldn’t tell you what else was on the front. I was really drawn to them but where I would usually just listen, the nagging financial advisor in my head told me to not be so silly because I was saving for a deposit for a home. Meh. I listened and didn’t buy the cards.

We had lunch. We laughed. We talked. We ate. We drank.

We then walked around the main street and came to my next favourite shop, more upper market than Shambhala and you can actually walk freely through (Shambhala is very overfilled – but that is its charm). On a display in the window and as soon as you walk in, deck after deck of the same cards. They drew me in at the window, they embraced me at the display. Jenny said, “Just buy them. You can’t not nourish yourself; attract the abundance by believing there is enough.”

That was all I needed to hear. I bought them.

We were at the counter and there was a promotional flyer for an Alana Fairchild Temple of Isis workshop on Saturday 2nd May in Berry. There was a discount offer on the purchase of admission if you bought two Alana Fairchild products; we thought the price was reasonable on its own. We took the flyer, contemplating its potential and left.

We stood outside, further contemplating.

We turned around and went back inside, and asked for more information, and signed up.

We would make it work.

Then life happened. No guarantor for a home loan, moving in to Lauren and Margo’s new home in Thirlmere (another cute village – no comment on the energy yet; thank God for those two though or homelessness would have been a reality in thought for a few weeks adding stress), organising the inspections of my current home, report season at work, and executions in Indonesia, earthquakes in Nepal, storms here …

So yesterday was welcome.

I am painfully shy. Many do not believe this of me, but I truly am. I am not a fan of humanity and I look weird. I am always that little bit fearful of judgement, and I dislike the cliche questions I usually receive. So these things, with lots of other people, who look normal, terrify me a little. Obviously, I too judge others by appearance and the seemingly conservative women walking through the doors yesterday at the Uniting Church Hall in Berry did nothing to assuage my fears. Nervously, we walked in.

And then Tina happened.

The lady organising the workshop, Patsy, looked at us, and I thought she wanted to know who we were, and so in my best, socially awkward presence, I announced, loud and proud, “I am Tina Meyer from Campbelltown.”

And she laughed. Grabbed me and hugged, “Hello Tina Meyer from Campbelltown!” Or did I imagine this part?

Oh brother, at any rate, mortified doesn’t even come close to how I felt.

Soldiered on. Always hard to know where to sit in situations like this. Inservices are the same. It’s like your seating choice can destroy or make the event. Needless to say, by the end we weren’t sitting where we sat at the start. And we weren’t the same as we were at the start, so that’s appropriate.

And now my words start to fail me.

Hmmm …

You don’t know this but the preceding ellipsis really did just indicate time passing with nothing being written. Part of me is thinking that I want to be selfish and hold on to yesterday for just a bit longer. Immortalising it is what words will do. And therein lies my dilemma, what if the words I  use do not capture the essence of it, the reality of it, the perfection of it.

Meh. Here goes …

It opened with a beautiful Singing Bowls rendition by a woman studying called Elizabeth. Absolutely beautiful. That alone transported me into the right mindset of acceptance and trust.

Then there was a lot of explanation. About what we would physicaly be doing. The tasks in the morning session would be vastly different to the afternoon session. We would feel confronted. Alana talked about Isis and Sekhmet, Bast, Horus. The energies in the room shifted further. We moved all of the chairs (set up in a semi circle, forty five or so people facing the front; this had been the antithesis of the sitting in a circle Kum By Ya moments Jen and I had been expecting) excitedly and nervously.

Initiation has the aroma of the deep occult about it. It sets fear into the heart and mind. The power of the connotation of words. We both knew we were meant to be in Berry yesterday. So we were willing to look past this occult notion of initiation.

Realistically, all initiation is, is movement into something new, something different. A ritual formalises the movements of initiation that we all make every day upon waking. The practice of initiation sets the energy.

I cannot tell you the words that Alana used. They are in my mind but I have no access to them. Whatever she asked, probably along the lines of me accepting the initiation, my answer was a resounding yes. She marked my third eye with  organic ash. I sat and began to meditate. After everyone said yes, she came and tied white ribbon around our right wrists and said something to us about light. And we continued to meditate. Specifically upon the things that we wanted to let go of. For me, my weight is the connection I most feel ties me to my past experiences, and I want to move forward from that. I started by meditating upon letting go of bad foods. Then I realised that what connected me to food was fear.

Fear is powerful. It stops us from being who we truly are, from stepping forward with confidence, from really living our lives. In the moment I knew, within my core, that what I really needed to let go of, was fear. Fear has held me back because it has not permitted me to believe that I am worthy of all that I am worthy of. It has stopped me from accepting abundance in to my life, abundance that we all richly deserve. And whilst that hasn’t paralysed my life (because I am very very stubborn), it has not permitted me to accept all that is truly mine.

And so I meditated on letting fear go.

I made the decision to stop saying no because of fear.

To embody the practice will take time. But my first steps forward came at lunch.

I felt the ritual to be very powerful. We were given an hour for lunch. I needed to buy a crystal for one of my students ( she is an empath and struggles with the energies at school – the crystal I bought her I have used, successfully for the most part, myself – Wednesday being the exception – anger at the execution in Indonesia). I had a forehead smeared with ash. I walked proudly. Oblivious completely to the stares (Jen told me that I was oblivious; usually I am not).

When we arrived back at the hall we were told to move the chairs back temporarily to sit. Jen and I ended up next to Elizabeth. Incredible soul. Ignored other people waiting to talk to her to continue talking to us. Beautiful rich creative ideas about the potential of my move. Can’t express it in words, so …

My second test came after lunch. Moving meditation. Never heard of it. And yep, I am a qualified meditation teacher. Good work Tina!

Dancing in a room full of people (I just typed power instead of people – that is what happened but interesting that in my brain I have already substituted what it was instead of my limiting thoughts about it) without alcohol is not something I do. EVER.

We were given the option of sitting down or lying down, of not moving. My heart soared and then my mind gave my heart a string and swift kick. I remained standing. Sekhmet and Bast featured in this meditation. The two faces providing balance. I closed my eyes and danced. I did not permit fear to change my behaviour.

I loved it.


Something I had only ever done at home by myself generated power in a group.


And then an intense lying down meditation followed.

And then we debriefed.

I couldn’t speak. I felt zen.

I have thought I have felt zen before in my life, but never this deeply or profoundly.

Something in me has shifted.

I feel complete acceptance.

Complete faith.

Complete trust.

I am where I am meant to be.

I am doing what I am meant to be doing.

I am who I am meant to be.