Broken People

I don’t know how many of you will remember an email chain that went around in the late nineties – yep, I know lol – focused on the paradoxes. One of the tenets was that we are more connected than we ever have been, but people feel lonelier than they ever have.

That hasn’t really changed in the last twenty years, just become worse.

I think society has broken down. I also think we are all responsible for changing that.

Community is the way. Holding each other accountable for our behaviour is the way. Loving one another by looking for similarities rather than focusing on difference is the way. Checking in on family and friends is the way.

I feel most alive and most present in service to others. And travel, but that isn’t the norm for my life. I love my businesses. I love working. Not so many hours, but it is what it is and it is temporary.

Now though, that I see more of the world, I see how many people are broken and living in fear of change or even being themselves. At our core, I think we all want to belong and be loved. Ego tells us we want power and notoriety, not our core selves.

Ego disconnects us from one another. Ego is hurt feelings, vengeance, anger, frustration. Ego is the I. Ego serves the individual – sometimes – but at the expense of the heart and at the expense of community.

Real and true community, like when I grew up and people looked out for one another. Community where you want others to succeed. Community of loyalty and trust and empowerment and support.

The sort of world our kids deserve to live in.

Maybe, if we lived in a communal society, so many kids, so many adults, wouldn’t be feeling hope-less and lost and alone and disconnected. Maybe people wouldn’t be so broken and there would be more love. Maybe more people would survive.

Pain and loneliness is temporary.

When we make different choices, life gets better and we get healthier.

How are the lost meant to see this when we are so disconnected we don’t share it.

I don’t want to see more sadness, and tragedy, and pain. I think our leaders need to stop focusing on the silly things and focus on reconnecting people, growing community, finding peace and balance. They need to serve from love and not ego. They need to model a different way.

I want our children saved.

Shifting

Uluru. No words. Needs to be experienced by the heart. No words, no photographs, no videos will do it justice.

Walking today and three spots really drew my attention.

1. Sacred Women’s Spot. A request for no photographs to be taken in that area. I lay my hands on the rock. Instantly a vibration, a deep murmuring was felt through my hands. The rock was cold; it’s pulse was strong. An Aboriginal woman appeared to me. Bare chested, large, round face, red skirt, grey hair, laughing eyes. Beautiful in ritual and authenticity. I came back here to write.

2. Men’s Cooking Space. A low cave entrance, fire darkness across its roof. A young Aboriginal boy, possibly fifteen or sixteen, curly black hair, observing us all with a smile. He carried a spear. His face was painted. He, too, wore red.

3. Kantju Gorge. Still. Very still. Quiet. Reverent. Austere. Peaceful. I came back here to write. My new friend was there already. I offered her a sound session with the forks. I felt called to use them in this space. She said that she saw young Aboriginal children playing. The forks silenced the tourists. Power.

Three short pieces (not very good; words do no justice to the moments).

I.

A mother’s heartbeat

pulsing through my outstretched fingers.

Life force:

Breathing for me

Breathing as me

feeling the power.

Release –

Coughs echo and bound through my chest,

releasing all that has been caught,

feeling all that can be felt –

Liberation.

Power.

Wellness.

Sacred women’s space.

II.

A lowly cave entrance

Shrouded

Marked

by two trees

reaching away

to beckon all within.

Mysteries to share

and secrets to tell

the ancient winds divulge all.

Close your eyes.

Still your heart.

Listen …

The winds carry ancient songs

calls of love

and calls of worship

for all that lies here

today, yesterday, tomorrow.

All time is one.

As your foot treads,

so does another’s,

together,

in unison,

now.

III.

Darkness …

of the mind, the soul, the cave.

Deep breaths …

transcending the core,

and lighting the way.

Flickers of sun

glance off fire marked walls,

hands are held,

hearts beat as one:

Ceremony. Ritual. Celebration.

Toes sink into red sand

covering nails and sticking to beds.

Dark eyes smile.

Cool earth, cool walls, cool rock.

Sacred space.

Sacred lives.

Sacred dreams.

Whole

Wednesday was a hard day. I was at odds within myself, finally realising how important I am, how deserving I am and how beautiful I am. Conflict, both internally and externally, ruled the day. 

Yesterday was integration. 

I adopted my inner-Donna after conflict that I had resolved within myself, and I moved forward. I was not going to make someone else’s issues my shackles. And last night was invited by the universe to apply the lessons of the day before, and in my mind, I succeeded. 

However, I need to share what happened with Thursday outside of that self-absorbed stuff 😉. I was excited about yesterday and am excited about today. 

At ten we all left the hotel, in two small buses, and we ventured through hustle and bustle Varanasi to an ashram, on the Ganga, an hour away, still in Varanasi. 

I loved watching the busy-ness drift into calm as we moved further away. People walking, smiling, waving, enamoured with so many white women. The dirty streets gave way to large fields, rice paddies, open space, and healthier looking animals, although tethered by short restraints. 

We arrived at the ashram and a calm descended spiritually. As I stepped from the bus, into the very humid air, a sense of quiet embraced my heart and mind, and I could feel my soul centring. 

My. 

Moving into the shade of very very old trees, the humidity dissipated and cool washed over my skin. Looking up, I could feel the ancestors calling and consoling. We learned about the ashram, we heard some stories, and we were connected to the ground beneath our feet, the sky above us, and to everything in between. 

Peace. 

I could stay here forever …

And the butterflies … many, beautiful rich colours, bliss. 


More photos wouldn’t upload. Apologies – internet not great this morning. 

On the way home our bus driver forgot to take us to a special school; we missed out but I trusted that we were exactly where we were supposed to be. If I am supposed to visit a school, I will visit a school. 

My friend and I, upon arrival at the hotel, decided to walk the streets and do some shopping. Even engaged in conversation, we were repeatedly asked if we wanted to be driven. Repeatedly, no. 

We ended up in a small family business, Om Kashi, at the end of a side steeet. Lured inside we were offered tea and told to sit. Beautiful hospitality but it also becomes harder to say no; the internal struggle my friends, is real. 

We stayed a while. We both purchased our goods, heard about the politics of shop ownership within the street (similar to small business versus the giants at home), met their daughter, had selfies taken, took their cards and promised to share them. Nice people trying to make a living. 

It is at this point that I must acknowledge that I am useless at haggling. Just useless. Every time I try I am reminded of my first ever experience in Nepal – 1999, $25 AUD for a singing bowl that only cost $10 AUD at home. Yep. I haven’t improved much. 

But it lends itself to humour, and when yesterday’s shop owner said we were all friends, I told him that after what I had paid, I was part of his family. My business manager (aka buddy) is a harder haggler, and after some research on local prices last night, rightly so. 

To a relaxation meditation, dinner, a drink to celebrate three birthdays, more shopping and haggling, and the day was perfect. 

Self-absorbed side note:

Something has shifted deep within me regarding my sense of self. I am overweight, and entwined with a dysfunctional past, have never accepted that I could be, am, beautiful. I now believe that I am beautiful. And for the first time in my life I am (motivated isn’t quite the right word) wanting to integrate my strong inner beauty with the outer shell. Won’t that make an interesting journey forward. 


Settling In 

I am quite peaceful within myself at the moment. If you saw me in a few moments today at work you may disagree with that statement but I mean within my core. Today I drove the thirty minutes to work in silence, just being with the environment and it’s beauty. It brings peace. 

The move has been good for me. I have created my home for myself. Final touches were white sheer curtains in the loungeroom over the French doors tonight. The main house is done. 

Next is the back yard. Finding places for all of my pots and digging up the existing weed ridden vege garden. A job for next weekend. 

And my writing room. 

I am missing my writing practice. But the loss is temporary.

And today whilst I was teaching Extension English (cheeky miscreants) I had a surge of inspiration to write essays. After my novella for young adults, I’ll be on to that hehe.

Happiness at home is causing friction within my superficial self at work. I have become more conscious of and irritated by silliness. I am hoping it is PMS (no, I’m not joking). If it is PMS, it’s temporary and I hope it’s temporary. I put out a feral energy when I’m superficially irritated and today that attracted dealing with a cigarette lighter gun and resulted in me telling a student to “shut up” only to be told well and truly by them where to go. 

There were lots of tears – three students in tears. The realisation of consequences for poor behaviour for two of them, and the third didn’t feel heard (past behaviour not allowing teachers to believe he didn’t do something that he was accused of). So I really listened to him and we resolved the issue. A beautiful boy but high energy. 

You have to laugh. Another day at the office. A long day. Followed by another long day tomorrow. I feel like I sound whiney – I don’t intend to and I don’t feel it. Hehe. 

Yes, my writing room. 

There is a dark pink wall. I wouldn’t usually like that look but it suits this room. White furniture in it. Throughout most of the house really – the illusion of more space and freshness. And a large window that I will place a lot of my pots in front of to provide the illusion of writing in the garden during winter. 

A lot of deception being alluded to here lol hmmm, I wonder what that means. Or is it the reality reno shows I’ve been obsessed with lol. 

Also a job for next weekend. Exciting. 

I am really looking forward to it. 

I love my new home. It is reflective of my rejuvenated, transformed self. The energy is beautiful. Soft and warm. 

I am happy. And at peace. 

😜