musings – Page 8 – A Shared Space

It comes from within …

Despite the frenetic lifestyle, I enjoy moments of peace on a daily basis. I build these into my day, moments that nurture my spirit and soul. Being of faith, my instinct is to set aside time to spend in prayer, a communion, a connection, to my Maker. I don’t ask for anything or express thanks. I am quiet with a heightened awareness, I am not alone. It is time when I need to listen, so silence is important.

I listen with attentiveness with all my senses on alert. It may be to the sound of waves crashing, the crunch of my boots on twigs, the click of my camera, the bounce of the kangaroo in the bush. I no longer yearn for experiences out of reach. With camera in hand and laptop before me, I am me no matter where I am. The authentic me. In that knowledge, is peace.

I learned years ago there are some experiences I will never experience. And, I felt the bite of unfairness on more than one occasion. It took years for me to realise. Peace comes from within. If we seek to make peace, we are at peace. It is a place of rest and recovery. It is a space where all else falls away, and within that nothingness, is a fullness of spirit that takes up all the space.

So I accept, some things are never meant to be for me. I may not have found that elusive ‘something special’ that others acquire so effortlessly. But I have the capacity to experience joy. And, I make it my mission to seek it every day.

I’m leaving next week headed to the north. I’m looking forward to wearing less clothes and walking along the beach. Maybe find a heart again. Or maybe even someone who wants mine.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge : Nurture

In response to RDP – Saturday: Peace

Among trees, I breathe …

I love being in timber country. I find something spiritual among trees, a healing presence. I love being silent when walking or seated among tall trees. My earliest memory of childhood is being draped over a low hanging branch of a guava tree and pretending I was a leopard and watched the activity down below me at the water tank. I believe one is never alone or lonely in the company of trees.
This is in the timber country of Collie, in the south west of Western Australia, one of my favourite places to visit in winter/spring.
I just love this region with eruptions of flowers.
Have you ever seen ducks in a tree! Yes, ducks! (middle of the pic). I was walking through Foxes Lair early morning when I heard the nasally honking of the Australian shelduck. I know a pair to live here and often watch them do a circuit over the tall gum trees. This morning I thought there were more and could not believe my eyes!
How cool is this?!
I love the colours of the shelduck. On a dismal day, they were vibrant.
I love how a fallen tree offers a place to rest.
And, gives one a moment to consider a fall can be graceful, too.
This is one of my favourite trees between Moora and New Norcia in the north east Wheatbelt.

I had gone further north on my recent trip and found myself in beautiful beige country, almost painted in water colours. It felt like I was driving live through Hans Heysen’s art. Heysen was an Australian artist. I absolutely love his work. He knew the bush by heart. I’m learning how to do this, too.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Lens Artists Photo Challenge – Trees

I gave you a garden …

I’ve always had roses in my garden. In my old house, I had a hedge of 14 iceberg roses and when they shed the petals, it was snow in summer. I loved them.

Dr T has a green thumb. He loves native flora. I regret not sharing his interest when we were married. He created and kept a beautiful garden. Never a blade of grass out of place. I remember a particular argument with me (unfairly) accusing him of never doing anything for me. He calmly responded, he gave me a garden. I was so young then to truly appreciate the sentiment. I do, now.

Dr T and I had made a deal we would plant a rose bush in the garden on the anniversary of our wedding each year. The first one was Sweetheart and the last, Peace. Sums up our long relationship and where we are now! I really wanted to bring the Sweetheart rose bush with me when I moved but was reluctant in case it died. My former home is around the corner from where I now live, so I see the roses every day.

I’m not a roses girl, but if you gave me tulips … especially white tulips … well, that’s another story. I much prefer roses in the garden. The only person who cuts and takes my roses indoors, is my neighbour who has my permission to enjoy them when I’m not home.

The last few days have been gruelling of driving long distances in very poor weather. This morning I rose at 6:30am. It was dark and cold in the chalet in the Wheatbelt, … minus 1 degree C I’m told. I lay in bed for another half an hour trying to warm before the dash to the kitchen for coffee. While in bed the freight train rolled past. I felt the rumble through the floor. A delicious feeling of vibration that travelled up my spine. I enjoyed the moment thinking I’ll be home for the night. I felt a pang of wanting to be home and where the roses are.

I left work early and arrived home just before dusk to find my front garden is awash with roses. Probably the last of them before winter pruning.

Enjoy with me!

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Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Friday : Rose

Courage, in an uneven footing …

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Silvereye, Foxes Lair, Narrogin, Western Australia

It’s just after 6 am as I write. It is freezing cold in my clean but old motel room. The ceiling is high, the air con heater sluggish, it will be hours before the room warms. I’ll be gone by then.

Yesterday I finished work on time, drove into town, just a minute away, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out to Foxes Lair. I barely had 20 minutes among the trees before it got too dark to be there on my own. It was all I needed. I was renewed. I am myself again.

I’ll drive home this morning listening to my favourite playlist. If the roadworks are more accessible by day, I may stop off at The Woolshed in the tiny farming town of Williams and see if they have a jumper or two that I may like. The quality of their merino wool garments is beautiful, light and warm. I have an afternoon at home to tidy up some work before I drive to the north east Wheatbelt tomorrow, around 300 km away, where I’ll spend the next few days. And then … a much needed break, in a warmer place. The thought, quickens my heart beat.

I’ve been able to survive the rigors of the last few weeks convinced in the knowledge, all days are not equal. Some days the load is lighter, and others, crushing. Yes, my shoulders sag at times but thankfully I’ve discovered ways and means to rejuvenate. A grove of trees, a strip of beach, even an empty paddock roadside, is all I need, to feel energised again. I reflected on this early morning and found, I don’t resent the load, but I do feel lost when I don’t have the opportunity during a work trip, to be in nature. I have professional supervision once a month but I feel my spirit needs ‘guidance’, ‘supervision’, every single day. Without it, I careen under the weight of lifestyle.

It has taken a long time to realise, it is okay for demands of the day to be uneven. It takes courage, to find core strength. One just needs to ride it out. I’d much rather have this, than a predictable lifestyle. When I think back to the years when Monday to Friday, 9-5, was my compass, was the way to the bank, I’m surprised that I survived. I guess, one never knows what one is missing out on, unless one has the courage to try it.

I woke up grateful this morning, I had the courage to be curious about what was around the corner, much like the tiny silvereye. It would have been a life un-lived, if I hadn’t.

May you find and enjoy your moment of gratitude, curiosity and courage, today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge : Equal

Some days are not gold

I’ve not been myself in the last few months. The end of financial year has been more stressful than necessary, with changes to contracts and the choice of work on offer. There’s always a degree of uncertainty in change and new management and this in itself brings a degree of discomfort. I haven’t handled this well. I’ve been expecting others to be understanding and ‘carry me’. On my own, I do well. I can rely on myself to make it to the other side, but when I burden myself with expectations I place on others … well, some days are not gold.

This morning I stayed in bed. I listened to the laughter of kookaburras in the distance. For a moment, the sound was mocking. Fool! came to mind. I struggled with this thought, berating myself. I know myself to be someone who is focused when I’m committed to something. Others may see this as sheer stubbornness. What I see as a strength, can be perceived to be a negative by others. There is an easy way out. I could be a home body, sit in an office, have a work day that’s 9 to 5. But the very thought of that kind of existence makes me shrivel up inside.

This morning I watched the day go from grey to grey. I stared intently outside the window and realised, if I looked hard enough there was colour out there. The camera was able to fade the grey into the background and I could see the flower. It was what my spirit needed for reflection.

In the frenetic end of financial year I’ve been asked to do a series of professional development seminars for staff. It is extra work, without a doubt. I gave a talk the other day. The night before my flight was delayed several hours due to poor weather and then we landed after missed approaches. The stress of crosswinds! In the morning, to my dismay I realised I was giving a talk that afternoon. At the end of the seminar, in the privacy of my office, one of the staff approached me. She hugged me and said she enjoyed the talk and, I was doing what I was meant to do with my life. She had no idea what the backdrop to my day had been. She brought colour to a very grey day.I enjoyed my drive to the Wheatbelt yesterday. I arrived at dusk. The winter skies were amazing across a varied landscape. The moon peered for a moment, before being hidden from sight. Although weary, the moment made me smile. As I unpacked my car in the cold I thought every so often I should write about the things I’m truly grateful for.

Today I am.

I’ve found in this fast changing world of Like and Love buttons, and emojis, the ‘button’ best pressed is the one of genuine appreciation … one human being, of another. I hope I find the opportunity today to let someone know how much I appreciate them. That’s my mission today.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Friends, like this …

Pink Lake, Esperance, Western Australia

I was hotel bound for two days straight. It was dark in the morning and dark when I returned after work with no time to go out with camera. I was feeling tired and trapped, until today.

The flu season is in. With cancelled appointments I finished on time today, did a quick trip to my hotel for the camera and headed to Pink Lake. The lake is no longer pink but the grey of sunset was calming. I needed this today for clarity about where I am and where I want to be.

I stood at the lookout and thought of my dear friend, LR. An American author and activist who I loved dearly so many years ago. I’m not sure if I’ve written about him previously but feel the need to have his presence with me right now, so I’ll write about him again.

I was an undergraduate, working through an essay late one night while my children slept. My paperwork strewn around me as I lay on the carpet. I came across an article and was captivated by the power of words. I flipped back to the front page to look for his university address when I realised it was a home address. I read and re-read the article several times and just knew I had to talk to him. At 4 am Perth time I dialled international directory and they gave me his number. I dialled it not knowing what time it was on the West Coast of USA. The phone did not ring. At all. He said hello. And I went silent. I then stammered who I was and why I was calling him. He was patient with me and let me talk. In that hour we became friends, and remained so, until he passed away a few years ago.

My friend LR taught me about inclusivity. About passion. About acceptance. About outrage. About having a voice and how to use it. About silence. About nature. About the “treasures” one finds in the depths of depression. He introduced me to the works of Joseph Campbell, Elie Wiesel, Viktor Frankl, among many others. And, he taught me how to feel ‘safe’ in a relationship.

In all those years of friendship we talked every week but I met him just once. He was tall and had a flowing white beard. (I’ve just realised, all the men in my life have had beards!). To be in his presence was to be lit up from the inside.

I was at a conference in Washington DC and was invited to a party by a delegate. I sat on a footstool at LR’s feet and we were talking. When he stopped to take a breath I told him, he was the only man on earth who made me wish I was 30 years older. Why? he asked me surprised. I told him with absolute honesty, “because I would ask you to marry me”. A confirmed bachelor, his life committed to activism and community, it was the first proposal he had received as far back as he could remember. We laughed at the reality of our circumstances. His kind blue eyes sparkled at my candour.

I loved him dearly. I always felt safe with him. He encouraged me to use the opportunities I had been given to make a difference. I am where I am today, because of his encouragement.

We all need friends like LR. They may not be around us in their hordes. We just need one, much like a stone cast to the middle of a pond, when they touch our life, the ripples are far reaching.

Until next time

a dawn bird

In response to Word of the Day Challenge : Safe

What the eyes see, the heart hears …

Winter has arrived in my garden. There is a carpet of sodden leaves under the mulberry tree that stir imperceptibly with each gust of winter fury. Rugged up, from indoors, I watched them struggle to move and wondered whether that happens to people too.

I was never someone who didn’t move. I have always been productive but there was a time of losses when my mind was too focused on lesser priorities, like career, which I erroneously thought was for the survival of my family, and me. On reflection, my mind stirred but did not move. I did not survive because of career. I survived because I found new meaning for my existence. Back then … I was meant to be, where I was meant to be. Today I am where I am meant to be. Each time I travel, I am where I am meant to be. Acceptance of this was key, and then the universe opened doors for me.

I move now. I see things I didn’t notice before. My hearing is acute for small sounds. I heard a bird call yesterday while working and went outdoors to investigate. I couldn’t see the bird but I heard it. I now live life with curiosity.

End of financial year is an incredibly stressful time. There is extra work on offer. Invoices have to be submitted by deadline and can only be done once the reports are in, so I’m tied to the computer for long periods of time. My home is in disarray. I have damp clothes drying indoors. I hate this! (But, I refuse to use a dryer). There’s dirty dishes in the sink. My bed is unmade. Where ever I look there is something to be done. I felt overwhelmed. With limited time before I drive out today, I took the best option available to me. I looked outside.
This morning, coffee in hand, I looked at the leaves around the crepe myrtle tree. It bloomed well this year, when I saw the last of the leaves.
I had to go out with camera. On the bleakest of days, the leaves are the colours of sunset.

On a tree full of flowers in spring, I did not notice the foliage. Today I saw they were the last of autumn, with winter following close behind, so I knew I would never see them again. Their time had come.

I had to share a moment with the leaves before the winds blew them away. They will be gone by the time I return home from my trip. When they do, it will be a reminder, all life is lived in seasons. Sometimes, overwhelmingly abundant. At other times, there is starkness. It is in that space of stillness, of inertia, where hope finds a home and leads to ‘movement’. Nature tells us, no matter how bleak a winter, spring, a time of renewal and abundance, will follow.

May you find that space of hope today. This is my gift to you.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

At a billabong …

Billabong, outback Kimberley region, Western Australia

I thought it was somewhat ironic the picture I was drawn to for this post is that of a billabong in harsh country, so far away from the manicured lawns and gardens in the city.

The Kimberley region in Western Australia is north of Perth and vast, hugely vast. I’ve visited many times to towns and also indigenous communities, for work. I have also holidayed there frequently when I visited a friend in Broome but never ventured to the true outback.

This is remote, harsh country in East Kimberley. The dust is red and the foliage a beautiful green. The billabongs are magnificent and lush. I sat with a group of strangers, all writers from around Australia, at this billabong for a writing exercise. The memory makes me shiver with warmth. There were blue dragon flies that buzzed around me. The purple water lilies shimmered in the heat. It was one of the most memorable peaceful moments I have experienced. The water looked so tempting. This is saltwater crocodile country and this billabong may have been safe … but we did not take any chances.

I know I’ll return one day.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Saturday: Verdant

Home is, where the roses are

I have two and a half days at home before I leave again. It is such a luxury that I woke this morning like it was Christmas and didn’t know which present to open first. I gathered my thoughts and made a list that included some down time. I’ve had a great day and feel rested.

On returning home from lunch it was like I saw my front garden for the first time. My footsteps veered away from the front door and to the flowers. The delicate roses survived the fiercest storm and that in itself, is a teaching moment.
thumb_IMG_5281_1024 Some of the white iceberg roses are tinted in the palest pink. They belong on a wedding cake.
Some bloomed off course. Something familiar, to me!
thumb_IMG_5291_1024 Some were ethereal angels in flight.
And others, so beautiful, even the bee stepped outside for perspective.

My focus today was one directional. I set a task for myself to practice self-care and rest. I achieved this without a twinge of guilt. And, that’s how a day of rest should be.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Friday : Directional

Nature vs Nurture

The concept of self-care was introduced to me about a decade ago. It is not a self-indulgence. It is vital for physical, emotional, spiritual and mental health. The premise is quite uncomplicated. If you don’t look after yourself, you can’t look after others.

I sought to be nurtured in different places and by different people. The mix was never right and left me wanting to fill the void. My only regret in life is that it has taken me so long to discover, nature can be a powerful nurturing force in one’s life.

And so my journey began …
I sought the embrace of tall trees.
And in the outback where the wide open spaces and empty places are filled, within me.
Usually solitary, there are times I seek footprints left by others.

I neglected this boab bonsai at my peril. It did not survive. The warning signs I’ve since heeded, make time, those who nurture me, deserve my nurturing too.
Best of all … no matter where I am and what I’m doing, just a glimpse of my daughter’s dogs, makes me smile. Their loyalty and companionship is uncomplicated, with the only complication being in the gaze. My kind of relationship!

Winter has arrived in Perth with fury. I returned home last night in a storm. I’m exhausted from the stress of the flight. Today, I plan to have a hot stone massage, get a pedicure, do some cooking and then get back to ‘catch up’ work while watching the steady rain outdoors.

I’ve mapped my day and it looks perfect for me. Wherever you are, may your day be perfect too. Isolate some time for yourself. You deserve it.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Thursday : Nurture

The exchange – sea art

For some the value of the work is in the dollar. I’ve long moved on from that exchange. I still feel child-like excitement as I prepare for each trip, even if I’ve been to the same place three times in a month. I always find something to look forward to. Mostly, I anticipate the natural environment and find an anchor in something wherever I visit.

One of my favourite natural anchors is a rock platform I’ve written about in another post. The word prompt jogged my. memory of the moment of exchange.

It’s the end of a difficult day. I have nothing else to anchor me except the memory of that sea art. I do feel it is an unfair interaction when I visit it; the rock gives me so much more than I have to offer it.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Wednesday – Exchange

‘Ikigai’

Yesterday my son invited me to breakfast, just the two of us. His exams start on Monday and he wanted to go over some work with me. He is 18 months away from graduation from a four year degree and can’t believe how quickly time has passed. He now realises, when one enjoys what one does, the concept of time is irrelevant. He’s been tapped to do postgraduate study and he’s conflicted if he should or not. His lecturers also asked him to give a seminar to the incoming students, a pep talk, which he really enjoyed doing. It’s such a pleasing thing to see others also recognise his potential. After graduating from a four year spatial design degree and while working ten years in retail, he never worked in his chosen field and made a huge switch by returning to study. I would never have imagined he would be a natural for what he wants to do with the rest of his life. His choices are many but he’s really keen to work in clinical rehabilitation. His mantra, “I want to make a difference”, encapsulates his chosen life.

I was telling my son about a book I’ve been reading, ‘Ikigai’, The Japanese Secret of a Long and Happy Life. I’ve been trying to integrate this philosophy, at times unconsciously, and other times, with awareness. One of the things I’ve been trying to do, is do something new each day. That was enough cue for my son.
Instead of having breakfast at home yesterday, we went to a Korean/Japanese restaurant and I had the best breakfast Asian broth instead of the standard Western fare. It was just what I needed. It felt nourishing and I came home feeling nurtured.
Today I feel so distant from my city. I no longer recognise the skyline. It has changed while I was not looking. I’m not enamoured by concrete, glass and metal. It leaves me with the sense of window shopping life. But, I do have plans to walk under the arches of the new bridge. When Pink was performing in town, the city council lit up the bridge in pink lights. It was pretty!
To leave the city and work in rural regions, is something that makes me happy. I’m immersed in the moment, which is my chosen life. This is lunch time in Coolgardie, in the Goldfields. I’m far from home here!
I’m off again to the mining region where the mulla mulla is just starting to bloom. There will be carpets of pinky mauve fluffy flowers soon.
And, of course, the golden gum flowers that signal winter are making an appearance. Like me, tightly wound but waiting to bloom, when the time is right.

So I’m off again today. The last two weeks were eventful. I had little sleep but the down time to play, made it worthwhile. That’s just about the sum of my life, for now.

May you experience the philosophy of Ikigai today. May you find what intersects your passions and talents, that makes your day worthwhile.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP – Sunday: Sum

Beyond the deck …

Beyond the deck, life is …
Photographing new growth after a bushfire, Esperance, Western Australia.
Sampling beer tasting shots, Margaret River, Western Australia
Walking along the Fascine at sunset, Carnarvon, Western Australia
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Falling in love with life and love, iron ore freight lines, Pilbara region, Western Australia
Cosy nights in … romantic B&B, Great Southern region, Western Australia
Best of all … finding joy and purpose working with children, with special needs.

My life journey has not been linear. The sharp twists and turns are now rounded curves. What was, was meant to be. This I accept because it has brought me to this point beyond the deck … a good place to be.

As always

a dawn bird

In Response to Judy Dykstra-Brown Photo Challenge: All Lined Up

Last day of autumn

I’ve spent half of autumn in mining country north. I’ve enjoyed this more than I can say.
I’ve enjoyed the gum trees road side along the highway in the Goldfields. Gorgeous sky line.I took a lunch break at the lookout overlooking Lake Lefroy, a large salt lake near East Kambalda.Oh! the colours of this landscape!And despite the big trucks, open skies, magnificent landscape and ‘earthy miners’, I managed to find this. Invisible to the naked eye, I zoomed in to a speck thinking it was an insect, only to find it to be an exquisite flower.

Much like finding the tiny flower, there are other unexpected pleasures. I’m going out to dinner tonight. It will be nice to have company instead of eating alone. Dinner and drinks sounds just about what I need right now, before winter kicks in tomorrow. I’m not ready for it.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

Going with the ‘flow’ …

I’ve been doing some reading on the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi who espoused the psychological theory of ‘flow’. Much like mindfulness, flow is about being fully present in the moment. It appeals to me more than mindfulness. Flow is about generating a spark. It ignites. In a moment of inaction, it generates movement, it is fluid. One becomes all. All becomes one. All falls away. There is no ego in that moment.

Photography does this for me.
I need moments like this every day. To me, they are as vital as breath.
I need big skies over me. I am humbled and in awe of this.
To be one with this leaves me wordless.
There are times I am so still, I forget to exhale.

The best part is when what I’m experiencing in the moment, is visible to someone else who has seen it many times but never experienced it. It is a moment of intimacy, like no other. It ignites.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to RDP : Tuesday – Spark

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