I’m writing by my fire under the stars. Now 9 days in and through most of the wild and impenetrable part, I can finally reflect a little. The whole thing has been a gift. My family gifted me this time and trusted me with my life, and heaven has gifted me a guided safe passage. I feel so incredibly grateful. I have become attuned to the different sounds of water and what they mean, it’s speed, its power, the beauty of its dance. I have tuned in to different scents, to the deeply dormant olfactory wisdom that preserves life and warns gently of danger, to sounds and textures new to my consciousness, old to my DNA. To the infinite glamour of the night sky and to the twinkling eyes of loved ones watching and lighting the way home. One part woman, three parts the crushed glitter of a billion stars, the alpha that once frightened me, solidified in my soul.
I’d been so afraid of the dingoes before I came out. It was a power that felt too close for comfort. Now their howls echoing over and around me are my song. Never have I been more in my body and yet out here it is anything but my own. It belongs to the earth and it is behaving in the ways of a mother heavy with life. The river draws, gives, takes, sustains, I commit myself and she takes her commission. It is a tryst I hoped for but am shocked by the reality of. It’s breathtaking majesty makes me crave the compass of science as a way to explain it all, but it is the sun dial of the spirit that proffers its power. The most logical and conservative explanation I can arrive at, is the comparative mediocrity of magic.
So many times my own words have echoed in my head. The narration of dreams. All the dreaming words I was writing, they’re all becoming my realised truth. The living, breathing birthright of deeply held Pinocchio convictions, that if untrue, would have dismantled everything, rendering my perceptions crushingly wooden. A line I wrote some time ago floats by: ‘choose your words wisely; fate is a light sleeper‘. All of the things I wrote were my dreams, and now they are real. I’m real. Tonight I lay neath a blanket of fire, casting a shadow of stars.
I started training karate when I was 3 years old and have trained in Japan and Oceania. I joined my first band age 8 and dedicated my teenage years to writing songs and playing gigs. I earned a recording contract at age 18. Once I secured that I mistakenly believed the hard part was done. I was wrong. I didn’t turn up with the same work ethic, drive and creativity that I used to secure the deal in the first place. I failed and it was heartbreaking and although I didn’t know it at the time, it was the greatest gift. I returned to high school to finish my education and begrudged working in the family shipbuilding, charters and repair business. What a fall from grace. While I was working in the business we were the defendants in a court case that went all the way to the High Court of Australia. We won. The law firm I had been working with encouraged me to pursue a career in Law. I moved to the city, joined their firm as a maritime and aviation paralegal and began my formal studies. I spent most of my 20s pursuing a Law career, which I grew to love, until I met my husband and had my first son age 26. I began freelance writing and returned to my love of the creative arts, finding myself in fashion as a ghost writer writing brand voices. This segued into marketing, culminating in my dream job as integrated marketing campaign manager for a leading fashion magazine writing campaigns for the biggest luxury fashion brands in the world. I was living my dream. Until my passion diverged again.
A 2014 trip to South Africa sent the compass needle spinning and I yearned to strip everything back and to return to basics. I became obsessed with the paradox of returning to the purity of existence before our social conditioning, and the becoming and designing of whoever and whatever we choose to be as our truest incarnation of self. I studied this in nature. I furthered it in pursuits of adventure. I discovered the place outside of our comfort zones where the wildflowers grow. I made that garden my home. It drives my decisions as a woman and mother.
I decided to be the first person to solo kayak the 400km Clarence River in northern NSW. I’d never kayaked before but I knew when the time came I would be the person I needed to be. I learned bush survival, celestial navigation, how to hunt and trap, how to forage, and medicinal uses of plants. I spent time in the bush honing my skills and I learnt and taught my sons as I went. I prepared for 2 years and this year in May 2017 it became my realised truth. I embarked on other solo adventures in the lead up and am a sponsored adventurer and ambassador, speaker and mentor, working with several global brands, publications and community groups. Is this finally my ‘thing’? Will Adventure eventually bore me? Will my passion diverge again? What is it about my personality that drives me to achieve a high level in one direction, and then to set my sail in another entirely? Am I alone?
I welcome you to these pages, where my goal is to delve into the secrets of passion and high performance, of perseverance and purpose, of parenting and identity, and philosophy and curiosity. Peppered with thoughts of my own and in-depth conservations and interviews with the most fascinating minds I can find, it is my hope that the distillations of these wisdoms will enable you to find and explore your “thing” too.
Once upon a time we believed the earth was flat. Now we believe it’s a pyramid. A pyramid with a select few at the top and the rest bottom dwelling, stressing and striving, climbing and competing. And it is prismatic for those that run the auto-programming we’re unrelentingly fed by the media. Every day we are fed the crime tabloids of terror and destruction and horror and hate, because the only beauty that sells wears a bikini and a blank stare.
But we are a globe in body and essence. A stunning sphere of possibility, not a pyramid of imprisoned dreams. A mirror ball of magic, that if we spent more time being reflective instead of being dazzled by our own reflections, would be collectively blinding in its beauty. A mosaic of meticulously arranged tiles, a square of space for every soul, round peg, triangle peg, hexagonal peg, whatever, to fit in and make a home of excellence. To occupy a space of extraordinary without being bullied into believing that space is wrong, deficient, invalid, unworthy. Its time we saw the globe. The mirror ball. The mosaic. The mural. The art in one another. Seize your space. Make it a masterpiece.