Stirring the Pot 

I have beetroot blood splattered on my dry palms, a dusty ponytail and soft white feet after taking off my boots. I’m helping shuffle cars for an overnight hike near Bermagui. It’s the first time I’ve been away from our group in days, and to be honest I just fell into unconsciousness faster than a kid after school camp.

 My mind is being stacked full of memorable moments and I haven’t touched pen to paper yet. My brain is being stretched and kneaded to embrace new concepts and piece together the puzzles of life. I want to tell you about the nostalgia, the sand dunes, tapping on the dash singing along with the sun sparking the glint in my eyes, a wholeness in my belly, revisiting spaces and having an entirely different experience, watching my thoughts flow through the tubes of my conscious like rainbow hundreds and thousands; some black and toxic and others bright and equaling peace on earth. I want to tell you about sorting through new information, trusting my gut, how I felt listening to the group sing waiting on the world to change, staring up at the neon stars and spinning with Celia, feeling the trees sway under the weight of wildlife, growing less afraid of everything, driving roads carved from red, purple, yellow and white earth, tears flooding my eyes from various realisations, slowly accepting differences, observing my faults, searching for my fire starters, revisiting values, feeling exhausted from the space-shuttle ride of emotions that can occur without leaving one spot on the ground, the questioning of time and the role of human greed and empowerment. I want to tell you about the new people in my life, their stories, their traits, the inspiration, the muse, the adventures we’ve had, the fabric we’ve stitched, the support we have built. I want to rewind and remind you about the big dead turtle, the wild guide on Fraser Island, the freshest lakes on earth, the underwater wonderland, the lady who gave us chocolate on the highway, the aboriginal group who sang for us, the big banana cake, the majestic feeling of surfing in the rain at dusk, the spanner thrown in my throat when one of us had to leave early. I want to tell you about the importance of a lack of expectations; if you have none, you will be elated with the results. We have travelled and challenged, thrown questions that blow one another away. We are hundreds of different lines that are travelling along the same wave length for some distance together. I am learning the importance of serving with love, whether it is with fresh soil in my hands, chopping food on a board, parting knowledge with patience or in the face of frustration. Over a month ago in Mongolia I wrote a huge bucket list. I revisit that today and realise that in a month I haven’t achieved any of the measurable goals I stated, yet I have developed exponentially. If I could continue to find inspiration that stirs the full pot in my mind right down to the very base for the rest of my life, it will be a most valuable lifetime. We arrived as blank canvasses a few weeks ago that have now been thrown into colour with pictures of the past, distinctive laughs, figuring out who doesn’t like heights, a snapshot of the future and a bit of vegemite. 



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