'And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.

And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal. And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.'

- Kitty O'Meara ... Read MoreSee Less

2 weeks ago

I heard on the radio yesterday that loneliness is the new mental health crisis affecting Australians. One in 4 adults will report to feeling lonely. This startling fact led into a program about on-line friendships…and an app called bumble….Bumble apparently is not only for dating, or hooking up for sex alone, but for forging friendships. One antidote to loneliness.

I know the colourful, loud aloneness of single parenting, when the only adult with 2 strong willed, strident adolescents brings a notable absence, the distinct and discordant lack. The imagined wished for other to lean into, gain nourishment, support, perhaps the simple act of making tea. A glance of shared comradery. A load taken on one’s own shoulder can easily become a burden. Where is that village where kids are raised in community?

There is the more factual loneliness of noting how often I am alone. Alone walking on the beach, alone swimming in the river, alone sitting under the spreading river side tree that so generously gives shade, whilst kids swim, disappear to jump off the bridge reappearing for food or their snorkels, or to hop on the paddle board. The paddle board that I have on my own pulled from the garage, hoisted onto the roof of the car, secured tightly so it doesn’t fly off whilst driving. Hauled off the other end, carried to the water’s edge. Assistance of course from my boy, always eager to help.

I am alone right now, except for Lucy, my small, adorable dog.

I walked on the beach for the first time in a while this morning. The heat penetrates and the glare, the hot sand and endless expanse of ocean didn’t entice me. the sun has no bounds on that vast domain. The currents strong, swirling waters in rips and eddies. Waves knock my feet from under me and the whole show feels almost hostile. Aloneness suddenly vulnerable.

the thought of returning to the suburbs, the brick house I now call home, the dull brown grass and parched air did little to enliven me.

Endless chores and lists to attend to, yet I have given myself time out. I have come here, to the river. I swim again and the waters are sleek, cold, smooth and silky. a group of older women sit in the shallows using flotation devices. Grouped in a circle they chat easily between themselves, about the heat and summer traffic causing delays into Byron. I swim out into the wide river and let the current take me, then battle back against the tide. striking out determined. the water is delicious. she is my solace. my own personal goddess to worship and immerse in. Lose my sense of personal self and the endless stories that float close behind me. and let it all go. Floating weightless, the buoyant waters hold me.

tiny fish dart and flit in the shallows. Bigger fish, silver flashes, weave through the flecks of seaweed and shifting light and blue.

three mothers sit in the shade of the tree. 2 babies are cradled on laps and 4 toddles play at the water’s edge. the mothers are young, one with elaborate tattoos. I let their chatter fade and tune more to the swelling distant roar of the ocean. the sudden lapping of water from the wake of a boat that idles up river. a hammock is strung between the eucalyptus trees with peeling bark…..a woman reads a book in a scene that looks to me quite perfect.

I too sit beneath the tree looking out on to the wider expanse of blue. the surface shimmers in a dance with the wind. on the far shore of Christmas beach a flock of birds stand motionless. before me the river melts a liquid blue, a delicate moving alive flowing blue of different hues, subtle and then sudden with deeper shades marking the seaweed clumps that cling to submerged rocks as the tide creeps upward. Blues, then a line of golden sand, greens of the forest and above a paler blue that fills the vast sky. not a cloud.

the birds from Christmas beach takes off and I see now that they are cormorants who wheel and glide then land on the water. The kids on the sand with the tide slowly rising, squabble and one cries. The mother roused into action. i can hear the tiredness in her command, or maybe it is just my own projection.

I’ve retreated within myself lately. I’m tired of my story. of my dissolved life as more and more of me seems taken in the chaos of the unknown. we have to keep blessing God, for all of it. Not just when the waters are blue and smooth, but also the rip tides and eddies that take our feet from under us. who knows the greater plan. how can I know why I am faced with such uncertainty, issues with the kids, with my own self easily eroded.

I can only take responsibility. And practise the subtle but great art, of self-forgiveness.

A gull, startling white against the blue, turns circles in the sky. Joined by another they dip and dive in unison.

It seems as if storm clouds of grief inhabit my soul.



I find solace in aloneness. I find a quiet whisper on the breeze. I notice the language of light and the play of sun and shadow. This tree offering shade around me has heart shaped leaves and the paper bark seems to lean in against her.

The moms are packing up. the toddlers tired. prams are packed and sandy, red faced kids ushered to the shower.

The river beach now empty but the blue canoe moored on the sand. An idyllic scene and it’s all mine. I find deep nourishment from the rising waters, the green tinged blue and the feel of the wind against my skin. The elements and my small place within it all. Thoughts meander and ideas reach down, as gentle as a bird wing to brush against my being. And easy too in the general rush and bother of life for these ideas to fly on by, unless captured by the net of my pen and carefully laid out. Aloneness is a gift. To take the precious time to simply be quiet and recede within oneself.. Allow the waters of our life to gently lap the shore line. Loneliness, like the host of emotions and feelings, comes and visits for a while. Only to shift and change as it all will do. ... Read MoreSee Less

9 months ago