We’ve just landed in rainy Sydney.
The desert was …
aaaaaaaaah
spacious
simple
uncluttered
grounding
quiet
still
aaaaaaaaaah
Seeing the city of Sydney through the plane window was a little unsettling.
That’s all I have to say right now … I will allow myself to adjust before sharing more of the desert experience with you.
Sitting on the bus, half way to Uluru now, and it’s pouring with rain. So different to what I was expecting. There’s a little voice inside me trying to be heard, it’s saying “This is going to be a disappointment”. But the interesting thing about being a long-term
a bus, in the rain - not how I planned it - I trust
meditator is that you notice these thoughts when they are still seeds. Before I learnt about meditation and how the mind works I probably would have grown a jungle of disappointment by now. But I’m content to notice this little seed, and instead of watering it, I’m adding another seed next to it, the seed of trust. I trust that this is exactly the right time for me to be here, and that I will have the holiday I’m meant to have.
Earlier this year I wrote a meditation about trust and I’m finding it helpful this afternoon to reflect on the words:
I am strong and my mind is powerful.
I turn away from limiting thoughts and beliefs.
I choose to fill my mind with energising, helpful thoughts.
I allow myself to return to a state of trust
I trust in life, I trust in myself, I trust.
Everything I need I already have.
Everything I have a right to claim will come to me.
I trust
Every person who belongs in my circle of love ill find me
Every purpose for which I came here will be fulfilled
I trust
Everything I no longer need will make way for something new
Everything I need I already have
I trust
I trust in life.
(If you would like to hear this meditation with David’s beautiful music, it’s on the CD called “Worry-free: meditations to reduce anxiety and tension”, part of the ABC “Meditations for Life” series. There’s information on our website www.peaceaudio.com)
The daylight will be gone soon, back to watching the raindrops skip across the bus window.
Well, you’ve no doubt heard the phrase “go with the flow”. This trip to Uluru is reminding me to do just that. We’ve flown from Melbourne to Alice Springs. The airline has just announced that the next flight, which was to deliver us to Uluru, has been cancelled. Apparently it’s raining heavily in the desert and the plane won’t be able to land.
They are providing a bus service, but it’s a long trip, and we’ll arrive at Uluru in the night instead of the afternoon. And all we can do is go with the flow … of rain. You can’t fight Mother Nature. My main concern is to rid myself of a feeling of disappointment that I won’t see that bright blue sky and the blazing red desert – I was really looking forward to that. But it seems that this, my third trip “home” is going to offer me a new experience, and some new personal insights no doubt.
Acceptance is a wonderful thing – I accept that this is how my holiday is going to be. Thank you Mother Nature for reminding me of this lesson.
I’ve just heard that the reason there are no hire cars is that there is a big desert race going on this weekend. www.finkedesertrace.com.au
I’m flying to Alice Springs as I write this. It’s the day after my birthday and my partner and I are heading to Uluru for a few days of much needed rest. In the last year we’ve written, recorded, produced and promoted 8 guided meditation CDs for ABC Music’s “Meditations for Life” series. Wonderful, fulfilling work, but also intensely detailed and time-consuming and we decided a visit to the centre of Australia would be restful and rejuvenating.
I’ve been to Uluru twice before, and I’m really looking forward to the energy of the red desert. I feel a strong connection to the land in Uluru, and the only other place in the world I’ve had a strong emotional response is the Solomon Islands. I went to the Solomons for the first time in 1991. As I stepped off the plane and put my foot on the tarmac, I started crying and had the overwhelming feeling that I had come home. That was a surprise. Maybe in a previous lifetime I had lived there? It certainly felt like that.
My first time in Uluru was when I presented a meditation session at a conference in 1999. My partner was presenting with me, and we had some amazing experiences which I’ll share in another blog (especially the ceremony with White Eagle Woman and her Grandmother Drum). After the conference we hired a car to see some of the country between Uluru and Alice Springs. As we drove away from Uluru, and as the red desert finally receded, I found myself crying. I was sad to leave the desert. At the time I felt like I couldn’t bear to be parted from the red centre and the powdery red dust that covered the ground and felt so soft under my feet and which made me feel that the whole landscape was my living room.
I have moved many times in my life since I was a little girl, so nowhere in the world feels like home to me. I was born in England, to a Polish father and an English mother, I went to my first school in Nigeria in West Africa, then back to another part of England. Since moving to Australia aged ten, I’ve lived in Queensland, Tasmania, South Australia, NSW and Victoria, yet nowhere feels like home. So it’s wonderful to find places on this planet that touch me deeply and make me feel I’ve come home.
The second time I went to Uluru was on my 50th birthday, with a girlfriend who turned 50 the next day and we both wanted to mark the moment by being somewhere special. We spent our first day at Kata Tjuta. I’d developed a fever overnight so all I could do was muster the energy to sit and face the rocks. As I sat, I felt as if energy was pouring into me, into the centre of my chest, from the rocks. The next morning we went to watch the sunrise at Uluru, and this time I felt as if “shadows” were being drawn out of me, and absorbed by the great monolith. I should point out that this is quite unusual for me, I don’t usually sense, or see or experience energy so tangibly. But I do believe that Uluru is a very sacred place, and I was grateful for these unique experiences.
I wonder what my trip home will bring this time?
