I missed November’s deadline to get my monthly blog up and here it is end of December – 2021 just around the corner. The last two months have been difficult emotionally – a roller coaster ride of joys and sorrows. Early one morning in September I sat on a rock in Simpson’s Gap. My brother, his partner and myself were the only ones in here. This place has to be in one of its most spiritual moments in eternity. A family of rock wallabies gave life and movement to the towering ancient red rock formation, and a flock of zebra finches congregated and chittered in a river gum. Their song echoed through the hauntingly silent ravine. I could have just sat there for hours – contemplating life and loss, joy and sorrow. I have some photos of the breathtaking beauty of this place. You will find them in Posts on one of my two Facebook pages.
From the breathtaking beauty of Central Australia through Central to Far North Queensland we wended our way to the rainforests. Here the balmy tropical air just wraps itself around you and puts a holiday smile on your face. People live here in small clearings, constantly fighting back the forest that wants to close over any gap. I remember how exciting it was to be here in the seventies when these places were teeming with hippies who lived in communes – in huts they’d built themselves. Grew their own food, collected berries (and mushrooms!) from their surroundings, made their own clothes, played music, made love. What a free life. I swear some of them are still here today – grey-haired – saggy skin hanging on still-lanky lentil-fed bodies. Probably make a few extra dollars at the weekend markets – selling beads, sandals, honey, fruit-of-the forest jams, gluten-free breads.
I don’t know if it’s just me or if others come back from a holiday filled with a desire to bring back with you some of the culture you’ve been in, or else to leave your home and sensible life and become entrenched for a while in the part of the world you’ve loved being in. On my return from this trip, I just wanted to pack a few things and go to lease a hut in one of these forest clearings and write a book. It would be an environment where my creative juices would flow wildly, I’m sure. The clear fresh air, the sounds of wildlife, birdsong, the smell of soft damp earth, little housework (sweep the leaves from the verandah once in a while). One would be inspired to eat lentils, chickpeas and lettuce. Lose weight and end up looking like one of those skinny local hippies – with another book under her belt in less than a year! Makes me want to simplify my life here. My lifestyle is ridiculously busy maintaining properties – to what end? The book that is waiting to be written needs a quieter, stiller environment and mind. I guess the reality would be tougher than the imagined idyll.
I have an old friend who lives a much simpler life than I do. At eighty two he is still writing as if his life depended on it. He must feel that life is running out, and what do you do with still so much mulling around in your head, waiting to be expressed. We write because readers want us to. Where would we be without authors and consequently books? And writing helps writers see themselves and life more clearly. We quest for answers to the unanswerable – knowledge we will probably never gain in this life. Where do we come from? Why are we here? Where are we going? I watched a beautiful movie last night – ‘Song to Song’ with one of my favourite actors, Ryan Gosling. It was like one long beautiful love poem. Very Art-house. The focus was on the characters’ contemplation of their existence. Everything about the movie was soft, warm, painful. I wrote down some of its lines –
‘I’ve never been where we’ve been.’
‘Maybe what stirs me is having wild people around me.’
‘We can’t go back, because now it’s done.’
‘You’re so far off.’
‘Come. Save me from my sad heart’ –
from ‘Song to Song.’
Even writing this now has quietened my mind, healed me a little more. As always I am grateful for the visual bounty of our Earth, for art, music, poems, friends, love.
To any who may be reading this, I wish you the same stillness, even if in small moments, in today’s sometimes crazy, uncertain world.
With caring,
Sue