Lately...

A short visual story about possibilities.

Hello Everyone,

I hope this letter finds you well. Spirit has been speaking to me quite clearly lately, and I’m listening with all my senses. I mentioned a few weeks ago that one of my past Reiki students invited me to her ancestral healing workshop, and besides the immense pride I felt for her, I also received very clear instructions about what to create next.

Here’s the note where I share my experience about it:

So, I’ve been busy putting together a website to host all the new offerings. It’s almost finished, and as soon as it’s done, I’ll share it with you. But today I want to share a short story of possibilities with you. Hubby and I took a break for a road trip to the north of the state early this week, and as well as holding many moments of tranquillity and natural beauty, it was also a reminder that life is full of possibilities, and that we can choose to live a life less ordinary if we’re willing to take a few risks and step out of conventional thinking.

I hope you enjoy this instalment of “lately.”

Lately… A Short Story of Possibilities

Let’s start here, at our first stop along the way, with the view from the toilet.

The cafe is Called Bunch, in Oatlands. It has a wood fire for pizzas!

When I say Lutruwita is a breathtakingly beautiful place, I truly mean it. The natural beauty of this island can bring you to tears, but the people in the country towns take curating their own views of beauty very seriously. Why wouldn’t you treat your patrons to a view from the toilet? And if you’re going to choose to live in a tiny town, in the middle of nowhere, and hope to make a living offering hospitality to people passing through on their way to somewhere else, then wouldn’t you go the extra mile? Wouldn’t you harness everything you have and create something so special that people are compelled to stop and experience your life choices?

Our first destination was the tiny town of Ross, established as a military garrison in 1821, built by convicts and served as a female convict factory station. These days, it’s a quaint town full of sandstone Georgian architecture with a fabulous bakery. We stopped here for a vintage car show for hubby and a spot of vintage shopping for me.

I bought this super sweet little tricycle and jam pot set from a woman who’d set up a tiny market stall on the side of the main road. The tricycle was clearly very vintage, and the jam pot had holes drilled into the bottom, transforming it into a quirky little planter. I couldn’t resist. There was something fitting about that, too, old things being given another life in a town where people seem determined to make beauty and possibility out of whatever they have.

I wish I’d taken a photo of the ladies stall, or had the presence of mind to grab a snap of the set up against the white picket fence where I spotted it, but here it is in front of my half done veggie patch.

I spent some time chatting with the lady, as you do here, and she told me she lived a few streets back, where hardly anyone ventured, so she’d asked her friend on the main road if she could set herself up outside his gorgeous old home instead. And perhaps that’s part of the secret to living a life of possibilities. It takes a village. Collaboration, generosity and community spirit are often the very things that make alternative ways of living possible.

And then back on the road, heading to one of our favourite vineyards. But on the way, we drove past this roadside farm stall in the middle of nowhere.

Lutruwita is full of these random little spots along the roadside where you can fill your car with fresh farm produce, local berries, garlic, eggs and honey. It’s a strange thing to be driving along an almost deserted road and suddenly come across a homestead with its own tiny supermarket out front.

It takes courage, doesn’t it? To live far away from the convenience of supermarkets and takeaways, to rely more heavily on the land and the work of your own hands.

But perhaps even more than that, it takes courage to rely on the people around you in these remote places. To trust they will be there for you when you need them, and to commit yourself to being there for them in return.

This kind of life asks something of people. It demands participation, conviction, reciprocity. It asks you to show up for yourself, for the land and for your community.

I admire this sort of courage. I’m not entirely sure I possess it yet, but life is always full of possibilities…

And across the road from the honey stop, rolling vineyards. Exquisite.

And here, our final destination, where we indulged in a little wine tasting and admiration of the surroundings.

Josef Chromy, French traditional winemaking at the very bottom of the world.

I do so love this island state I find myself inhabiting. Now that Bruno is no longer with us, we’ll have more opportunities to travel, and I’ll be sure to take you along with me.

With Much Love,