The Daily Blog - Sweeping up.

Happening

Our new digs. Lovely. Space. A verandah. Big trees.

We have moved into a beautiful little unit now. Today I met Chim and Anne, the two people who run the centre.

Mark and I went for a walk up the hill to where we thought we'd find Chim. The Origins Centre is on the south side of a steep hill. Really, it's not a hill but the side of a wide gully, but it is steep. We wound our way up past small piles of debris: leaves and branches: the forrest litter that some people see as the mulch layer that feeds the next generation of plants, animals, reptiles, insects and all the worms, microbes and bacteria that create soil; other people look at it as "fuel load". 

All these little piles are getting ready to be burned. This is explained by the presence of small but plentiful blackberry sprouts. They burned this time last year, clearing the hillside of a massive infestation of blackberry bushes. And they did a magnificent job. The birds here are plentiful - and Chim says they've had people do surveys which confirm that. The hill looks clear and open and inviting - for new growth as well as people. It's just a matter of trying to ensure that new growth isn't blackberry. And they (now we) do keep logs that can make habitat.

Chim spoke about the centre and its history. Interesting stuff - tying together different strands of Buddhism (from Nepal and Burma); separating the Buddhist practice at Corrain (up the hill) from the space down the hill which is open to people of all faith interested in mindfulness, or just being in a mindful space for a while. But my interest was caught when he spoke about the state of WA mental health services. Not good. In the past they have had health workers drop off people here - people who were in crisis and needed support but which wasn't available. It is easy to see why this would happen, but the pressure it must have put on an organisation with no funding, support, dedicated facilities or staff here to cater for people suffering from a serious mental health condition or episode must have been enormously taxing, and risky! Eventually, Chim said, they had to get all the local mental health services together and say that they just weren't set up for it and couldn't do it.

I don't imagine this fixed the mental health care situation, so there must have been people struggling and pushed onto other ill-equippied providers or left in places which, while equipped, were overstretched.

Apart from that we talked about the different jobs: including building a little prayer space near the pagoda, and of course managing the blackberries (with Brian, a local farmer we also met today. He has supervised lots of burns for DEC, which is good since I've never done one before.) There's also a veggie garden Lily, Mark and I are all keen to get some winter veggies into.

Anne showed us around and spent quite a bit of time with Lily introducing her to how the office runs. This led straight into Lily being given her first task, which was to make a flier for a famous international sitar player, who is coming to play here on the 20th of April, at 7pm.

There's a hope and assumption on both sides that we're going to stay for a while, and with our skills we have put our hands up to take on some of the responsibilities of helping manage the office and look after the grounds. But there's also an assumption that it does have to evolve and work out for everyone. It feels like it might. It's been a lovely day.

Our new home is briliant. A little two room place with a verandah overlooking the valley and within a few metres of massive eucalypts wide enough I can't reach around them and at least 30 metres tall. White trunks with masses of bark strips peeling off half way up. A gorgeous space to spend time. And a desk!

Observing

I sat at the top of the stairs. Hong was sweeping the bricks around the main building. She was wearing a moss-brown woollen hat, black thermals, a pink singlet, a lightweight grey scarf with a black spotted print, pale old pants that ended above her ankles, black stockings and purple thongs. She used one of those hand-brooms, a dustpan and a bucket.

Slowly, she worked her way around the building. Patiently sweeping, then squatting to clean up whatever she had collected, leaving behind her a trail of perfect order.

She had the kind of balance that I remember seeing so many women have during the time I spent in Korea. Hong is Malaysian. She has that balance and power that seems to sit in her belly and inside her hips. Solid, and strong.

Over dinner we chatted. I spoke about how even coming into such a peaceful place I still had a busy mind: "How does that work? Who is this person? I haven't met everyone... What do I need to know or do now?" Hong talked about doing whatever is easy, settling in and having a "no bell" mind rather than a "nobel" mind - that  is, not worrying about the program, just doing whatever I need at that time. When I am ready, then do whatever needs to be done. Before that, just rest, or whatever is needed to get ready. Then she laughed. So much of her ideas were about lightness. She laughed a lot.

Just before the top of the steps towards the Peace Pagoda, to the right, there is a little shrine. It is to Hong's husband, who is buried there. He died nine years ago. On his plaque in amongst the references to his loving memory etc. is a reference to "his piglet wife".

Love, humility and humour.

Things I'm grateful for

Lily being moved and centred here. There was a moment after we moved in when she hopped on the bed to give me a hug and I could see the happiness radiating in her.

Lily cooked a lovely dinner.

We chatted with a few of the people here over dinner. Keri, Marcus and Hong: it was nice to gently take a few steps forwards.

The new room.

The trees.

The welcome I received from Brian, then Chim, then Anne. Really warm and optimistic.

Time to write! Check out the Plays page for the sneak preview of Act 1 of my new play Crazy Man.