A Source of Inspiration

I have just been privileged to watch a wonderful exchange of human kindness and honesty displayed on my home television screen ...

The Secret Millionaire program took multi-millionaire, Peter Bond, to live for a week in Redfern, an underprivileged suburb of Sydney. There he volunteers his time in community centres and hangs out with community characters. He learns that a place so badly represented in the media, where job prospects are dim and families struggle to survive intact, has an amazing spirit which comes from within. The generous and welcoming spirit of the people he meets is inspirational, and I am particularly struck by the support programs on offer at the community centres. There is much to be learned from this experience. So not only did Peter himself feel humbled by the kindness and generosity of Redfern, but my heart and soul have been touched also.

As with many of these programs I watch, my mind is racing to determine what I can learn from this experience and how I can pass this on to my family ...

Peter's words are still ringing in my ears: "If we all put in a few hours of volunteer work and contributed a few bucks, then we could make our world a better place. Simple as that."

❤ A Dedication To Special Friends ❤

My life started out full of hope and promise with my parents looking on.
Both new to town, their cultural background slightly different from everyone.
However those dreams were shattered when in May my Father suddenly died.
My Mother was pregnant with her second child and me, I was barely one.

It is this event, I believe, that has shaped the heart that beats inside of me.
Affecting the choices I've made in my life and all the responsibility.
I tend to carry the world on my shoulders and lighten the burden of others.
But it doesn't take away the pain I suffer, the pain that nobody can see.

A few people have managed to enter my heart, and there they will always stay.
For richer, for poorer, in times of joy and sadness or even when it's barely okay.
They belong in my heart forever and ever, as we once had a strong connection.
And it doesn't matter where I live or how I change, it's comforting in that way.

So I call out to the stars above me to say 'thank you' for those sent to guide.
Each one of them special and trustworthy, so it was right for me to confide.
My fears are safe, my thoughts expressed, maybe now I can drift off to sleep.
So, my friends, please know you're loved and appreciated by coming along for the ride ...

The Tanami

It was hot, dry and dusty,
And I don't suppose it's changed.
A place we called "the Tanami",
Our affections you'd find quite strange.


For according to the passer by,
if you travel along the Tanami Track.
There is little to see or do,
except for the infamous Rabbit Flat.


Ah yes, that favourite watering hole,
Where boys were cajolled to manhood initiations.
And caretakers Bruce and Jackie,
lived an eccentric life out in the isolation.


We lived in the desert too,
in camps with names of "DBS" and "Ivy".
"The Granites" mine not far away,
but only the accommodation we would envy.


For exploration geos and fieldies,
were free to roam the endless red expanse.



(a working progress)

Writing ...

Yesterday I rejoiced in the ability to write down my thoughts for a few hours, which I quickly interpreted as a blessing ...

Today I am almost cursing the flow of words in my head because their persistence has interrupted my early morning sleep!

This feels like an unusual time in my life ... a time where I have the freedom of thought combined with opportunities in which to write them down. On previous occasions of creativity there has existed a strong feeling of self-doubt, a doubt in my ability to express my thoughts 'properly' due to the lack of formal training. Although this feeling still exists, the need to rid my brain of thoughts, stories and memories overrides my fear of failure. And, I guess, there is the possibility I might just get better through practice!

So, here goes ... practice, practice, practice.

Just a boy

He came to me yesterday, in the late afternoon, to say goodbye.

I didn't know he and his family were planning to leave ... my reactions were mixed and I felt awkward. But he stayed, and we talked whilst I made a chicken pie.

Who was this boy, now 14? I had known him since he was 10, but he had been absent for the last 2 years ...

We talked about his return to the school he had left less than 6 months ago, the work arrangements of his Mother and step-Father, his relationship with them and his Father, and how he felt about moving again. Luckily he said he could laugh about it. "Not many people can say they get the chance to move from one side of Australia to the other so often!" "Well", I said, "I am glad you can feel that way."

Who was this boy? He certainly wasn't the boy that regularly came to my house after school all those years ago. That young boy was struggling with the consequences of going home to an empty house, to having a strict and often unfair step-Father, of living with a Mother who could not think of anybody but herself, and who was locked in a cycle of pain. He often needed a shoulder to cry on, an escape from his own world and he managed to find that here at our house. Although it was a very difficult experience for me because of his behaviour, I knew it was a good thing for him and I let him stay.

"I've decided on my career already, Tara." Today he is full of news. He tells me about his future plans ... job, hobbies and travel. I see a different boy. A boy who is resigned to the life he leads with all its responsibilities and loneliness. Yet he is standing up and making choices for himself as well as setting out his dreams. It is a far more positive life than I had foreseen for him. Suddenly I am proud of him. Proud he is choosing a different path than his circumstances would deem probable.

But remember that glimmer of hope you had for him? Yes, I had almost forgotten. He had come back to visit one holidays after he had been sent away to live with his Father. His excitement to see us again couldn't be contained, but I was wary. That afternoon we sat outside to talk. And he played with our dog. It was the first clue to his change in behaviour. Instead of teasing the dog, he caressed him. He thanked me for being part of his life and was interested in how I had been. What a change! Those 10 minutes gave me hope for his future.

Then came another turn in his life, which I felt sure was going to set him back. Now here he is ... still just a boy; but a boy full of optimism, intuition and resilience. Good luck my darling, please follow this path and become the man your dreaming of ...