New Zealand next

Sunday 28 May

I’ve been here a week already. And compared to Thailand it has been refreshingly uneventful.

As soon as I landed my New Zealand brother handed me a warm weatherproof coat for the sudden temperature change, and since then I have been wrapped in the warm cosy safety of my brother and his girlfriend’s home at the edge of their residential estate near Queenstown. This lovely comfortable world of spotless kitchen-tops, neatly mown lawn, two cars, two dogs, fluffy towels, snuggly dressing gowns and soft blankets to drink red wine while watching TV under. They are amazing hosts – my brother has sorted me out a sim card and won’t let me pay for anything – and we talk about electric vehicle efficiency and fixed term mortgages over quorn and broccoli. We are middle aged suburban white people and I love how far apart both my brothers’ worlds are, and that I am lovingly welcome in both. I think Thailand served as a suitable place to process all those bizarrely intense emotions of letting go of Melksham, which has left my heart all peaceful and clean to have a simple and beautiful time here.

My New Zealand days are spent on gorgeous walks with the dogs in spectacular mountainous landscapes and the nights are spent on chilled out beers with Dave’s friends where we chat about mountain bike trails, electrician apprenticeships and the increasing cost of rent in Queenstown.

Of course it’s expensive here – it’s unbelievably beautiful. Even before the full snowy adventures of June and July, the stunning mountains surrounding Queenstown are topped with snow, highlighting the dark jagged edges of the immense peaks. Naturally, I asked to go play in the snow so my brother drove us with the dogs to Coronet Peak, a not yet open ski-field where there is sufficient white stuff for some touristy photos – including one that got me locked into a ski-lift which I had to to climb laughing out of. 

Contrast of temperatures fully appreciated, and jetlag now fully recovered, this morning I embarked on my first mini adventure on my own. I’m not particularly bothered by the range of adrenaline activities on offer here – the town centre is full of businsses that promise to drop you off a bridge, into a canyon or out of the sky – and while I have wondered about skydiving, there’s no need to throw £170 literally out the window.

Instead I wondered if there were any pursuits for mental clarity and found the Queenstown Dharma Centre offering meditation sessions on Sunday mornings. My brother dropped me off at Lake Street (having politely declined my invitation to join in with a ‘Fuck No’) and I followed the signs to a warm incense scented room at the back of someone’s house. A handful of kneeling people turned to smile and nod at me as I took my place on a cushion, before the teacher at the front in a warm woolly jumper started the session. It was familiarly religious, with polite explanations for newbies, mumbled reciting of vows and lots of meditative breath work all in the warm embrace of gentle friendliness. The fact that we all recited from neat green books, laid out beautifully on small tables in front of floormats and cushions ready to welcome a dozen brethren made me feel already at home. At peace. Welcomed.

As I joined with the others in a meditative reading of vows (including to live with a sensitive and responsible awareness of the whole ecology of life and to dwell on the mind of spontaneous generosity) I toyed with the idea of dropping everything and disappearing into a Buddhist ashram for a year or two. How simple and clean to completely disappar into a serene spiritual sanctuary. But no, I have stuff to do. I’d like to embody the values and serenity of this peaceful set of ethics – especially the bit about surrendering to the mystery of interbeing – but at the same time as pursuing a productive and connected life. 

There was an important bit about letting go and being unattached, which a few of us nodded knowingly at, and a gorgeous guided meditation in which we all breathed in the love and light of the universe into a sparkling crystal lotus flower in our hearts which then breathed out love and light to the world around us. I will hold on to that vision, it’s very lovely. 

At the end, in the post-mindful peaceful appreciative hush, there was an invitation to the equally as important social session, which I gratefully joined, sharing stories over lemongrass tea and vegan cookies. Two people were from Malmesbury, less than an hour from Melksham (such is the small world nature of Queenstown) and one had also just quit her job and was looking for clarity before the next thing. I made some jovial comment about the loveliness of finding a peaceful activity to join in Queenstown while everyone seems to come here to jump off things. It turns out one of the brothers – who had been tidying away the cushions and Puja books – is a skydive instructor with Nzone in town. 

‘Oh, I thought about doing a skydive, ’ I said, ‘But 319 dollars?!’ 

‘Yes, because of the safety,’ he explained. ‘We’re putting our lives at risk every day so there’s lots of training and precautions which is why it costs so much.’

‘Yes of course,’ I nodded understandingly, sorry to have belittled his livelihood. He and another guy talked about the far more extreme sport of base jumping and he was keen to emphasise the respect required for the mountain when you decide to take a flying jump off it. 

I was happy to have no desire to jump off anything, and instead said goodbye and wandered along the lake shore to Queenstown Gardens, magnificent in the orange and gold leaves of autumn. With half an hour till my bus, of course I made a heart out of pine cones. And as I arranged them on the soft ground under the huge trees, I wondered if I could hold on to the love and beauty of the morning’s contemplations while looking for my next job. Is it possible to find an occupation that embodies the intentions of spontaneous generosity, compassion and service while also protecting myself from the exhaustion, resentment and self-destruction of disingenuous people pleasing?

It’s a delicate balance to hold. To be a person of kindness and love to others while also showing the same kindness and love to myself.

I wondered if instead of scouring through job adverts to see what feels right, I could design my perfect job instead. What if I could write out the person spec and job description of my ideal job, and then put that out into the world to see if that job exists? Wouldn’t that be a great exercise in clarifying and cataloguing my values, skills and priorities? And wouldn’t it be incredibly scary to believe that I could have that much control over my destiny, instead of being swayed by what everyone else around me wants?

We watched Guardians of the Galaxy 3 a couple days ago in the little Queenstown Cinema. I loved it, cried full on face-creasing sobs through most of it, which baffled my brother. Because as well as the sheer love of these guardians for each other, and some unbelievably heart wrenching scenes with baby animals, there was a moment that resonated with me when one of the characters (tiny spoiler alert) says, teary-eyed, ‘I love you all, but my whole life, I did whatever Ego wanted, and then I did whatever the Guardians wanted. I need to go out and discover what I want.’

More crying…

And so while I have planned to spend some time this week job hunting, I may also spend some time job creating.

Lessons:

*The town centre of Queenstown has a very little window of sunshine in May. Even if the whole valley is in glorious sun the town is in cold shade pretty much all afternoon.

*Photos work best when there’s sunshine on foreground autumn trees and shade on mountainous background. The other way round is shit, stop trying to make it look good. 

*The number 5 bus from Stanley Street in Queenstown to Lake Hayes Estate goes every hour for two dollars! Its glorious. Use it lots. 

*Lake Street is the steepest road in Queenstown. Allow extra time to walk up it as it’s so difficult.

*Here’s a lovely mantra to meditate with:

Frequently I will pause to breathe mindfully and recontact a mode of being which embodies simplicity, openness, clarity, connectedness and caring. I will endeavour to bring a continuum of compassionate awareness into all my life’s activities. THE HEART OF AWAKENING, Daily Puja Book

The beauty of conflict

I had to call my counsellor again on Monday. I would have normally dealt with the anxiety and overwhelm on my own but because my job required me to attend the Monday night meeting, I needed to quickly tidy up my spinning head before 7pm. We had a ten minute call in which I breathlessly explained that things were getting really tense at work, there was a lot of conflict and hurt around, and I was scared of attending this meeting in which I’d be stuck in the middle of it all. She very gently got me to slow down and speak clearly, and asked me why the conflict was bothering me.

Continue reading “The beauty of conflict”

Untethering My Voice part 2

After last week’s session in which we looked at all the ways we might be avoiding telling our stories, our homework was to arrive at tonight’s zoom class with a large piece of paper.

And after a discussion about the scary state of the world and how difficult it is to feel like this process is even relevant while there are immense global issues touching everyone’s lives right now, Cara suggested that a time of turmoil is one in which a lot of ugliness is surfacing, but on the other side is a possible awakening, an awareness, and a striving for the beauty, truth and connection that is the opposite of the division and fear bubbling over in some places.

Continue reading “Untethering My Voice part 2”

Positive Thinking

I recently learned that you can’t get Vitamin D from sunshine through windows, and since ours only open up for a 15cm strip of direct sunlight on my face, I am now perched on the windowsill with one leg out of the window to get some 10am sunshine on my skin. It’s very uncomfortable and actually quite cold but I am grateful that we can still get sunshine up here.

So I got little snippets of anxiety again because lockdown eases a bit this week. But the guidance is so vague, and the message is basically you’re on your own. Dickheads can be dickheads and police can’t stop them. Try not to get sick, but it’s your own fault if you do. That’s what my facebook filtered world seems to be concerned about this week. On our family Zoom on Sunday, we had the usual update from around the world about the death rates. My New Zealand brother celebrated the success of ‘Aunty Jacinda’ (who is younger than him) in winning the worldwide competition against the virus, while my New York brother talked about friends of his friends who had died. London brother explained that we’re passed the peak in Britain, but you’re still only allowed out for essential exercise, so you can sit in the park but if you see the police coming you have to start doing sit-ups. Korea brother said there’s been no new cases for four days so everyone in Seoul is going out again, so they will probably be another spike, while Spanish sister went for her first run for ten weeks on Saturday. All her neighbours were waiting on their doorsteps at 8am, counting down the seconds till they were allowed out. We laugh about our lockdown hair, the boys compare beards, while my niece falls asleep on her mum’s lap, and the full weight of the international impact of this thing hits home.

Then I started to worry yesterday because my love opened a tin of mandarins, and I said ‘Oh the tinned food is for if we can’t get fresh fruit.’ A small argument ensued about the amount of tins in the house, the likelihood for the interruption of the supply chain and the invincibility of the three people we depend on for shopping, until I remembered my anxiety is the thing that causes him stress, so I shut up, but still quietly counted up the tins and watered my tiny new baby apple trees.

So to dispel my catastrophic thinking, this morning I found some powerful positive messages to pump into my head over my porridge. I am trying to get into a place of love and acceptance of whatever is coming. This thing is happening to a species on a planet in this universe. I am a tiny speck of that, and I have desires and plans, hopes and intentions, and so do the people I love, but if the direction of this species is towards something else then I have no use for fear and anxiety about that. I want to be in a place of peace and flow, with appreciation and love for my current moment, my sunshine spot right now, my lovely man, and my friends and family who I am connecting to now.

YOU ARE THE PLACEBO – DR JOE DISPENZA

Chakraffirmations

Following my discovery yesterday that I like a bit of colourful energy in my breathing, I have been researching chakras. There are a million sites and illustrations, with some contradictions, but I’ve chosen this picture that I like, from 7Wisdoms.org.

I’m sure there’s far more study that can be done – in fact this site offers me a 21 day course for $21 – but for now what I am enjoying is the categorising! I love a colour-coded categorisation, and if I can work on each aspect of my life along these seven colours, it becomes nicely compartmentalised. And so pretty.

I am in danger of upsetting people who see chakras as far more profound than this, and those who think I’m on the dangerous slippery slope of new age nonsense, but for now, I will enjoy the colours, and see if my affirmations can fit into these seven spheres.

30 days

I have spent the whole day reading The Miracle Morning book – interspersed with yoga, snacks and a National Theatre Live screening – and I am so happy about starting my 30 days tomorrow, for the rest of May why not. There’s a Miracle Morning facebook group full of people sharing their Miracle journeys and I am their newest excited member.

Continue reading “30 days”

The Miracle Morning

I bought this book a few years ago, and I loved the concept but couldn’t stick to it. Mr Hal Elrod outlines a six step program of practices to do every day, to achieve optimum success and happiness. It includes exercise, affirmations, stillness, visualising, reading and writing. I like all these things, I know the value of doing them well, and I love the idea of carving out an hour every morning to focus on them.

Continue reading “The Miracle Morning”