Interview
A Horse, A Cart & Two Options by guest blogger Monique Germon
March, 2011
Sunnataram Forest Monastery, Bundanoon
Entering the gates of the Sunnataram Monastery, I spot two monks in the distance. An out of the blue observation arises, regarding their probable lack of internet addiction. I laugh out loud. Once again, my mind attempts to sway me from meditation class. For God’s sake, you’ve been trying to get here for two years. You’re HERE – just do it.
I walk towards the buildings and see a sign that touches me with its quaint & simple instruction: ‘BE MINDFUL & SMILE’
Following its lead, I relax and remember how good this stuff used to make me feel. I sit and wait for the bell to ring, thinking about the importance of time out for all of our ‘selves’. I smile at the monks for in regards to time, they have it ‘sussed.’ No meat, no drugs, nothing bad in temple – check check check. I put my hair up just in case.
Suddenly, I am greeted by a charming host with beautiful blonde hair and am shown into the meditation hall. Other punters arrive and there are warm smiles all round. Going well and yep, happy I came. Love that guys tatts. Love Aussie blokes who come to these places. Traditional Buddhist monks sitting with you beaut, Boonie-lovers; most certainly my kind of wonderful.
Next thing the resident cat takes a liking to me and purring ferociously, settles in my lap. Even better – check it OUT. Perhaps this will lead to investigations that I am chosen to birth the next incarnation of His Holiness. I can’t believe you just thought that – you are serious hilarious.
Though I like to think of myself as somewhat ‘practised’ in Buddhist methodologies (I have even met the man himself like most good-little-seekers), this is not the sect I have spent time with and all ‘prostrations’ are different. I ask the woman next to me if she would please show me her best prostration and she kindly hits the floor, faces the giant golden Buddha, places her hands together, touches her head, heart, hands to floor and she’s back up again. I am reminded of old adventures, passing pilgrims who do this for hundreds of miles. My heart opens a little. Even more glad I came. I want to hug the woman for smiling so sincerely to a stranger but realise this is probably inappropriate & manage to contain my affections.
Soon after 6pm a door opens to my left and three monks walk in. We all bow towards them, they to each other and then everyone prostrates like crazy to the Buddha. Thoughts begin to arise such as; Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this, blah blah blah. Oh hello Ms Ego – it’s been a while since you & I have hung out.
Ding dong, we chant for half an hour and then embark on meditating for forty-five minutes. After a total of five I may as well be a freshly opened bottle of Doctor Pepper, rattling to the boom bass of a Whitesnake set. I want to be here and I don’t. My head thus begins a crescendo into The Cuckoo’s Nest.
Bloody hell, my head is like a SCRUM, a giant footy scrum that spans all of Exeter oval! This is bad. My mind is fucking nuts! I should never have neglected this stuff. (God – YAWN, like we’ve never heard that before). Ok then, just drop the tiara you try-hard Tenzin. It’s fine. Nuh-uh, are you kidding me?! This is NOT FINE, NOT FINE, NOT FINE! What the fuck was I thinking? Do you realise that you’re swearing in a temple?! Nice one. You may as well have been wheeled in on a giant pig-on-a-spit wearing a G-string.
It all gets a hell of a lot worse when I realise that I am, tragically; Elizabeth Gilbert. Even sadder than this; I think I am Julia Roberts! Will you listen to this voice over going on?! Does my MIND now have an American accent?! This is precisely what happens when you are raised on vegemite soldiers and The Cosby Show. Oh America, you were our HERO – what on earth happened? All these 2012 end of the world predictions must mean the fall of the U.S for sure. It’s a shame, the Donut King days were kind of fun. Yet, behold, China is check-mating The States & we can only thank our love of cheap labour for it. I really should learn Mandarin. I wonder if anyone has addressed the link between karma, physics and economy? Anyway Ms Eat Pray Love; your movie could have been SO much better. I wonder if you regret opening your insides to the masses. The editing was appalling! I really do love Italy and am due for a European adventure, but I haven’t yet been to Bali and oh Javier…………..
Ok – SHUT UP.
But wait a minute! Isn’t it bloody awful what the new age movement has done to dolphins, crystals and pan flutes? How insane is it that dolphins are now somehow daggy, that owls have pretty much had their day and that beards are the new owls?! You-are-officially-bonkers – who on earth are you talking to?!
Alright seriously, CUT IT OUT – you remember how to do this, I know you do. Suddenly, something drops and I am transported to a parallel place consisting of a horse, a cart and two options. 1. Pull the reins in on these thoughts or 2. Drop them and let your mind run wild. Well THAT’S a trick question for sure. You know what The Dalai Lama would say, ‘Just drop it. All of it. No horse, no cart, no reins.’
And you know what? For a moment in time – I do. Something falls and it’s like the back half of me disappears. I am aware with all my senses of the night forming behind me as well as the space which hovers over Morton National Park. I feel a deep kind of circular peace and am equally moved, enamoured and grateful.
Of course, this feeling comes and goes again for the remaining forty minutes. I go about mindfully writing random moments and future triumphs. I enjoy epic Wonder Woman fantasies of castrating billionaire mining executives and triumphantly abolishing greed from the planet. I regret not doing yoga every single day of my twenties as well as not having yet written an opera but amidst all of this – somehow, everything feels perfectly ok. And as a friend of mine would say, ‘Oh my God Shut UP – you have that moment.’
And it’s true. I do now have that moment and a simple & deep breath takes me straight back to a perfect combination of feeling thoroughly inspired, as well as completely and utterly at ease.
Monique Germon is a writer, art director, photographer & proprietor of STORY as well as a regular contributor to SOHI Magazine. She also enjoys the occasional role of ‘doula’ to our SOHI Editor in Chief, Rebecca Wolkenstein.
Photo credits
1. Photography & Styling: Maynes / Germon
Sunnataram Forest Monastery holds meditation evenings every Tuesday at 6pm.
Cost is by donation. For more information go to: www.sunnataram.org
Don’t throw it..Rethink it! by guest blogger Lisa Madigan
With sustainability at the forefront of many of our minds it’s a time when creativity can truly shine in a new light. Rather than the constant consumption of mass produced items we’re starting more and more to support artisans and craftspeople, opting for items with character over being compelled by sheer quantity and slashed prices. We’re following the line of production and caring about where things are sourced from and that all those involved in the production process are being fairly treated. It’s a wonderful and exciting time!
We’re also looking at how we can apply a sustainable ethos to our own homes, to the things you already possess and in our attitudes. Which brings me to – don’t throw it, rethink it…
It’s amazing how when you bring in a weathered old wooden ladder that’s sat outside hidden amongst garden tools and vines for years it can come into it’s own as a gorgeous interior highlight. Holding anything from gorgeous scented candles like the divine range from Palm Beach Collections, to little dishes for your favoured jewels. I have one ladder that’s a staple piece in our bathroom to hang towels from, and recently placed one in the bedroom { that came from the garden } to hang my ever rotating scarf collection, along with some smaller odds and ends on the top shelf. They’re handy and they hold a silent story and I love that.
One of my current irresistible interior impulses is to use vintage bottles to hold my favourite cuts from the garden, feathers, dried foliage and twigs. I’m also hooked on giving flowers a second form, allowing them to dry naturally like the hydrangea below, they’re exquisite and are just as stunning mixed with fresh cuts in vases of different shapes and sizes.
Or why not take a second look at an old piece of furniture. A cherished chair of mine was a roadside find, maybe there’s something hiding in your shed or garage or cupboard that you can take another look at with fresh eyes, perhaps it’s not longer fit for it’s original use, so get creative. Something as simple as an old crate can be flipped on it’s side to create a book shelf or a chair that no one could ever sit on could be a beautiful tableau as a bed side table.
I admit the raw look may not be for everyone, but there are many ways that we can begin to appreciate what we already have and looking to items that have soul and a bit of history rather than the latest lifeless tv unit. I’m not saying all new is bad, quite the contrary, there are some amazing products being produced with integrity and skill, and it’s these that I love to support wholeheartedly and mix in with all of my lovely weathered old bits.
It’s all about balance and harmony a contrast and diversity in textures and form, each piece contributing to the whole.
Supporting our future and acknowledging our past.
Sustainability most certainly is now.
Lisa Madigan is an artist, stylist, online retailer and creative all-rounder. She styled the cover story of the current SOHI Magazine.
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Teenage Dayz – by guest blogger Sue Lansdown
Sue Lansdown, our guest blogger, shares her inner fears and hopes as she finds her way as a parent of a tween and a teen. She is one of the creators of an age-appropriate, organic range of skincare and cosmetics named (very cutely) peachface.
Being a mum to Toby, 16, and my daughter Talullah, 9, keeps positively reminding me that I am surviving as a mum and that this is very wild and unchartered territory. I am awake and learning on the job.
My kids are constantly opening me to the challenges that I faced as a budding teen, and how confused my parents must have been during those years. I have deep compassion for teenagers and their parents. I feel a great sense of relief that I have beautiful relationships with both of my kids. Being realistic means that could all change any moment! So far so good, particularly when it comes to Toby, we do communicate, he still hugs me, he tells me ‘mum I love you’. This feels like a miracle and the truth of it is that I do know he has a very private world that is a no access area. And that does include telling me to ‘fuck off’ under his breath at times.
I do see beautiful, creative, confident kids with a mix of treacherous challenges and amazing opportunities ahead. The pressures for teenagers are all around, and are hyper-real. With so much attention on how they look, what they own, who their friends are, experimenting with intimacy and drugs, its mind boggling. Life as a teen is intensity plus. Life as a parent to a teen is just as intense and twice as scary having been teenagers ourselves!
The confusion I felt as a teenager was overwhelming, really how did I do puberty? Was I good at guessing, secretly studying my mum, depending on undependable friends, the Dolly sealed section? Looking back now I realize I was frightened and felt unable to share my fears with my friends or my family, though I don’t think any of those fears were noticed and I appeared to be a very normal and contained kid.
Struggling my whole life to understand those confusing years, and now facing me head on are my own children’s teenage years, this is where my learning comes full circle. Though could it be that these years are meant for intensity? Is it that our longing for self-actualization comes from the constant need for growth, experimentation and wanting to love?
It is a glorious confusion, I get to step out and watch and stand in and adore them. Though I don’t know quite how they will both manage these years, the ones I had found so freaky. I get to be available and to be told to ‘stay out of it’! These days are tough and tender days, delicately life transforming and experimental. My awakening alongside my kids is a painful privilege.
(image by teen photographer Nirrimi Hakanson)
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A real change – by guest blogger Beth Macdonald
Oh March! Isn’t it so good to see you in all your autumn glory? Shorter days. Cooler mornings and evenings and a chance to start to dress a little more stylishly {or is that just me?}. A chance to get the fire on. A chance to switch salads with pork belly and really relax. Everything is starting to slow down. The grass and garden growth {much to my husband’s delight} is less voracious. The afternoons and evenings that are coming a little quicker each day seem to bring with them long, glorious light that takes it’s time in leaving the day behind. My mind, most certainly, is slowing down and has an awareness, a mindfulness about it as it settles into this new season that lays before us.
There has certainly been a change in all of us these past 5 months that we have lived here in this lovely little town. A huge shift from busy city people living in the inner west, in a small terrace to happier, more relaxed people lucky enough to call Burrawang home. I’m not too sure what I was mindful of then. Most certainly my inconvenience at not being able to get a park out the front of our house, or in our street even. That was front of my mind. Each and every day. The stresses of getting kids to daycare, getting ourselves to work, getting through the day, making sure the kids stayed well enough through the week so no one would have to take time off from school or work and going through the motions of day to day {stressful} life. That was front of my mind. The worry. The money. The stress. The busyness.
But now.
These few short months later it’s not just the season that is changing before our very eyes. It’s something actually in me. It’s an ability to stop. Slow down. A mindfulness of my surroundings and within ourselves that I never had before. A chance to really look around. See the changes of the leaves. See the blueness of the sky. The greenness of the trees. The looks of joy upon my girl’s faces whenever they see cows in a paddock or run on our amazingly green and expansive lawn. The sheer beauty that is all around me that takes my breath away almost every single day. I am so grateful that we took this plunge. Made the change. And have these Autumn days to enjoy this real change of seasons for our small family.
Beth moved to Burrawang from Camperdown just five months ago and writes regularly on her blog: http://littlereginald.blogspot.com/
Images taken by Beth on a recent walk around Burrawang.
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Zen and the Art of Washing Dishes – by guest blogger Danielle Spinks
They say life is a series of imperfect facts and there is much we cannot control. The sequence of washing dishes is not one of them. Glassware first.
Now this is not a creatively devoid affair. The number of liquid drops can create a level of foaminess commensurate with your mood. Use a natural agent if possible, as this will affect the outcome and the pleasure. Playfulness can be created with extra drops. This will manifest a thing of awe – a galaxy of frothing and popping little planets.
It takes great maturity to be childlike, so add more drops and make a Grand Meringue or a mousse of suds.
Plunge a saturated cloth into the depths of a coffee cup. Work along the inner sides and bottom, rub the handle and base. Under a stream of warm water, employ the tai-chi of the wrist. Your grace and efficiency will dislodge any particles of detergent at minimal water expense.
Press the cloth – be gentle but firm – around the rim of a wineglass. This is a ceremonial circumnavigation that pays respect to an extraordinary vessel of conversation and communion. When satisfied with its purity, baptise with The Rinsing Act.
Place cutlery into the water and let it bathe. Take a fork. The spokes of this object, those teeth of utility, can be flossed under a brush. Use the same delicate attention to a Knife. Then a Spoon.
Cutlery done, it’s crockery’s turn. Take a bowl, give it a circular massage, make it beautiful on the inside and then the out.
Finally, the dented body of a frypan can get a slow and thorough scrub – a ‘thank you’ for wilting spinach, toasting nuts, and the decades of unglamorous, expert service.
With hands wrinkled, warm and pliant, pull the plug and release this galactical microcosm. Let it flow through the tunnel on its way to the light of the great Wherever.
What for many is a prosaic and disagreeable task can be one of your day’s most enjoyable experiences. It is akin to meditation. A reflection. An expression of gratitude. A wiping of the slate for tomorrow.
And I hope, my friend, you can find that your mental drawer of clutter and daily nonsense has been emptied.
Bubble image from Flickr by John Petrick.
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