After my wonderful day at Narooma, I was buoyed, when I set out the following morning I was in a marvelous mood.
Overnight, I’d gotten dozens of messages from parents with kids at the Narooma school, telling me that their children had been prattling on about me all night.
Haha, I love that.
And why has nothing to do with me – “look at me, I’m great, I inspire children!” – no, I insist, there’s no ego in it. What I *adore* is the idea of those children carrying a little piece of wonder in their hearts going forward. Know what I mean ? Forty years from now, with me dead & gone, they might be sitting on their porch with their own kiddie on their lap telling them what happend at school – and be struck by a memory of that absurd yobbo in the superhero uniform, and smile.
Lina and her family at the Harrington had been so lovely, so embracing and supportive and kind.
In my own goofy way, I could never properly thank them (and the team there) for their kindness, but it’s important to recognise it, so I made a little video before leaving.
I think it’s also important to share it, because kindness shines.
It brightens the world, even just observing it.
I can’t tell you why, at the end of the video, I start talking like Hitler.
Really, I have no idea. Mental decline induced by months of walking ? Dunno.
I’m beyond trying to understand some of the weirder things I do .. just gotta roll with it. Can’t afford therapy, and plus – why look backward when you can look forward ?
So .. bidding my farewells, I hit the road.
That morning walk was full of fun and meaningful encounters, but I had little or no service most of the time, so couldn’t live-stream them. Knowing better now, I’d just take video, and upload it later, do a much better job of obtaining quality video.
First encounter, I was walking past the high school, and this teacher runs out toward me waving and yelling. Behind her on the oval are a gaggle of teenagers, also walking over with open curiosity, some laughing.
I made them all laugh at one point when we were doing a group photo by lurching forward and going “Hey ! Hey there ! Hey now !”
Everybody was going, like “what’s going on !? oh no !”, then I turned sternly on the group, wiggling my finger, “Who just pinched my BUM !?”
The laughter, what a joy. Loved that.
Later, I met this family who had been touched by intense bullying. It was a deeply personal encounter where I think I actually did at least a little bit of good.
I think I was able to say things that didn’t have the same impact coming from a parent, and that she wasn’t getting back from school/peers. Just straight from the heart stuff..
“You are great, objectively great. Good heart. Sweet temperament. Pretty. Clever. If those bullies dig away at you, it’s because some arseholes are built to sense vulnerability and they get stuck in for their own amusement or to feel bigger”
“Fuck those guys. Fuck them. Be self righteous. Be angry. You don’t deserve what happened, be proud in who you are, and lean on the people you love, hear their voices, not some piece of garbage who only wants to pull you down strip by strip”
Later in the day, I came upon Majestic Gulaga.
My friend and teacher Uncle Phil, who had given me the ceremonial welcome of his people (to the Yuin Nation), had taught me a bit about Gulaga, and her son Mumbulla (called Mt Dromedary and Little Dromedary by white settlers, I think).
I tried to share some of those lessons in the video, but I think I kept mis-pronouncing the names
This fella to the right in the two-Santas photo is Sean, lovely lovely bloke – he kept setting me straight.
Haha, I did that so much with towns too, luckily I never got the threatened kick to the goolies (some country towns are REALLY fierce about saying their name right)
Ever since I got that welcome from Uncle Phil, I honestly *felt* welcome as I walked through this gorgeous country.
Think it’s crazy, if you like (close-minded bugger!) but I genuinely felt as if the land were watchful, as if no snake would bite me, as if the land approved (or were laughing at me, but in a good natured way).
I think, because the walk was in many ways a spiritual pilgrimage, it opened me up to those kinds of thoughts, feelings and experiences.
I also think, because I’d met- people from all backgrounds and walks of life, and found them to be …. gorgeous. Light-filled, even if they couldn’t see it themselves … I think this was making me more embracing of their ideas.
I’ve always been very flexibly minded, open to new information – but on the road I’d become even more receptive and open to whatever messages people wanted to give me.
I did meet some really intense conspiracy theorists on the road that day (not pictured)
They had insisted, urgently preached at me, in fact – that a recent underwater eruption near Tonga was orchestrated by the Australian Government. (I shit you not)
They asserted this was for the purpose of destroying a failed batch of cloned fetuses, something that a race of part-lizard people have been doing for decades, the successful batches going on to serve some secret cabal as sex slaves.
Nodding politely, I didn’t refute them just said “wow that’s really hard to accept, I hope thats’s not true”
Any refutation wouldn’t have been based on the logical idea that you could dispose of the medical waste using industrial furnaces.
The main reason I think this theory is completely unrealistic is the idea that the Australian Government could get their act together enough to execute a sophisticated game of misdirection and multi-pronged conspiracy 🙂
Let’s stick with the simplistic games of misdirection we know and (don’t really) love.
Met so many lovely people that day. Above left is this phenomenal person, Letitia from Quaama. Although she suffered horrible losses in the bush-fires, her every thought is for other people and her community.
And to the right, the “Cobargo Ferals!” (or so they said). John and family were just lovely, and have been tireless in helping the community since the fires. Lovely lovely people.
By the end of the day I was kinda tired, and although a room was on offer at the Cobargo pub, I chose to camp in the bush.
My punk feral mates had given me these absolutely bloody delicious chutney pickle something something sandwiches.
I really don’t know what they were, but they were DELICIOUS.
(Occasionally a person would tell me not to accept food or water, someone could poison or tamper it, and I’d smile and nod – but I’d prefer to love & trust people like these (and risk betrayal) than live a life where I fail to embrace them (and miss out on the world’s best sandwiches))
I don’t know how many days I have left, but I choose love over fear.
When I was pitching camp, I saw a big old brown snake (could have been a carpet python) out for a twilight hunt, but we kept our distance.
Once I was set up, fed and watered, I fell into a long and dreamless sleep.
Woke up really early (about 5am) refreshed and ready to go.