Two kids a Big Mountain and Me

I learnt three major things whilst traveling in NZ last summer.

Never underestimate the determination of a child (when bribed with food).

No obstacle (mountain) is too large when you have the right frame of mind.

Our reactions (mind and body) to all things are the initial cause or foundations to how we live our lives. With happiness or in suffering.


When planning holidays, most dream of sunshine, good food, happy kids and a chance to rest or unwind. For us, the idea of slow travels appealed most of all. After a year abroad in 2016 moving through 30 something countries, we wanted to use our own bodies instead of fossil fuels to power an adventure and flow through the day and landscapes as we felt. We wanted to love the earth and feel respectful of our resources, each other and the animals that reside here with us. Minimal tourist impact. OK. So we did fly but maybe next time we may include the sail over.

Our final plan was agreed upon – to carry all we needed on bikes for 3 months around New Zealand. We, being my two daughters aged 12 and 14 and myself. None of us bike fit and with minimal experience of touring.

It took 4 days to re-assemble 3 bikes once we landed and another 2 days to gain enough confidence to ride with all our gear. Certain pleasures like eating off tables, smelling good and soft beds were the first comforts to be missed and we hadn’t even hit the road yet. Our tent, bedding, clothing, biking equipment and personal effects weighed in at 12-15 kg but food and water carried by the leader of the pack (me) weighed in at a staggering 18kg.


Day 7, we were fully loaded and ready for action. As we made our way along a coastal stretch of the south island not far from Christchurch we were waved down by a very large tattooed Maori dude and his daughter. With a high pitched voice he spoke softly, “Hey, hey, you cycling round En Zed on bikes hey, woah, hard core man”.

Smilingly my mind conjured up images of hard core iron thighed men, ragged from the extremes of solid riding in the elements, burnt lips, frost bitten fingers and clothes that clung to dirt laden hairs. We continued on our way, oblivious to the potential dangers that we would have to face.

Before I get any further into the depths of our journey I just want to call out the NZ tourism industry, or at least what we receive here in Australia. Biking round NZ is amazing but only if you are prepared to stick to trails and sleep the night in hotels, backpackers or private accommodation. Camping as we know it for Australians is not real big in NZ. The distance between campsites is too large, with about %90 of these sites being for campervans only, certified with waste disposal systems. A little bucket marked ‘POO’ and a tent does not count. Because of this we found ourselves hiding out in carcass ridden state forests, concrete blocks of state schools and gravel access roads to rivers. Cycling or at least touring was not for the faint-hearted. NZ suits off road riders who come back to the comforts of a warm bed at night and hikers who camp at designated huts – closed to cyclists during summer (something they dont always tell you on the brochures). As friendly as the locals are, they were not for free camping and understandably, so many free places were littered with human waste and toilet paper.

Our biggest disappointment and most costly was the fact that the well known and beautifully scenic Alpine Trans train link from east to west coast only takes 2 bikes at a time (not three) and with plans to meet friends for a month of riding on the West Coast we paid an obscenely enormous amount of money to transport the bikes and ourselves over to meet the deadline.


West Coast south island – quiet, long stretches of coast  – great for rides north of Westport before the winds kick in. You live and learn. Anything south of Westport becomes life threateningly dangerous, with roads that felt as wide as my little finger and tour buses wanting ALL of it. No place for kids on bikes. We changed our plans and turned around already knowing the road ahead was flat, long and wet with sea salt. This was the day the girls showed me what they were made of. They never faulted. Four hours of heart pumping slog into the wind, rain and salt. My youngest led the way, urged on with loving admiration, followed not so closely by her sister. Not one complaint. They knew there was nothing left to do but ride. Pizza was on offer and they’d do almost anything for it.

After a month on the road, 5kg in body weight lighter and gut full of dhal and lentils we caught a bus to Nelson, the land of sun and orchards. I was tired, emotionally drained from supporting 2 children who preferred reading and minecraft to riding and we were spending money way too quick. Food is expensive in NZ but gluten free vegan food for physically challenged peoples even more so. I cried for 3 days on the phone to my husband and hid my anxiety from the girls as best I could.

With verbal support from my love, I decided to continue and headed out on the Great Taste Trail. A partly finished trail of 157km meandering through townships and countryside (so the lady at the tourist information center said). It was 6 days before Christmas, plenty of time to complete the distance I thought as we carried about 5 days of food and water if I stretched it out. Second day on the trail after hiding out in the scrub we got two punctures, several broken spokes from a recent collision with a rock wall, rain, mountainous terrain and a strong aversion to dhal.  It steered us into a 2 day break. This decision subsequently landed us in the middle of a state forest, with little food and even less drinkable water.  Its amazing how much food you consume when your stuck inside a 1 man tent with 2 others playing cards all day.

Hoping to refill our supplies at the next town we set off early to finish one last major ascent and roll into our next destination. AARH – Christmas eve – how could I be so thoughtless. No shops were open and everyone in town seemed to be out of town. We headed off again and found camp just before the skies dumped a deluge of water upon us. Every possible container was out, collecting water. At least we wouldnt die of dehydration but dinner was lean, a piece of fruit and some lickings of an old dried coconut packet.


Christmas lunch consisted of our last dhal with coconut and cashews. Dinner was a dhal soup made on the back of lunch left overs scraped from the pot. Merry Christmas girls. I had already stopped eating from the food we carried and survived on a backpack of plums we had found 3 days earlier. Lets just say I wasnt blocked up. The day was spent laughing, farting an playing cards (again) inside the largest of our one man tents – mine. I loved every minute.

Next morning as we thought about the Boxing Day celebrations occurring back home in Australia the girls shared their last nut bar and saved an apple for the 58km ride into town. It felt like we carried the weight of the world that morning on our bikes but slowly the land started to provide and our moods lifted. We scavenged hazelnuts from the side of the road and cracked them with rocks and shortly after we found a little abandoned orchard that gave us some subsistence. The river we followed meant a multitude of birds sang to us as we coasted into a sleepy town just south of Nelson. One sole cafe was open and there was no limit to the food we could order. We take for granted just about everything in our western world. Today we were grateful for toasties and soft chairs but mostly for each other. New bonds had been formed from the secrets that we shared as women, old and young. A new sense of friendship forged at a time when many teenagers become distant, confused and wanting to rebel. What more could a parent want than happy, connected and aware individuals wanting to be a part of the world.


The next couple of weeks were dedicated to riding up Mt Takaka. I left the best till last hoping our bodies and minds had become tougher. With bikes serviced and my mother in support (vehicle) we left Nelson to begin the arduous 13.9km ascent that would lead us to the site of the Luminate festival. Apart from being just plain crazy this idea was beyond anything any local had ever seen. The man at the bike shop was worried. Kids on bikes up that Hill. For 2 days we rode, but mostly pushed our bikes up a mountain so steep and windy that it makes the cut for one of the worst roads in the world. With a history of landslides, steep cliffs and tiresome bends, I would’nt recommend this road to be ridden by anyone. We passed about 5 cyclists who looked like Amazonian athletes on wheels, all of whom just stared as we continued on our snail like way. By early afternoon we had made it half way. Camp that night was literally on the side of the road, on a very unlevel surface, taking safety behind my mothers vehicle in case a motorist veered a little left.

We did make it to the top of the hill on the second day but I swore to not leave the summit for the duration of the holiday. Apart from a couple of beautiful day trips in mums car we made Takaka Hill our home.


Lucky for us Luminate festival was here on Takaka Hill so the next month was spent volunteering and playing. It was the highlight of our trip. The tribe we met felt like family. We sang, danced, ate and explored most of the forest surrounds and grassy plains. The girls new found strengths and confidence spilled over into their daily lives at the festival, connecting and communicating with people of all ages. I became aware of how much they had grown as people in the last few months and I allowed them the freedom to wonder, explore and experience all they encountered but all they wanted to do was hang together….and we did.

I wanted to show the girls that if they set their minds to something then it can be done but what I taught them (or what they taught me) is that if something gets in your way while on any journey in life then change your plans, lovingly change course and smile as you do so.

Life is amazing and anything is possible – but you have more fun with others.


Swallowing the Truth on Body Image

Over the years I’ve heard a lot of women talk about how they don’t like their bodies and how it has affected them in so many ways. Invitations to social events become a closet room torture session, sexual intimacy or nudity is revealed under a cloak of darkness and self worth a daily source of frustration and sadness.

I have struggled my whole life with having a low self love regarding my body. I tried hiding my (at times) disgust from my two daughters with the aim of instilling a sense of  respect and love of all peoples natural forms. To some degree I am sure I have succeeded but as they grow older my acting skills don’t match their wisdom.

I am out of time and you know what……I am just sick to death of giving myself a hard time. So much wasted energy, worry, anxiety, missed activities and loving embraces.

You cant make someone eat peas when their taste buds repel the texture and flavor so how can I make myself love something I don’t…….I cant and wont pretend any more.

I thought I had to live the rest of life just trying to accept who I was or what I believed myself to be. I only saw with eyes, not with heart.

Then just last week I had a massage from a beautiful soul sister. It was dark, no lights except a soft fire, due the kids being asleep not far from the massage mat. As the energy moved my tears flowed. Without any mental attempt I became aware of a knowing deep within…….I love my body for what is has given me, what it has done for me, the places it has taken me and the adventures it has taken me on. I’ve been lost and it walked me out, loved for days and risen to love more. My bodies been hit and hurt, raped and teased, nurtured life and cycled over many years. Its has worked hard, real hard and yet still feels soft to touch. My body keeps me afloat and harbors a soul yearning to do more for the world yet. Its incredible.

So like the peas I had watched my brother try to swallow as a child and into his teenage years, my body shape is something I may never like but I can appreciate and choose to like all the other qualities that makes a pea a pea other than its flavor.

All my life I have been looking at my body from the outside in with its dimples and blemishes, scars and increasing silhouette size.  How could I ever get to the good bits on the inside when I stopped my journey towards self love at the very first step, at the very first layer? My quest to value and love what I had been given, a remarkable assemblage of loving vibrational cells that could grow life itself was self sabotaged from the very beginning. Without insight, without the ability to become aware of our many layers, we build up a wall of resistance and self loathing. I now choose to begin my meditations from the inside out.

Now, here in the dark, in the safety of a true friend I met my inner self. I saw past the first layer and found so much more. Like focusing on the positive or choosing to see the brighter side of things I saw into all the crevices, between the folds and even through blood and air. I became aware of how my body has supported me when I believed it was the other way round (me supporting others). I became aware of a flowing energy surging through the gaps of my cells that is connected to all things and how insignificant our body size is too this universal source of truth and its movements and natural place in our physical world………so eat the peas and know their truth, know their true uniqueness and value.

It might take a while longer to get to know myself but from now on I can teach my girls how to really see themselves. I can show them how to value their existence from a place of truth and love… to love themselves.

May all beings see themselves for who they really are.

Much metta and much gratitude for my massage in the dark.




Gypsy Life

For last 5 weeks we have been doing what most people do all their lives, or at least aspire too. Live in a big, well maintained and electronically connected house, with pool, gardens, Netflix, unlimited wifi and views to soothe most souls. But not ours.

We’ve walked the other side of the fence for too long now, bathing in free waters and basking under Australian skies. The body was first to complain of walls, humming electrical currents and toxic chemicals….headaches, gut complaints and lethargy not to mention a very distinct lack of creativity and motivation. Its been years since this has occurred…….so with another 7-8 weeks of house sitting to go we did what every human should do once a month……..go bush.

For us it was Inskip, South East Queensland beach territory.


For the first day we soaked in salt water, laid on grass (and sand), listened to the gulls and drew on the beach until the moon cast shadows on our tracks.

The next morning, after copious amounts of chai around the fire, we all fell into laughter about absurd happenings….. kids farts, adult farts, men in sarongs, mating dances of wild birds and games that only kids are good at. Its these moments I realise that our family thrives. Our hearts burst open with gratitude.


Just a few days in nature an we are ready to serve again….food, love and life to all.

Much metta, hope to see you on the road soon.

Whats Running Through You Now?

Recently we moved from bush camp to a many walled (and mirrored) house sit and although I am not complaining about hot running water, soft lounges, electricity and yep …….Netflix, it has become obvious it’s affecting me in ways I do not like.

Meditation this morning was like a war zone in my mind. The once tranquil, soft intermittent conversation between mind and breath turned to a formidable force of chattering about recent TV shows and required cleaning regimes to maintain the upkeep of such a big house. Then, when I finally got a handle on the incessant noise I realised my bodily sensations or frequency was being disrupted constantly. Aaah. Revelation. The electricity, wifi, lights, pool pump…..I could feel it all……around me and through me like a mosquito under my skin, swimming through my blood.

After 5 years in a forest, 2 years on the road and a settled year near a peaceful Vipassana community my body was reacting to all these new electrical frequencies. I understand this lingering headache now.

Finishing meditation, I make a ginger tea and begin to type. I know most of you probably realise what we eat, we become but also what we surround ourselves with, we also become. I had forgotten.

All of our senses take in tiny weeenie particles or input for our mind to rearrange. Our perception of the world is built around what input we receive – what we surround ourselves with. Body, mind, world is all the same but many choose to disconnect from the natural world and reconstruct their own image, one that pleases their own perception or ego. One that eases the physical burdens of life usually.

I feel like I have lived many lives within just this life, numerous jobs, hundreds of passions but for now, in this moment, I realise nothing is more important than how we treat ourselves and everything within this world – living and non living.

It is so import we give all our efforts to raising the vibration of our soul through pure, connected living. From this all else will flow. We will not wish to harm the earth, our bodies, our children or our mind.

We will want to live again.

Much metta.



Bodily Reined

Flowing fast, a source of constant connection to all wavers in my body

I feel everything, see nothing and taste the scent of lavender on the rim of my nostril

Quiet times scarcely come so I work hard to stay centered, to stay adrift in the field of a timeless now, scanning the physical with a mindful intention

Questions come and go like the breeze against skin, changing direction just as frequent

bodily reign

There are no answers in this realm just truths, undeniable truths from within that alter the course of this human existence

Go deeper, be still, breathe soft

The more awareness, the more that flows

All I am now is what I am, nothing more, I become the soul of every place I stand

Keep trusting, keep walking this path and hopefully friends will march alongside, spurring each other on, to become aware not just of themselves but each other, each microscopic occurrence

world love 2.jpg

One family of earth, bodily reined

United in love and open to all


We, the Gentle Believers

I realise that our lives are not like most although I am seeing a rise in people leaving behind mortgages and stressful jobs to chase dreams. I see them under shady tress in parks, basking on rocks during full sun and dancing on hilltops while the blue moon swells. We, the movement of gentle returners are going back to a simple way of living, connected to the ebb and flows of natures guidance. We, the movement of gentle believers, ride out the storms of life with a sacred breath and open heart.

We know there is more to life than the infinite cycles of birth and rebirth, more than the daily cycle of wake, work, eat, sleep. Attached to nothing I am free to follow my souls desires and what I chase is freedom….but what is freedom?

Last year, while travelling in Morocco we met some permanent South American gypsies who were filming some of their adventures. At the end of each short clip they ask the same single question to people they have met. “What is freedom”

At the time they filmed us we had just come through customs (8 hours) and was camping with several other crazy western travelers on the concrete compound of boarder control waiting for first light as no-one spoke English,  there was no GPS and we had no idea of what lay ahead.

What is freedom he asked?

Holding up my portable toilet bucket I answered “freedom is being able to shit when I like, where I like.” I guess the gypsy life had me in her grasp because all I could think about was being to free to move, to explore. Now, some 18 months later and freshly off a Satipathana {Vipassana} course I have a new concept of freedom. Freedom for me is being able to follow my souls desires or at least its needs when it arises.

So if you are wanting to feel free and happy I guess you need to find your deepest souls requirements and I doubt that a huge house, new car or plasma TV would make the list.

For people who know me {us} they would understand already our trust in the divine, in having the ability to uproot and leave behind what most cherish and value. For those who don’t then the story is simple – stressed out life turned to 5 years retreat on indigenous forest lands, sold everything, traveled everywhere with family in tow, and returned to Australia not knowing what to do. Now I listen to the wisdom’s that come through meditation and live in love and service to mankind, earth and all beings, finding balance between work, rest, play and family.

So back to this attachment thing. What is attachment? Anything that you feel you cannot lose or live without is attachment. Your watch, excess clothing, emotions, children, house, money, sex, food…….the list is endless really but for now I seek balance and commitment. I commit to letting go of all I can on any given day because the further I go into spirit the less I realise I need and this list includes emotional and non material apsects also.

How much of your life is simple clutter? How much are you willing to sell, give away or return to earth for the sake of happiness? For the sake of freedom.

My top suggestions for happiness.

Do a Vipassana course

Get rid of everything you can part with, downsize, sell off, work less

Help others and be in service once a year

Love and let go that which doesnt bring lightness to your life or the life of others.

With loving metta.

Bus Pod Communities – an alternative for travelers who seek some sedentary time on the land.

Living in a bus (or between 2) suits us perfectly. We travel and work when we want, fluctuating our efforts in line with our expenditures or adventures. There are challenges, like any alternative way of living but mostly I miss a permanent garden, dry spaces during long periods of rain and somewhere out of view from the world in general.

Luckily we have found one spot on the Sunshine Coast of Qld that provides us with most of the things I desire most but the gypsy in me calls at night. I hear her tantalising secrets of far off places, urging me to get the wheels rolling……get exploring.

Living in big green bus gets you attention and many people with similar lives share their stories with us. Most say the same thing. The travel is great but the stop overs can get difficult.

Lack of privacy, lack of clean water, dry space and a place to grow some food are the major drawbacks.

Thinking of these things an idea has begun to manifest. I would love to start a little movement within communities or on trust land. BUS PODS – or vehicle pods. Small structures that support a vehicle driving up alongside and camping alongside for a few weeks or a season. Enough to grow some vegetables, sweep the cobwebs out and maybe make some friends.

Id love to know if anyone has this on their land and if so does it work? Do you lease it out or swap for work?

If not – why not?

I understand the many pros and cons of the idea, like any community there would be some degree of negotiations but next time your clearing a little land or buying for that matter think of the people who could benefit and how much you and your land could benefit from such an exchange.

With much metta and hope.

Underestimating Natural Schooling and its Value for Future Employment Options

Some years ago I went for a job within the NSW National Parks. A dream job for me but I was under qualified and lacking any experience. I had just completed my second year of Environmental Science and had to travel about 6 hours from the Sunshine Coast each weekend for work IF I was given employment. The odds were against me.

I made it somehow through to the final assessment and attended a weekend with about 14 other people to narrow it down to a team of 6. As we sat around talking wombats, fire trails and public toilets, I felt every eye upon each other, sizing up the competition. Most of my opponents had formidable beards and a repertoire of unusual birds calls that was used at unusual times of the conversation. I knew none of them. All held degrees (literally) and all knew the area well.

The young dark-haired man beside me had nothing but a smile and a blank piece of paper in front of him. He talked, and laughed, making everyone feel pretty good about themselves I believe. He asked to hear the bird calls, listened when the stories were told and not once took his attention elsewhere.

I guess you can imagine where this is going. He got the job. I did too but only just  – at least I got to talk to him again.

He was in his early 20’s, could barely write and maths was something you used to count the lettuce he picked for his Mum before market harvest. He had lived in rural NSW on community all his life, never attended school or gone to Tafe – just lived. He helped the people he lived with, chatted with the locals at the weekly produce sales and traveled a little when he was 19, woofing and couch surfing before realising he had something so simple to share. His love of the earth and the people upon it. He didn’t even know a bird call.

For the next several months I watched various employees of the National Parks cater to his best attributes and pick up the pieces where necessary. He was an asset to our Discovery Team and when I asked about his life and his job he told me…………

“I found what I loved and wanted to share it with the best of intentions to as many people as I could”

Its been years since I worked with the dark-haired man. I know have kids of my own (12 and almost 14). We are natural schoolers, change our interests and learning methods as much as the moon fulls and whole heartedly believe we can raise aware, conscious, happy and employable children bu following our hearts.

So often I hear stories of mothers that question their own teaching methods or abilities daily,  grandparents that don’t understand the possibilities of open learning or spouses that think you wont get a good education if you don’t get a degree.

Good people get good jobs – if that’s what you want.

Raise our kids with the mindset that anything is possible and we will change the world.

Help our kids to be the best possible human being they can be and they will find happiness – with or without a piece of paper that says they are qualified.

Think outside the normal entry requirements and you will find a way in – then we can change the shape of that box from the inside out.

Every time I doubt myself or stress about the level at which my kids are developing I remind myself of this story – of the man who knew no bird but smiled his way through.

With much metta, Tamika.

Life on the Road at any Age

He was the first person to say “gidday” and the last person to leave camp. For this ‘ole timer’ life on the road is not about how far you go, where you park or what style of van you pull but about who you meet and what your willing to stand up for.

I met, lets call him Jack ….. just west of Jackadgery (Grafton), a couple of weeks before the Christmas rush. His warmth overshadowed the harshness of his appearance, worn by the elements of our extreme weather and a tough existence travelling the back roads around Texas (Australia) as a young man.

It was early morning and our introduction to each other covered a broad array or topics from social standards, sexual harassment, employment benefits, raising children to eating bush tucker, escaping the ‘law’ and solo travel. We did all this in about 10 mins.

His latest home is small, basic and wirery, a little like himself but under the exterior lies many a story and an open heart or for the van an open floor in sections. He renovates on the go, resourcing from whatever he finds and tries to buy as little as possible, except for the tobacco he rolls every few minutes.

The chair I sat on while we talked was made from an old milk crate, his kitchen scavenged from commercial dump sites and his bed the remnants of what looks like should be at the garbage tip. I was too scared to ask.

I call him Jack because his story was so interesting that I forgot to write it down. It also seemed insignificant at the time. Our exchange was of mutual admiration as we waffled on through the haze of late afternoon sun and smoke.

He left home when he was 16, a swag he made in one hand and a bag of groceries his grandmother gave him in the other. Its all he had. He walked for the first 3 years, picking up work in cattle, gas and railway stations. He believes even now if people want to leave the cities to escape the madness of working just to own a home (that is stuck in one sterile place) then there are opportunities galore.

Jack believes you learn to let go of things you once held important on the road.

“She takes it from you but gives back a freedom you wont find elsewhere.”

He finds it hard to communicate the experiences of his life but knows his happiness can be shared by anyone, willing to give up takeout food, designer clothes and luxurious beds. Waving his scrawny arms and exhaling a puff of smoke, I let him off the hook with answering anymore questions to get a tour of his home.

Inside everything has a purpose, gas burner, small fridge, cupboard for clothes, some archaic music stereo and some pictures. I couldn’t see any food with exception to a bag of dirty half sprouted spuds in the corner and some noodles in an opened packet on the table.

The only time Jack became elated was when he told me about the photos on his wall. I had found his weakness. Memories.

He talked about his past love of cars and an old friend whom he no longer talks too, pointing to each car and old friend as he shares.

Freedom for Jack is about not being a slave to the system that pushes you to work all your life to own things. Things the planet cannot keep making. Things that slow you down.

Travel safe my friend and see ya at Texas some time.



Transparency within the Dream

To live a dream, you first need to know what it is you desire.

How to do it depends entirely on what you dream for.

I only know the path we chose and it was one that lead us to let go of everything we owned and had once worked for……I think this path is easier than trying to acquire more. If you dream of driving a Ferrari and being waited on hand and foot for your retirement then this story is probably not for you.

But if you dare to find happiness in the peace of each days sun rise then read on.

Recently I saw a post by someone who has in the past inspired me to give more openly. He was asked by someone how he survives if he earns no money…….was he on the dole? They wanted transparency in his actions so that they too could live as he does. They were inspired but doubtful they could live in a similar way.

He replied with some offence that his monetary affairs was no-ones business and that he lived with little money or exchanged work for goods. I too am often asked what do we do for money and most times try to avoid it but how can I be promoting a life of freedom and happiness if I don’t tell you how we came to be.




It starts like any other “normal life” school, work, some more schooling and some more work. Family was gifted to me and while I raised our girls, my husband continued to work. A lot. What we earnt, we spent. The holidays were never long enough and our spirits never content. We decided to change our perspectives and our location.

We sold our renovated Sunshine Coast house and bought a farm, hand-built a home and carved out a magical existence relying heavily on the food we grew or animals we butchered. We connected to land and ourselves but the mortgage was still there. Several people who had come to stay with us on the farm as helpers mentioned a meditation course. Vipassana. Both my husband and I sat the course and our lives were changed forever.

We sold without hesitation, everything we had worked for, became vegetarians and left Australia with nothing more than a backpack each. Two adults, two preteen girls.

The money we acquired from the sale of our farm set us on a global journey to help others and in the process help ourselves but it doesn’t take travel to change a person, nor money, but the freedom of enslavement to a system that kills the spirit.

Removing yourself from the habitual working every day, week in, week out to obtain more things is what set us free. While having a new plasma, car or home might give a quick fix….no material object can fill the soul.

Yes…. we still need money. We have not found a community or new world that nurtures or provides a platform of free-living so we work (occasionally) or volunteer at spiritual centres or get the dole (occasionally). At the moment we are finishing a mobile bus café that will hopefully provide a little income to support out gypsy way of life and keep us completely out of the government system. with the ability to still help others. The more I learn and teach our children about the fundamnetal requirements for life the more I hope to remove ourselves from dependancy of any monetary system……food, shelter, land and peoples are our focus.

The world cannot support our increasing population if we continue to live as we do now. I often wonder are people too ignorant to see that our children will suffer if we continue to impart such materialistic beliefs upon them? Or are we just selfish, stubborn and greedy without forsight to imagine a planet and our minds in the next 50, 20, even 10 years if we continue down the current path.

I believe we are born free but have been too wiling to accept the voices of others instead of listening to our own, instead of listening to the voices of our great indigenous ancestors. We have forgotten how to care for ouselves and our families as they age. We have forgotten how to heal and how to connect with the energies of the land.

Lets start changing ourselves so that we can change the world for the lives of those to come.


Much metta to you all.