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Hello and welcome to my blog formerly called Gypsy-K. Please note that I am only updating this blog while I am walking from Rome to Jerusalem from September 2015. My online home and permanent blog is at You can also sign up for pilgrim postcards and newsletters here. Thank you for being here and supporting my journey. With love and courage, Kym xx

Friday, 22 February 2013

When beauty falls

There are days when I want to hate this city, to be free of its concrete clasp. But not today.

As I meandered home after attending a protest where I contributed my energy and my voice to stand up for a cause I believe in with my heart, stopping the brutal and pointless slaughter of dolphins in Taiji in Japan, I walked through the Fitzroy Gardens between my favourite arch of trees. I could have walked on by but I had to stop and witness life as it occurred in that moment.

Although today was hot and in the low 30’s, summer is already ebbing. The leaves are dying a yellow death and as they surrender to their fate, the breeze carries them for one last dance, to rain like confetti towards the ground. Each dances its own dance at its own pace in its own unique tumble and twirl.

As I sat alone on the wooden bench, my head thrown back, my arms stretched out, heart open, receiving it all, tears welled but not in sadness.

You see beauty is wordless. It doesn’t speak to our minds but to our hearts. It asks for us to feel and to open, open wider than the moment before we witnessed her presence. She tugs and she stretches and she asks us to let go of the hard shell that prevents her entry. Sometimes there is sadness for our own hardness. Sometimes there are tears in the release of letting go. And sometimes there is a mixture of both.

Within these city walls where I often feel pinned and bound, beauty lives too.
And when I surrender to her, wherever I find her, my life is filled with meaning and the freedom I crave abounds.

Fitzroy Gardens, Melbourne, Feb 2013

Fitzroy Gardens, Melbourne, Feb 2013

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Where I am....

This is where I have been….
in resistance;
a jolting dance -
one step clenching,
against choices I have made
and this place where I am
then one step in release,
accepting what is.
to reach the surface
and the light
that seems so far away.

This is where I am…
in ebb;
drawing in,
going deeper,
for the next wave of change
and the step,
the leap into the abyss,
I know I must take
to heed the call
I know I must answer.

This is what I am doing….
the fog and the confusion
and all that is unknown;
sinking in,
being with silence,
and not much more.
This is enough.
and all that I need
right here and now
where I am.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Dancing on edges

Boys jumping into the Tonle Sap, Phnom Penh, Cambodia

I want to jump into the abyss
I want to feel the freedom of living in this moment now
I want to love shades of grey and not need to define the world in black or white
I want to love uncertainty and impermanence
I want to revel in the choices I have to create my life
I want to move without hesitation or second-guessing myself
I want to express what is in my heart without self-censorship from fear of judgement
I want to rip open my heart and let love flow, in and out.
I want to feel the pain and the ecstasy
I want to feel the pulsing of my connection to every living thing
I’m standing at the edge of the abyss
I’m ready to jump but I’m just not sure how to take the first step.

I wrote this poem almost four years ago in Phuket, the day after my 33rd birthday, a mere six-weeks into my first year-long sabbatical. It is an unpolished but passionate declaration about how I want to feel and how I want to live my life.

The irony of this poem is that I had already stepped into the abyss and was starting to realise all of those things I wanted to feel, I just didn’t recognize it back then. I took that first step long before I flew out of Australia. Back in April 2008, unexpectedly but perfectly timed, I reached a fork in my life’s path. I could continue on the path that I knew, a path that made sense to my logical mind but saddened my heart or I could take the new path, the one that excited my heart but made no sense to my rational mind.

It wasn’t easy to take that first step nor was it immediate but eventually I did. I left my partner of five years and the life I knew with him. Soon after I quit my job without another job to go knowing my ultimate desire was to travel but I just wasn’t ready to leave yet. I enjoyed my unemployment for seven weeks then a contract job found me and I accepted. After months of procrastinating, I finally picked a destination and set a date to leave Australia then started preparing to leave behind my career, my friends and family, my belongings and the new life I had just created to step into the unknown. My rational mind did not understand why I had to leave but my heart insisted and so I left. I stepped into that clouded abyss and what I started to experience was an opening to the divine.

My word for this year is dance; to revel in joy, to celebrate all of life, even the hard and painful stuff. Last week, as I drove home from two hours of boxing training that tested my stamina and resolve to push myself through my discomfort, I realized something:

I dance on edges.

I dance up to my fears and to my limits. I feel them. I back away and I dance up to them again moving a little further forward then retreating before moving up to face them once again, until I take that final step into the abyss, into what is unknown or uncomfortable or scary or painful. There are some people who take a flying leap right into or over their own abyss but not me, I dance. And when I am ready, when I have the information that I need or have mustered the courage I require, I take that step and soar, full of grace.

It really doesn’t matter how you traverse your abyss. You can dance, you can fly, you can pin drop, you can climb down into it reluctant and hesitant as you go, you can take one step forward then two steps back then three steps forward and one step back.

What matters is that you take those steps, that when your life calls you in a new direction, you heed that call.

I dance on edges and I enjoy it. This is what I have just realized.

I did not come into this world and this life to live a sleepy comfortable existence although occasionally I wish that I did. I came here to push my own limits and boundaries. I came here to experience my humanness and divinity. I came here to grow.

Right now, I am dancing towards another edge. This one, looks like a doorway that is black, so black that when I put my arm through it I can no longer see my arm. I am dancing before this doorway, stepping up, stepping back and occasionally stepping into the blackness.

The change that I have been seeking and that has been calling me is on the other side. And as soon as I am ready, I’ll be dancing my way forward.

Yarra Valley from a hot air balloon

Me at Mulkirigala Rock Temple, Sri Lanka

Monday, 4 February 2013

A River of Stones - the final 11

January 21

The scent of newly char coaled wood on fresh morning air whispers India.
A tarnished cloud shrouds the columnar city.

January 22

Beneath the ache, light electric tingling streaming up and down my legs.  Chest and belly rise and fall in spacious rhythm and in the gaps, belly drums silently, the hollow pulse echoes in my ears.  Eyelids slide down so eyelashes lace and rest in meeting.  The black wave rushes in eager to take me away.

January 23

She stands centimetres from him, tilts back her head and scrunches her nose in response to words he has spoken only to her.  A blunt black bob frames her porcelain face and powder blue eyes, soft and silky, radiate that invisible lover’s light.

January 24

In the middle of the city as the trams rumble and pedestrians ramble by, a rectangular pot of vibrant yellow marigolds, a temporary perch for twin sparrows.

January 25

Hanging from the handlebar, the idle helmet, laced with aged spider webs.

January 26

From the top of the Eureka tower, a kaleidoscope of rainbow-coloured stars, explosions of gold glitter then fiery amber stars corkscrew into the smoke-laden night sky.  Australia Day.

January 27

The sky, cloudless, the colour of cornflowers, with no identifiable beginning or middle or end, no focal point, just this endless fading blue.

January 28

Early morning silence and the hazy down current of returning slumber interrupted by the rattle and thump of garbage bins being emptied and thrown back on the sidewalk.

January 29

The carriage doors are thrust open and rebound with a thump.  A surly-faced girl makes a stormy entrance followed by a silent horde shuffling into all the spare spaces, shoulder to shoulder, upright sardines.

January 30

The northern horizon, obstructed by the concrete silos adorned and the Nylex clock, the concrete freeway overpass, dull grey apartment buildings interspersed by the dark forest green of urban trees, still rises above to cast an apricot glow.

January 31

A dozen sparrows rise and scuttle seeking safe shelter amongst the fern-like fronds of the silk tree.

Bells Beach, Australia Day

"Hello sun in my face..." Mary Oliver.  Early Saturday morning, Richmond.