Uncontainable

Written Late August 2013 Dear Sis, Wow! Time has got away and we haven’t spoken for so long after speaking every day while I was in England and, oh, what a journey I’m on. Firstly, Sis, thank you so much for your letter and concerns. I feel flattered that you love me and don’t want me to lose the plot, but Jenna, in my 47 years on the planet, I have experienced so many incredible things. I have met the most interesting, inspiring people in all parts of the world. I have never taken drugs. I have always trusted my gut instinct that we are born with, and it has always proven me right. When you let fear get in the way, our lives are so much less. We miss out on so much, on so many special experiences, because we are told not to talk to strangers; we miss out on these amazing connections—people we meet for a reason. As I said, in all my travels I have been open and chatty, listening to the most incredible stories from other cultures—Chile, New Guinea, Asia, United States, Canada, Central America, the Pacific, France, and Italy—the list goes on. In all that time nothing bad has ever happened. I really feel I’m capable of following my gut instincts, and the experiences of the last few months have been incredible. All these people I’ve met for a reason. You read that poem: “Some people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you understand which one, they are here for, you will know what to do”. We knew Mum for a season, not a lifetime. She gave us a love for Mother Nature and gave us so many lessons in life. She smiled at everybody she met. She was open and chatty. She listened. She was the glue in our family. What a wonderful, loving, open lady/mum/wife/friend. Since I was in England, I felt a massive connection with Mum. After my 1.5-kilometre swim across Lake Coniston, stopping in the middle for a breath and just taking in the view and thinking of Mum swimming the lake as a girl, I felt close to her. I’m sure she is guiding me on my path. My time with Dad was very hard, incredibly challenging emotionally. I learnt a lot. Silence speaks louder than words (not one of my good skills!). I learnt that I didn’t need to say anything when he told me for the fiftieth time that there was a speed camera. I didn’t need to respond. I met so many people for a reason while I was with Dad—the lady on the train who was going on a cruise to Norway, the border collie lady with breast cancer, Grace the cleaning lady, the Swiss man with his daughter who lost her teddy, Carl and Sasha, who are now using Mum’s veggie garden that she loved so much. The list goes on. As you know from my journal in Paris—I mean, Sis, who doesn’t meet a Peruvian spirit man in Paris! The reason was my connection with Mother Nature. Wow, Sis. What a journey! I just stopped to go to the toilet, bursting for a poo—sorry, mate, more information than you need! We’re camping with a group of friends at our local camp spot. Once a month we get together. Setting the picture: this morning I had a lovely paddle up the river, then walked out onto the most stunning deserted, long, white, sandy beach. Enjoying time by myself. The peace of nature—no, I haven’t become a born again! I still believe in fairies and angels, maybe just not with frilly dresses . I had a skinny dip at the beach, felt like silk on my skin. It’s a magic spot. Getting side-tracked, back to the trip to the toilet—and yes, I did wash my hands! I got chatting to an old couple in the van next to us. He was a big older man from Melbourne, grey nomads living out of their van. Can see you doing that, Sis. I mentioned a charity idea I have. He asked me more. “Come and have a cuppa”, he said. My idea, one of many, is called Pass it forward Food for less fortunate families sourcing excess fruit and vegetables from local farmers who leave stuff to rot on the ground. I’ve been spending about an hour once a week at a friend’s avocado farm. They have 2000 trees. In an hour I can usually fill two massive canvas bags of the most beautiful, huge, yummy avocados. I know at least eight other farmers like them with different varieties of excess fruits and vegetables. The idea is still germinating. Back to my story. As I was coming back from the toilet, I shared a cuppa with Big Jim and his lovely wife. He just listened then told me his story, or a little chapter. He’s an ex-pastor from Melbourne who set up a food bank, now a very successful charity in Melbourne feeding heaps of needy families. He gave me some great ideas and suggested several simple things to make it self-running after time.