2/07/2014
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| Reunited 20 years later.. |
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| Little train rides :p |
During my nightly wanders through this huge
airport I’ve caught a glimpse of Dubai’s flashing lights even though I’ve only
seen them in the distance through the curved airport glass… but even though I’m not going to step outside
this time round, I can delve into fantasy and peer through the window frame to
create the image within… I’m sure it’s more exciting than the reality anyway
(or at least that makes me feel better on this 6 hour stop over :s) I’m on my
way to Adelaide, South Australia to see lover boy. It’ll be my first time in
the land down under, where the toilet flushes backwards and everyone hits a
high note at the end of each sentence… I can’t wait.
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| Godson overtakes godmama |
It is a shame to leave England at its best
though, after having to go through cold and rain for most of the year when
everyone’s working themselves to the bone and conserving their energy for the
seasonal high of summer. And then the clouds clear and the sun comes out (and
it’s actually warm!)… Festival season takes off and everyone’s masks melt away as
girls strip down to flaunt their stuff with a touch of glitter and a natural tan, while the boys get to
actually see what they’ve been imagining beneath all those layers...
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| Beautiful women & best friends 20 years on... |
I’ve been lucky enough to catch two
festivals this year so not all is lost… ‘Digital’ for deep house in Amsterdam
and ‘Loves Saves the Day’ a bit closer to home in Castle Park, Bristol. For a
3.5 hour shift each day I got the perks of a free ticket and an incentive towards
sobriety. My first sober festival was quite an enlightening experience… I never
thought standing still as a human barricade for 3 hours could be so
entertaining (no sarcasm intended)… Everyone around me was clearly mashed, so I
watched the stories of the crowd; to my left, a guy wearing some kind of latex
contraption sat ogling at a motionless pineapples on the floor for 10 minutes,
his facial expression transitioning from looks of horror to delight. It was so
provocative I found myself unconsciously mimicking him as I watched, before realising
with a slight blush and turning my attention to the gurners next to him or the
fist pumpers behind me.
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| Congo Natty at Love saves the day |
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| At Ms. Dynamite! |
The first day poured down with rain so we
danced to DJ EZ, Nina Simone, Annie Mac etc. in welly boots with mascara running
down my face and not a care in the world. The second day was all sunshine and
sparkles, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M36OGCfYp3A) my housemates all came along with their friends so the group was huuge
and somehow, within the crowded confines of the parks perimeters, most of us managed
to stick together for the majority of the time… It was nice having the headspace
to pick and choose who I wanted to see without being plagued by the worry of
what level I was/ wasn’t on… I waltzed into that sunny afternoon with
Gentlemen’s Dub Club getting the vibes flowing on the main stage; later we
wandered through the mud (in my incompatible shoes), being herded along like
sheep around the ancient castle ruins until we popped out the other end to see
Shy FX playing a rather disappointing set (due to a crap MC). Ms. Dynamite took
over and dropped the bomb with her set, the words pouring out of her mouth like
melting gold with a seamlessly sexy flow. Bumping into Congo Natty and ending
with a skank to Jakwob’s heavy dubstep we all walked home with the crowd
through the living streets of Bristol. We passed people freestyling in the
bearpit, danced passed all the drunks at the bars and made friends with festive
strangers, leaving our muddy shoes in a pile outside before our heads hit our
pillows after a cup of tea… and a clear head for mee :)
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| Muma #2 |
So love saved the day and then Vipassana
hit and my world was spun on its axis in every direction before reaching some
kind of stability within the movement… Being thrown back into real life after
10 days of silence was a shock to the system…
The pollution stung my nostrils
and the horns hurt my ears… the homeless flowed past me engaged in broken conversation
but wearing distant expressions on their faces with Ketty eyes and speedy legs.
The suffering surrounding me was so apparent now, after seeing how much is
within yourself one begins to recognise it externally in ten fold. This may, I
recognise, be a pattern of projection… when you’re scared of facing something
or anxious/ feeling any negative emotion, it’s easy to project that onto whatever
you’re experiencing. In other moments its the love people are sharing or the
happiness on a childs face as they wonder off in thought that captures me. This
morning for example, my Grandma, my mother and I all hurried through Clapham
Junction train station in South London to send me off to Gatwick Airport. Three
Generations, each ascending in height from my pepper pot Chinese Grandma to my
half irish muma to me, everyone talking at the same time trying to be in
control and
no one listening. I
looked at them with utmost love and laughed to myself at the repeating patterns.
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| Sunny |
So where was I… after the initial shock,
the wheel started turning and I went straight back to work, the imaginary pound
signs raining down over my summer holiday that was almost in reach. A lovely
last afternoon with N at St. Nicks Market, stripping down to our bikinis in the
one patch of sun in our cat shit ridden garden. My last Japanese dinner with
the girls in long dresses and high heels as we stumbled along trying to
remember how to walk in the impractical inventions that are supposed to look
elegant (even though the ‘walking’ was only to and from the taxi…) And before
long I was taking the posters off my wall (trying not to rip all the wallpaper
along with them) and cramming my life’s belongings into all the possible hidden
free space in the house. I stood, one last time, in the empty room that had
been my safe-haven to reflect on all the good, bad and ugly that the last year
had contained…
On my last morning the fuse had blown (literally)
and the women were wailing as N returned from her night shift to realise her months worth of meat had all defrosted, while the rest of us were in slight limbo as to what to
do. We still managed a cooked breakfast though and K dropped me off with 5
minutes to spare for my bus to London!
Heaving through the crowds with too many
bags and no will to carry them, I broke down in frustration and tears,
wondering why it was so hard to ask for help… I gained a bit of sympathy from
passers by who kindly offered to carry my bags part of the way. Mum met me with
the car in South London and off to Grandmas house we rode. My brother greeted
me as I teared up, hugging a completely different boy from 6 months ago who’d
since sprouted like a beanstalk, sounds like someone’s cranked up the bass but despite
the manliness, still has the same loving tenderness that I hope will never go
away.
We all enjoyed an English tea with my
godparents, a chinese dinner with family and then out of the city we drove as
fast as possible to the lovely vintage cottage that we had the pleasure of
staying at for a few days. When we ‘arrived’ I’d proudly navigated us the whole
way using my phone and instructed everyone to get out the car when we had
‘reached our destination’… if only it was the right destination :s. We unpacked
all our stuff, parked the car and were beginning to walk into the house that we
were quite pleased with, when mum paused for a moment and asked what address
I’d typed in … it saved us an embarrassing confrontation with whoever actually
lived in that big and beautiful house that we were more than ready to move
into. So like in some kind of cartoon, we packed our bags back into the car,
took more than a few wrong turns and finally arrived at the right quaint and much smaller
cottage… woops :s. Pale flowers were
strews around the rooms in glass vases and all the furniture and floorboards
were wooden, white and rustic. We added our own little touches of colourful
fruit and bowls of chocolate or brightly coloured millions for everyone to
munch on. During the days we explored Rye (where Rye bread was created!), rode
on little trains, shopped, visited arcades, beaches, fish n chip shops, lighthouses,
watched the world cup and spent some quality time with our extended L.A family…
We returned to London after a wonderful few
days (with far smoother navigation) and Grandma spent the evening with me in
her tiny little kitchen with all her pots and pans out, teaching me how to cook
a few Chinese staple vegetarian dishes. It’s the best way love can be passed on
through generations really, don’t you think? Especially if some people aren’t
as comfortable with lovey-dovey cuddly stuff…
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| Creative veg meals |
Dad was next on the list of people to see,
so we picked him up the next morning from aunty K’s, briefly stopping off for a
chat to hear about Glastonbury that was coming up and hopping back into the car
for what turned into a 9 hour journey
to Devon. My sanity went out the window first, I blame it partially on the
spider that had left two fang like bite marks on my swollen foot… J very
patiently dealt with me flouncing around singing opera of tunas and caves. The
big annual food shop meant there wasn’t much breathing space in the car with
everyone’s luggage and countless bags of food so we were more than relieved to
unload at the top of the hill where a big hunky tractor was blocking our path.
Obstacle, obstacle run around the obstacle (my regular mantra) & we finally
got to the cottage.
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| Beach time |
The sun was setting, the swans and their fluffy grey signets
were swimming around in the high tide of
the evening and we sat down for a delicious dinner, a world cup match and a
well deserved rest. I tried to remain equanemous with the passport office as I
called daily to check on its progress (as I lost it a few weeks before flying),
the date to Australia was looming near and a hefty fee of a new plane flight was
at stake. To ease everyone’s worries we went on our long walks through
countryside’s, cliffs, beaches and ruins. We kayaked, boated, ate, watched movies,
swam in cold English seas and sunbathed to our hearts content. Rejuvenating
those worn out cells with fresh countryside air.
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| Sibling time :) |
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| Family time <3 |
Old friends came to visit us
and we all took pleasure in indulging in cream teas, roasts and champagne. One
afternoon as the numbness began to spread through my body after a few minutes
of immersing myself in the cold seawater, dad spotted a jellyfish floating
around next to us. I observed this magnificent creature for a while as it spun its
transparent figure and lengthy tentacles in circles and allowed its frills to just break the surface of the water
before gliding below again. I appreciated its simplicity and its symbolic
nature of what this holiday represented. As a wise friend quoted in a recent
letter ‘absence is the greatest form of presence’ and to some extent I agree –
holidays really do bring you back again…
So I got my passport in time :D (after
having to make a day trip to Bristol because I wrote the wrong address down :s)
and it arrived a few days before my departure as I thanked the universe with
open arms because now, I’m here! Sitting in Dubai International Airport,
awaiting the call to board the last 12 hour flight of this 24 hour journey
before I can see my soon-to-be-not-virtual boyfriend, tehe!
Clip of the day: Jonah and pip
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAVWBmblVFQ
Mmm, Bali. A tropical, paradise island in Indonesia home to volcanic mountains, coral reefs and green paddies; it is rich with culture, high in spirit and the perfect place to hold a consciousness raising festival. So that's what happened! We were introduced to The New Earth movement, a consciousness raising initiative run by an eclectic group of individuals that have backgrounds spanning different professions, from tribal leaders to scientists; it brings together ancient wisdom and modern developments to create a conscious future. 
Every day of the festival was themed around a different element. The 'water' day was my favourite; in each beautifully decorated venue around the festival there was a different talk, workshop or meditation about this element. Some were more informative; explaining the water shortage in Bali or the global travesty of what is happening to our water sources; did you know, when water moves through 90° angles (e.g. in the pipes that it must go through before it reach our taps), the natural charge/ beneficial potential of the water is reduced. With the addition of heavy metals, fluoride and other toxic substances to the human body, it essentially becomes 'dead water', stripped of all its natural benefits or 'purified' as the cooperations advertise. The messages had a strong impact and the intention was to raise awareness and empower everyone to become protectors of water; social activists for the precious natural resources we so often take for granted. The negative facts were met with positive solutions; for example we were taught that if water moves through a vortex the molecules are re-energised and re-charged, restoring its beneficial potential. So devices exist that can re-charge our water or, given that our bodies are made of 70% water and our mind is our powerhouse, we can simply set intentions before drinking/ using it to maximise its effect on our body (check out Masaru Emoto for more!). A few scientists attended the gathering and although some things went over my head, you could see that the research of these professionals was extensive. "MNI WICONI", we all shouted - 'water is life'.
