There is a danger in attending an amazing school like Montessori International College, you can become biased and shiny and spiritual and righteous about education and the best way to support children.

While I am often the first to share my love for the school my girls attend, the past year has graciously reminded me learning with presence is the ultimate gift.

My daughters have spent their early years in Yumi and Cooinda and their guides have been nothing short of exceptional. These humans are kind, clear and focussed on supporting the unique expressions of each child in their care. One danger for me is that all the awe and gratitude I feel for the gifts they impart can sometimes start to blind me to all the other ways of guiding and supporting children. This ignorance is entirely my own doing, it has nothing to do with the MIC School, i simply got comfortable and complacent and stopped looking for beauty in learning environments everywhere across this amazing planet.

On our travels around Australia our two girls who had attended Montessori from the start were fortunate to attend two other schools. The first was a tiny public school in a remote indigenous desert community in central Australia. The second a public school in Exmouth WA. They spent nearly 3 weeks in the community school and almost a month in Exmouth and over that time the gifts they received and offered were nothing short of amazing. It was a profound experience to witness their growth and learning over these varied chapters.

Was i scared when they first left my care and entered these ‘mainstream’ environments? Absolutely! I was afraid they might not be held or cared for or given the space they needed to learn and be supported within the traditional framework that is mainstream schooling. I was afraid this may negatively impact their self connection, that they may be negatively influenced or not valued for their sensitivities and learning styles.

Can you guess what happened?

They both thrived. They adapted. They learnt greater flexibility. They were brave and they were lovingly held and cared for by amazing teachers and communities in both instances.

One thing i know to be true is that there are good people everywhere. You see I have friends that teach and work in mainstream schools, private and public schools, Steiner and Montessori schools and some of these teachers have even chosen to home school their children. And you know what they all have in common? Kindness, compassion, care and a genuine desire to support children to grow, learn, discover and build a deep and lasting relationship with themselves through empathy and presence.

My ignorance sometimes judged other learning environments as less than. My fears blinded my vision for the goodness that exists in humans everywhere. Fortunately my rigid certainties were softened as my understanding of my children’s safety grew in these new and varied environments.

School days in the community meant no uniform, a wake up alarm would sound in the morning, another to remind you to have breakfast and a final call to come to school (although their enthusiasm often had them at school long before that last call arrived). School days often went from early morning to dusk. Nightfall reluctantly brought them home. The girls learnt in both a traditional classroom environment and with visits to country, living intimately with the land as an equally valuable teacher. They gathered bush foods, learnt language, dance and culture. They sat with elders on the earth listening to stories as old as 60,000 years. The first day they attended they ran out of the van, along the road and in the school gate. By the third day they would run out of the van, through the desert grass to the nearest 5 foot fence, scale it and continue running to join in with their friends. Formalities fell away, a new connection and presence opened within them. They shared meals with the whole community each lunch, they sang and read together, they built wiltja’s and found birds eggs and tinka’s (lizards) and had more temporary pets than we have ever had in our lives. They learnt about the richness of life and the interconnected nature of death. They ate maku (witchety grubs) malu (kangaroo) tjarla (honey ants) and damper with honey. They collected grasses, made jewellery with the elders, they absorbed through presence downloads from their teachers. It was a timeless sacred experience.

Exmouth offered other opportunities for learning. They had their first uniform ( Freya loved it, she found it novel she got to wear a ‘costume’ everyday while Pearl was tentative about looking like everyone else.) While lesson delivery and the work structure was quite different to their previous experience, the kindness, care and support from their teachers over this time saw both the girls thrive in their learning, expression and courage. Pearl danced and sang and found a new way to share, she read and did homework and questioned the why’s and how’s of the education system. Freya loved the social community she found herself immersed in, she even performed at assembly on her second day at school.

The teachers that guided their learning over this time were exceptional humans. Their willing hearts, their kindness and care, their devotion to supporting the girls learn and expand their education planted seeds that will continue to blossom and grow their whole lives.

I learnt so much over this time too. I’m celebrating I had the opportunity to remember it’s not so much about where they go to school, or the particular system they are in, yet rather the kindness, care and presence of the human beings who guide them.

When i was a little girl i would often call my teacher over to ask a question simply so i could rest in her presence. While she answered the question i would rest in the shade her kindness offered. Maybe it wasn’t the ‘information’ i needed to learn and grow but rather her presence, compassion and care. With my teacher nearby i knew it was safe to open up and explore life. Living alongside my daughters for these expanding times reminded me so much about the true gifts teachers offer.

In todays world there is often much pressure placed on teachers. It can almost seem like they have to ‘perform’ and ensure our children tick all the required educational boxes. I wish i could free them from that heavy load and reassure them that it’s the humanness they share with my daughters which leaves lifelong lasting gifts. I wish we could all remember that maybe it is less about the systems, structure and delivery of materials and more about the presence, kindness and care we embody when guiding others. To me it seems that kindness and care and holding everyone precious regardless of differences is really what the world needs right now. It seems to be kindness, acceptance and care that connects each of us together and ultimately results in learning, discovery and the realisation of the vastness of our human potential.

I bow in reverence and gratitude to all teachers the whole world over. May they be supported with empathy and deep respect, may they be honoured and given space to share their true gifts and may we each be fortunate to be guided by humans such as these.

Lets keep learning our whole lives.

With love and kindness, KMF xo

PS. Special thanks to all the amazing teachers and guides that have blessed my family with their presence, kindness and care. You downloads of ‘being’ are infinitely appreciated xox

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I often share about the richness of navigating blended families. How it’s messy and hard and beautiful all at once. And how even though I have the best intentions things sometimes go wrong. And today they did big time.

Our precious first born began flying alone last year. Up until that time her dad or Grandma had always collected her and flown with her. The decision to fly solo came from Pearl. She decided she could fly more often if she flew as an unaccompanied minor, the flying budget allowed for more trips, so a new chapter began.

I often say motherhood is one giant invitation to let go. Today was a fine example of that.

Each and every time Pearl flies alone I have to make friends with my greatest fears. One is that if the plane crashed she would not have anyone to hold her and love her as it went down, the other is that someone wouldn’t be there to meet her at the other end.

One of those fears came true today.

Through my own mistakes I had her arriving home at 1pm on the 11th January. We have been driving from Perth in WA constantly the past week to ensure we were home to meet her. We had made it as far as Gatton and this morning while we were out with Robs parents a text came through from Pearls dad saying she was on the plane safe and sound and all was well.

Lightning bolts of shock and horror…….

All was not well in my world in that moment.

I was three hours from my baby who was due to arrive on the Sunshine Coast in one hour. I wouldn’t be there for her, no matter what strategies I came up with. Being kind to myself in the midst of that raging ocean of shame was no easy task.

I felt immense shame for my mistakes. Awe at how I actually confused things. Shame for letting her Pearl and her dad down. Shame at myself because if he or anyone else had done the same I would have gone off like a frog in a sock because my safety buttons were so triggered. I felt shame that he was being kind and helpful on the phone when my tolerance of someone else in the same situation would probably be non existent. It wasn’t a pretty or comfortable.  I was in a grand funk.

My first thought was to seek help. I rang a dear friend on the coast repeatedly until she answered. I told her of my predicament and asked her if she could get to the airport in an hour? She was on board in a heart beat. I rang Pearls dad back, he was still at the airport, they got a message through to Pearl on the plane that someone else was picking her up and we went through all the security processes of changing such things. It was time for a deep breath. Safety needs met. Shame waves free to unleash their full force. (It was more a tsunami!)

How do you be kind to yourself when you are in the midst of such an ocean.
Prayer and one simple breath at a time is my only answer.

Bless my dear friend for her kind support. She video called me so I could greet Pearl as she landed. I apologised to her explaining how I had made a mistake and I was so very sorry I was not there to meet her. I showed my vulnerabilities. I told her how I missed her. (This trip was the longest we had ever been a part and I was stretched even before my crisis.)

Bless her heart, she told me it was ok, she loved me anyway and that she was so excited her best friend was there to pick her up.

I love the community we live in. I am eternally thankful for the kindness and support that exists. Today reminded me to keep trusting life, there is always someone willing to support and I was reminded it really does take a community to raise a child.

I bow to Pearls other family for their patience and compassion with me and my mistakes. I pray for humility to grow my tolerance and compassion to all.

Life is messy, hard and beautiful.

Lets be kind to ourselves even on the hard days. And lets be honest, I am pretty sure none of you have left your child in an airport and scheduled yourself to arrive 3 days later.

Bless us all!

All my love and frailties,

KMF xo

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Check out my desk! It’s in the same room as the rest of my house! Yep, i write in my bedroom, the kids room, our kitchen, dining, lounge and everything else room. This is caravan living. Four of us in close confines. Mostly is amazing. Travel is amazing. Except when it’s not. Shitty days happen wherever you are on this planet. And in a caravan there is nowhere to hide.

It looks beautiful right now. See? That’s because it’s Monday morning and i’ve reclaimed some space for my very own. That’s my laptop, learning to use a mac has been nothing short of the richness! Slowly, steadily, as with most change we are making friends.

Can you see the purple meditation cushion, that’s the writing side of the table. See the other side, i slide around there when i need to edit things. The writing side is by far more comfortable for me. Life flows through me and I love the surprise of what comes out. The editing side is not as fun. Editing for me is a total brain melt. Shitty bits are part of every job, even the ones you entirely love. As for editing, we are at least looking at each other with the consideration of making friends. My editor is a saint. A miracle worker. I bow to her! I pray she goes no where any time soon!

This book is drawing closer to completion. I will be done at the end of the month. Pre-orders will begin in December because we all need some support and inspiration at the start of each new year, or in the least i know i do. Printing is a whole other world i know nothing about. Lucky I don’t have to manage everything! I believe it will be released in March, stay tuned.

Right now I am immersed in this labour of love. If you have a spare moment please send a little thought my way. When it arrives I will snuggle that energy close to my heart and in some way your kindness will flow out of me into the book.

Excited much.

Thankful beyond measure.

Scared? Of course! I’m showing up anyway.

Big love to each of you, please remember to be kind to you. You are precious in my world xo

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For countless years I searched for love, wanted to be loved, wanted to be cherished and all at the same time didn’t understand what vulnerability was required to actually become saturated with that juicy goodness.

The world in addition to the countless Disney movies I consumed taught me love was meant to feel good, if it didn’t feel good it wasn’t love. And love most definitely was an outside job. For love to be real it must come from someone or something outside my own shadow filled self. It must be profound, convenient and clearly labelled, these were the kinds of things that I believed made love real.

(For the record let me be clear here when i speak about love not always feeling good, I am in no way referring to any kind of violence. Violence, emotional, physical or any other kind is NEVER ok and absolutely NOT any part of love. It must not be tolerated, accepted or hidden. Ever. Ever.)

When I speak of the parts of love that don’t feel good what I am referring to is the willingness inside myself to move towards those aspects of myself I found and sometimes still find undesirable. You see it would have been highly convenient if the world or someone else could love those undesirable bits of me so i could feel good, accepted, valued, beautiful, enough. I wanted my worthiness to come from an external source.  An external person. An external thing. (Addiction lives here). And although sometimes love can be reflected back to us by something outside of ourselves, it is only ever a signpost back to the truth of what is already in existence inside of us. Love is an inside job, any other version rarely lasts long.

Some of my demands were for someone to love and cherish me the way I deserved. And the shit storm started there. Because when someone does love and support you so entirely and you still feel unworthy, you have the opportunity to turn and face the truth, to run or to suffer. There is no where else to hide. If every external demand you have made has been met and you are still not happy, its time to face the music. The internal music. The song that never ends.

That’s what i call the hot seat. This hot seat is the invitation you have been waiting for your whole life. It’s your deepest yearning to get real and honest and messy so you can make friends with your own internal chaos. But more about that in my upcoming book.

What I can share with you now is this.

By turning towards all that petrified me about myself, by finding the courage to sit and make friends with my yucky icky undesirable shame filled bits, this divine man appeared in my life. And when he appeared I turned towards myself, and him.

He showed up and I let him in. In doing so I stood far beyond any confines of comfort I had ever known in my life. It hasn’t changed.

I vulnerably love with all my being and at the same time i know it is 100 percent guaranteed one of us will leave the other. That happens to everyone we know and love. We leave each other. We all eventually have to farewell this life. Our time is finite.

So when he pulls over in the car and wanders off into a paddock I wait. I sit, I weave and reflect. And when he appears back at the side of the car with these in his hands love leaks out my eyes. I see him. I love. I let that love in. It breaks me. And in my sacred brokenness my light floods out and touches the world.

My heart is willing to make friends with my sharp corners and from there I can be that big warm hug the world is desperate for.

I show up,

In love and service,

K xoxo

The post Letting Love In… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

It was a chapter where my girlfriends were everything. They were my support, my inspiration, my confidantes and my encouragement. They challenged me to grow beyond my awareness and abilities. They laughed with me. Cried with me. They lived the questions of life alongside my growing fragile heart. We traded stories and tears and food and dreams. We imagined what was to come and invested heart-fulls of possibility into how we thought the future would unfold for each of us. Those days were precious and at the time I thought they would go on for ever.

The thing is, they didn’t.

Fast forward a decade or so and life is very different. Life has been richer and more colourful than I ever imagined possible. This sacred sisterhood helped me navigate my teens, twenties, thirties, marriages, divorce, separation, children, loss and losing loved ones to suicide. We have each had to say goodbye to precious people way too soon. Our hearts have broken and mended more times than I can count. We have fallen and risen and fallen again.

For the most part those of us still living check in as often as we can. We balance our own families and extended families and partners families and friends and children and careers and volunteer jobs and homes and gardens and communities all while doing our best to stay connected to our own hearts and the dreams we planted in them long ago.

Truthfully, life continues to get better. And by better I mean more fulfilling and beautiful. At the same time my responsibilities have increased many times over. I have so many people to consider with every decision I make its taken me years to remember I actually have permission to consider me too.

This dance, this rich, fulfilling everything I ever dreamt of responsibility dance fills every moment of my day. I am fulfilled. I am stretched. I am thankful and content.

I still have the same number of moments in each day, yet the smorgasbord of options to share those moments with has expanded exponentially.

So, sitting here, glancing you three across the room melted my heart. The beauty of the chapter you are living made my eyes leak. And the beauty of this chapter I am living does the same.

Sometimes I watch my mum and her girlfriends. They have entered a chapter I am yet to arrive in and know very little about. I notice how they are always laughing and I wonder if I’ve become a bit too serious. I remember how in an earlier chapter of my life, exploring with my girlfriends, I was so quick to laugh. If I’m truthful that chapter of deep exploration also contained a bathtub of tears too. And while this current chapter of life is ever so constant, and we don’t see each other as much as we used too, we each do our best to carve out sacred time to share together. And dreaming forward as our little ones grow I’ve got to wondering if a version of that spacious life will come again? I’d love another chapter with my precious girlfriends where we have freedom to plan road trips and festivals and adventures. One where we can reminisce about the previous chapter of our life that was full of little children, unending juggling and responsibilities, yet somehow deeply sacred while it swallowed every waking moment.

So whatever chapter you find yourself in, may you be blessed. May you have the support and encouragement and the belief of other women. And even if you stand alone may you remember there are countless women behind you, me included. We are trusting you. Believing for you. Encouraging you and counting on you to show up brave and real.

Be blessed my dears,
All love ❤️
Bless you three beauties, please write to me if you ever read this xoxo

And Thank you, AGAIN, with all my heart.

(The Vegie Bar, Brunswick Street, Fitzroy Victoria).

The post A window through time… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

I just awoke from a dream. It was a dream of my first husband, sobbing, desperate, needing to cut me out. And the pain he was feeling was that near death, eat you alive pain I too felt when I left, and still know at times like this, even 10 years on. You see I never stopped loving him. He was a good man. The best you could ask for. And me leaving meant nothing about him, yet of course he must have believed it did. If you love another human as wholeheartedly and purely as he did, and then she left, of course you are going to draw conclusions and surmise it’s about you. Well the whole truth is, it wasn’t about him. To this day I don’t really understand why I left. I could say it’s so I could have Pearl and Freya and give to the world the way I do, but that’s me telling stories. The best understanding I can grasp is that it was an act of fierce grace. One of those unexplainable inner urgings that are so strong you don’t really get a choice. They burn you up from the inside, and following their whims is your only option. It was like I was on auto pilot. And I knew I was destroying my life, yet I had to follow through. The only blessing at the time was I was so ignorant I felt like I was doing him a favour. I believed that me leaving was his best chance at a peaceful life. A life where he could live out his contented hearts wishes, simply, everyday. Maybe that same wildness that drives people to suicide also drove me to leave, I don’t know to this day. It never made sense. It was the only way I knew how to give him the freedom he deserved. And it broke me open so deeply that the ravines of those wounds still surface today.

People don’t talk about these kinds of things. Or at least the people I know don’t. I kind of got passed this neat little basket of what love is and isn’t from society – culture – the world. It was the kind of package that says you love one person, and should you ever break up, they collect all their belongings and move completely out of your heart. And then you both move on and find new people to take up lodgings. And this didn’t happen. 10 years on, I’ve been separated from him a little longer than we were together, and when I think of his heart and my love for him my eyes leak just the same as they did all those years ago. This man was a good man, a man of integrity and honesty and kindness. Even to this very moment his wisdom continues to mould and shape my life, his love keeps on giving, whether he knows it or not. I learnt to serve my children by reflecting on the unending patience and love he offered me. He is the human who taught me not everyone is ready for the whole truth and “sometimes you have to feed people sandwiches, not a whole smorgasbord”. This man was different to all the others I had ever met, and the very moment I saw him I remember thinking “one day I want to marry a man like that”. The thing is, I was scared of myself. Gee I was scared of the world, and I’d not learnt to sit in my fear the way he had. I couldn’t even see that he had those gifts. I’d come from a long line of women whose deepest safety resource was to run or in the least shut down, so unconsciously, that’s what I did. It wasn’t a choice, it was a thundering force within my basic makeup that left me with no other option. In no way do I hold those women responsible for my choices, no doubt that same knowledge was passed to them from their great grandmothers and they too felt choiceless. It was instinctual. That force propelled me into some of the darkest chapters of my life by wrapping itself in cheap gift wrap with the words adventure sprawled all over. And adventure hides brokenness, at least for a while. But God when that son of a gun brokenness comes raining down on you, you best be prepared to lay down and take the dues owed to you. And for an unknown amount of future chapters you shall know the richness of its ways. I spent almost 3 years laying on various kitchen floors, in numerous parts of the world, sobbing, begging the earth to swallow me, all the while questioning my sanity. I was self consumed with shame and guilt and remorse and grief. Deep deep grief. A grief that shaved my bones continually because for some unknown reason I’d given up everything I’d ever dreamed of. All because of something inside me pushing me to action. A restlessness that never let me rest, even when I was happy. If anyone read this they could say it was depression or mental illness, maybe it was both? Although the ache was so deep it felt like it came from the belly of the earth so maybe it was something more than that? Who knows. What is known is that the ache propelled me to choices that impacted the lives of many people I love deeply, to this day. And the effects of my choices are my responsibility to carry, until I take my last breath. And for what it’s worth, I plan to hold each of those people with unending honour until that moment comes…

So getting back to love, and for simplicities sake, let’s stick with romantic love for now. You know the girlfriend and boyfriend type. The best way I can explain what it is like for me is this. My heart is kind of like a big house, filled with rooms. And as I love, more rooms get added. They all have different sizes and contents and decorations. Some are tiny, like the ‘Marty Wright’ room, the boy I loved when I was four because he snuck me chewing gum, he was my hero. There are even rooms for the people I love that I didn’t actually ever get to meet. I for sure had a ‘Ben Harper’ room, a’Johnny Depp’ room (how many houses has he lived in?) ‘some guy off tv’ who had blonde hair and blue eyes room (his poster was on my bedroom wall for years whose name escapes me now), ‘that guy’ I had a crush on in highschool who at the time I would have given my left kidney to speak to that I’m now glad I never dated… The list really does go on…. But the thing is, they all still live in my heart. They have each moulded and shaped me and grown me into who I am today. I know for some it’s a shuddering thought, an ‘oh my god I’m not even willing to entertain that idea for half a breath longer that I might have (…insert…) lodging in my heart’ , but stay with me here. The thing is, you don’t have to decide what you think right now, just be curious a while longer….

So as we love new people, rooms keep being added, maybe no one ever moves out, our hearts capacity to love simply has to grow bigger as we move more people in. And this is where our current society/cultural views confuse things. This modern disposable world likes to believe you can throw out old loves like you do your outdated iPhone. It’s done. Something better comes along, trade it in. And I’m not for a moment saying don’t trade something in for another version, I’m simply inviting you to consider maybe it’s possible that your heart keeps track of those past versions of love (old lovers) even when your mind does not, and that these past lovers have a much greater impact on our current life than we may dare to entertain. Let me give you an example. I was at a weekend workshop recently where we each had the opportunity to witness or take part in a wedding ceremony. It was not the average ceremony yet it felt more accurate than any I had seen. In this instance it was a bride and groom ( it would be equally as relevant with two brides or two grooms or any other make up) and they stood facing each other. Other people were then called to step into the circle and represent various people and line up behind the bride and groom. Firstly people were called to represent their parents/ stepparents, then representatives were called for their siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great grandparents, great great grandparents, all finally all their past lovers….. And they all stood behind the bride and groom, so you had quite a lot of people facing each other. All of a sudden, a simple two person marriage ceremony got a lot more complex. And taking that person in marriage actually meant taking on a whole lot more than we may have acknowledged. Maybe we are a sum of all our ancestors who have come before us, all who have sacrificed for us and loved us and all those we have loved. And if you are serious about loving with your whole heart, inviting yourself to a curiosity about such things may be an interesting place to begin. I myself didn’t know such things at 21 when I married the first great love of my life. I was unconsciously ignorant to my past and bound by things I would not begin to see or understand for many years to come. The only thing I did know, and still do, is that I love that man, that he is everything good and whole and real in this world, and the room he has in my heart is as clean and shiny today as it was that first day I glanced him across the dance floor at debut practice. And I’m forever thankful he lives there, even when my tender heart leaks out my eyes and I miss him. You know my children know this man, not in real life as circumstances have prevented me from seeing him for many years, but they know him in the stories of love and joy and sadness that I share with them. That’s my gift to them, to know the truth of loving so fully it keeps breaking your idea of love open again and again. Maybe as they grow and love and build rooms for people in their hearts, they won’t have to carry the shame of still loving those people, even after they have left their lives. Just because it’s not yet common place in the world to be taught ‘of course you can still love them’, ‘No, it doesn’t take away from your current love’, I’m determined to have that be on offer as an understanding for my children. To my way of living love doesn’t exist to invoke shame or regret, but rather exists to grow our hearts unendingly until our last breath, and maybe even more after that. I want my girls to know the richness of love and for them to have the courage to explore the possibility that each experience of loving will live in them forever, in some way, whether or not they remember or acknowledge it.

From where I’m sitting the world is desperate for more love and regardless of our budget I’m certain we can all afford to splash that stuff around lavishly everywhere. It’s not going to hurt, or maybe it will, either way it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

And who knows, if we hold each other precious and sacred and acknowledge the whole sum of who we are, maybe we would realise we are not so different after all? Maybe our inner wars would cease and the world may look different?

Now as a disclaimer, my heart has not known simple. Not ever. It’s a richly woven tapestry of complexities that are apparent even from my earliest memories. So please feel no obligation to see the world as I do. God forbid that would ever happen. This is simply a raw uncensored sharing from my deepest heart. That’s what I do. So please be gentle with me, for all my courage I’m still a fragile human being. Kindness is important, sharing is scary, yet my vulnerability is the light that guides my way.

(These words are shared with the deepest gratitude and acknowledgement to my incredible husband Rob who supports me to be raw and real and unleash these uncensored sharings on the world. It is my infinite blessing to have married a man who holds precious the many roads my heart travelled to find my way to his. These well trodden roads are the reason that we share the love we do today. And it’s true that he too has many past lovers living in his heart, all of whom offered him gifts and beauty and polishing. I’m off to meet another of them later in the month. Their past loving kindness form part of the divine I treasure in him today. Bless you and thank you Roberto xoxo)

The post My love and honesty scare me, here’s a window to my past anyway xo appeared first on Kate M Foster.

I have learnt that 2 showers a day is a lavish luxury, that I can actually wear the same jeans 3 days in a row and on a few occasions I have even turned my thermals inside out to get another day! The girls usually wear their outside layer for 4 days and being clean does not equal being happy. I have also discovered when we do stay in caravan parks for showers their is usually one big shower head mixed amongst the water saving ones! Ahhhh…

Dalhousie springs was an oasis. We stayed for 4 days, I could have stayed a lot longer. Imagine a great big stone bottomed tree lined dam, with pretty clear water and 38 degree warm water! Heaven! I was clean for 4 days in a row and could take a bucket full of water for washing up, no heating required. There were thousands of tiny fish in the water and they suck your dead skin off, this was bizarre at first, I soon learnt to keep moving. Rob tells me you have to pay 5 bucks to get a foot treatment like that in Thailand! The girls loved Dalhousie and the sunsets were breathtaking. We met a beautiful ranger called Sarah who joined us for a tea party, it was quite a mission cooking choc chip cookies in the camp oven, luckily before I ran out of dough Rob helped me get the heat right.

We reluctantly left dalhousie, vowing to return to do a crossing of the Simpson desert in the next few years.

We decided to go via Mount Dare and do the Andado Track on our way into Alice Springs. It was a breathtaking drive, we visited the old Andado homestead, Molly the owner is in an aged care home in Alice now, she leaves her homestead open, unlocked and unchanged from when she left, food still in place, and people are welcome to go inside and visit. It was something else to see, I don’t know how she lived out there, it didn’t feel right to take photos inside, check out the borders of her gardens though… I have never seen that before. She had some gorgeous kick arse crockery too!

We saw some 700 year old wattle trees that don’t grow anywhere else in the world and the colours of the sand dunes at sunset were hard to believe.

Freya’s eye had been sore and sticky for 4 days, we thought she had conjunctivitis but finally discovered gravel wedged in there ( insert tons of mother guilt here). We were 250km of rugged dirt road from Alice, I panicked, we got the ‘wrong’ irrigation liquid out of the first aid kit, tried to wash her eye out, burnt her eye, panicked more, the sat phone wouldn’t work to get help, then we eventually got through to the sat phone provider who transferred us to NT Police, who transferred us to the ambulance service, who then transferred us to the poisons info line. Thankfully we didn’t do lasting damage to her eye. . It was a long 5 hour drive to Alice hospital, lots of waiting, they put her under and cleaned the eye and we arrived home around 10pm. Longest day – pearl was so amazingly patient and kind. All ended well.

The next day we met Danny at Alice airport and miss Pearl flew to Sydney for flower girl duties at her great aunts wedding. She says her real title was pirate princess, her dress was to hide her sword in 😉 she is due back tomorrow. Her grandparents are flying her back and having a few days at Uluru too.

We have spent 6 days in Alice, we attempted to get bearing caps and they sent the wrong ones for the second time, so off we went to woolies to buy new beetroot tins and now we are in back in business.

We have also had a much needed rest, I felt so exhausted and was told everywhere I rang that it is a 3 week wait to get a massage anywhere in Alice. Thankfully my prayers led me to Sita who offered to treat us on her day off. Such a graceful and serendipitous meeting which led to so many realizations. I now have clarity about the direction of my worldly contribution, stay tuned 🙂 it is unfolding.

Rob met a beautiful old Aunty called Selma and bought a painting from her, ask him about it if you remember, it is truly sacred.

I have been carting a small suitcase of Shining Heart Jewellery with me, by chance we did the Todd mall markets, it was fun, I traded a necklace for a beautiful skirt with another stall holder, I love trades!

Yesterday Rob, Freya and I did an indigenous tour with Ricky at Wurre (rainbow valley). It was a special experience viewing art and engravings, learning about his land and finding bush foods. We tried native figs and plums, amazingly one little fig the size of a 5c piece is equal to 9 oranges…. Survival in the desert is compact! It took a few hours of walking through country with Ricky pointing out artifacts for my brain to catch up with seeing in a new way. He was using the shadow from his stick to point to things, I of course was looking at where the actual stick was pointing so struggled til I caught up. The sunset was incredible, we sat on the clay pan, rob played the didj and the earth offered a magnificent display of colour true to rainbow valley.

Life is so very full and I am remembering how to hold the richness as precious, at times it can be tempting for me to dump some of my experiences into the pain in the ass basket, yet life is gently nudging me to remember the preciousness of all things. Thankfully I’m getting it in this moment!

Freya turns 1 next week, wow, fancy that!!

Love to all, Will try to post photos tomorrow xxx

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William creek was cool too, the oldest pub in Australia. A lovely meal that cost a small fortune and a really interesting bar. It has been built out of railway iron and sleepers, the iron stands vertically, the sleepers lay horizontally in between, this makes the walls. I hope you can imagine it. We spoke to some pilots that mentioned lake eyre is the only place they know of that you can fly below sea level, some places are 16m below, the lowest part of Australia! Interesting and a bit of fun for their instruments as they are set to calculate from sea level.

Mostly these remote roads have been pretty good, we escaped a flat tyre on the oodnadatta track, it was recently graded so the old ghan line was stirred up. Some people we have passed have had two flats in a day.

We have had a bit of damage from the rocks out here. Luckily Rob has spent 20 years in engineering! His next business venture is going to be Beetroot Bob’s running repairs, check out the piccies ( he has emptied all the beet root out of my pantry to use the tins to fix our wheels. The latest upgrade to our bearing caps, beyond the beetroot tins that is, has been foam strips wired on as the rocks are unforgiving and ruthless! We have chips in our front and rear windows, reversing camera, we lost a headlight today. I reckon we are doing well on the whole considering conditions.

Coober pedy was BIZARRE, really truly UNIQUE. The town itself and all the under ground buildings are interesting and have their charm, and at the same time the vibe in town was unnerving for me. It felt like it was the kind of place you go and some how it may entwine itself around you, it felt like you could very easily get stuck. We met lovely people, ate lovely food (a melting pot of culture and cuisine) and I even scored a really beautiful opal ring from Rob. The country surrounding town was a mixture of mining holes and striking colourful formations. The Breakaways is an area where the earth exposes herself in such rich and varied colours, so it was worth a visit, I won’t be lining up to return to Coober Pedy too soon though.

When you leave town and head towards Oodnadatta thestretch of road is called the moon scape. All you can see are flat rock covered plains, totally devoid of life. Nothing growing at all. Not even a blade of grass. I didn’t even see a bird or hawk. I didn’t know country like that existed. It sure was something else to witness!

Traveling further along, the road into the painted desert was a shocker! Horrifically bad road actually. Really really terrible. The view was tainted a little by the experience of the road conditions, beautiful colours and again unusual formations, happy to share piccies to save you the trip and damage to your vehicle!

We booked into the caravan park at the pink roadhouse in Oodnadatta, intriguing place! Photos tell all. It was a huge day of rough driving and we were tired after setting up, so thought we would grab dinner at the Oodnadatta pub. Holy moly it was a rockin’ place. Seems they only sell packet chips and drinks. Today they got their first duke box. We could hear it from a km away. We turned up after dark and their was a huge fire out front, half a dozen dogs and a dozen people with skin so dark and gorgeous you couldn’t see them aside from the fire glow.

We stepped inside and I felt so white, I’ve never felt white before, but I now know to the core of myself what it feels like. There was so much joy and dancing and fun, and I felt like I was crazy being there with the girls!!! I ordered a lemonade and came to terms with being out of place, slowly realising i was not going to die, then a beautiful woman smiled at me. I smiled back, she came over, her name was Anna and we had the best connection and conversation! Such a wise soul who has experienced so much in her life, and blossomed with the colours. Next we met Rutherford a real old fella, he came over and asked me to dance but i opted to talk instead ( partypooper I am). He must have been in his 80’s. He told me about his country and the days when the big old black train would come through with white people. Such a remote life out here. Oodnadatta is the hottest driest place in Australia, and it looks like it. I like it a whole lot more than Coober Pedy. I am feeling so utterly relieved to be out in open spaces again, away from all those buried little worlds.

Our Next stop will be Dalhousie Springs. Looking forward to 38 degree spring water, been missing my bath. After that we are heading towards Alice. Praying the smooth road and travel gods are with us.

Blessings and love to each of you from this remote wild country.

Xxx

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The post Some photos from our travels… appeared first on Kate M Foster.

Mount remarkable down in SA is really gorgeous place. One of my plans during our trip was to meet up with my biological dad and his wife and introduce them to the girls, this seemed like a great place to let that happen. Janice doesn’t camp, so it was a big thing for her. Bill on the other hand has been bush a big part of his life. He told me about how when he was out bush with the old elders, they would make a “blackfellas electric blanket”. This consisted of digging a pit, lighting a fire, burying over the coals and sleeping on top, he guarantees it kept them warm. He has so many stories about culture of his times spent out bush, I am thirsty to learn.

The girls had a ball and it was beautiful to see them playing together. Pearl had them doing all kinds of tricks like jumping roads and star jumps.

I didnt find out about Bill being my biological dad untill i was 17, it was just one of those things that some how goes unsaid in families. I have seen Bill and Janice twice before, when I met them when I was 21 and again when I was 25. This was my third meetup, i am 33. They live in Port Augusta so it always seemed like such a long way away. We keep in touch via phone and email regularly and since the girls have come along it has become more important for me to grow our connection.

Visiting their house for the first time really intrigues me. I was astounded about some of the similarities between Bill and I, especially because we have not really had time together. His house is filled with indigenous art amazing gifts he has been given from indigenous friends. He has spent his life time learning culture from the old elders. He has tons of crystals and has made gem trees and even collects the old green glass I do. I had tea party envy when i saw his collection. These little things were beautiful reminders to me of how interconnected we are, even without realizing it.

It also turns out I have a sister, Naomi, who is 28. Bill said he wanted to tell me about her in person. So when we arrived at camp he did. I felt a bit like i was on one of those “this is your life” shows. The next morning i met Naomi and her beautiful family. It’s been a big week! She was lovely, and i am really thankful we got to meet each other, and i look forward to getting to know her as life allows.

The other big surprise for me was learning Bills grandma, my great grandma, was indigenous. While it was a surprise on one level, learning this has helped me understand my deep passion for indigenous culture and the deep respect i have always felt for it. I’m still not quite sure where everything fits into my being. It feels like a gentle trickle into something greater, so for now I am exploring with curiosity these newly discovered parts of me.

Life flows on.

We are now camped at Rawsnsley Park, an amazing place bordering the national park of wilpena pound. I am sitting alongside my gorgeous man, next to a beautiful fire with the stars shining overhead. Today we did an incredible hike with the girls, we climbed to the top of the pound, pearl climbed all by herself. I had thought it was a 6.4km hike, it seems that was one way 🙂 it is the steepest climb I have ever done, the view was spectacular and my awe at pearls spirit and ability expanded even more! The rangers were so surprised she made it they gave her a badge!

The rock art is different here than I have seen before, there are a lot of etchings and engravings and less actual ochre or charcoal art. Interesting.

Well, the girls are both asleep and it’s getting pretty chilly, my tired legs are dreaming of bed. Nighty night all, sleep sweet xxx

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