Molly Carlile

Welcome

2010-12-10T09:55:00.001+11:00

This site is dedicated to providing you with useful information about life, death and dying, palliative care, grief and loss, spirituality, meaning, complementary therapies and the arts. An eclectic mix of subjects that motivate and inspire me... I hope they inspire you! Read on to find out more.

About Molly Carlile

Molly has had an extensive career in health, specialising in palliative care. As a registered nurse, an accredited counsellor, educator and university lecturer she has provided clinical care and grief and bereavement support for clients of all ages, in addition to providing extensive education programs for health professionals, schools and community organisations.

Molly has worked in a range of environments from acute metropolitan health services to inpatient palliative care units and the community, both rural and regional. Her senior leadership and management roles have enabled Molly to establish a process of supervision, self care and clinical support for staff members from a range of disciplines. Molly has a firm commitment to the philosophy of holistic care for clients and holistic self care for health professionals.

Molly is currently Manager of the North and West Metropolitan Region Palliative Care Consortium. Comprising nine member organisations, the consortium facilitates palliative care provision for the largest and most diverse region in Victoria.

Molly’s private consultancy practice has seen her provide consultancy, education and project management for a wide range of clients including Victoria and Monash Universities, Victorian Department of Human Services, Palliative Care Victoria and numerous metropolitan and regional palliative care consortia. She regularly conducts one and two day seminar programs for a variety of organisations including Ausmed and Royal District Nursing Service.

As a Reiki Master/ Teacher in addition to her health and education qualifications, Molly has demonstrated her eagerness to embrace both conventional and complementary approaches to her work. Molly has a firm commitment to the “compassionate workplace” concept and actively promotes this approach both in the health and corporate sectors, in her regular speaking engagements. Molly has written a number of book chapters, regularly contributes articles to a variety of professional and mainstream publications and is currently working on her second book, due for publication mid 2010. Her first children’s book, “Jelly Bean’s Secret” tells the story of a family experiencing the death of their much loved Grandma and was published in 2005 by Innovative Resources.

Molly has been a frequent guest on radio and television, addressing issues of death, grief and community connection. She helps people develop strategies to have senstive conversations with children about death, before they are faced with the death of someone they love.

Molly has embraced the arts as a vehicle for awakening people to the need for death to be normalised as part of life, for de-mystifiying dying and for empowering people to talk about death with their kids as they would sex, drugs and all of the other elements of life that kids need to learn about. Winner of a 2008 Winston Churchill Memorial Fellowship, Molly travelled to the U.S, U.K and Ireland in 2009 to explore how others are using the arts to address issues of health and wellness. Her project "Using the arts to encourage community conversations about death and grief" saw her invited to speak at a number of international organisations.

Molly collaborated with celebrated actor and playwright, Alan Hopgood in the production of “Four Funerals in One Day” a play that explores the role of storytelling in the lives of dying patients and their carers. “Four Funerals in One Day” premiered to great acclaim at the 9th National Palliative Care Conference in Melbourne on August 29th 2007 and has been touring nationally ever since. This performance piece challenges the audience to think about death, relationships, the burden of caring and euthanasia. She is currently working on a number of arts based projects that will be launched in 2010.

Molly is a passionate and entertaining speaker who challenges her audiences to explore their personal values, their views on life and death and their understanding of altruism and empathy. In her public speaking role, Molly promotes personal reflection, empowerment and compassion as essential tools to developing rewarding personal and professional relationships and ultimately to contributing positively to humanity.

Winner of the inaugural Arts and Health Australia Award for Health Promotion in November 2009, Molly plans to expand her participation in the international arts and health movement in 2010.

Fellow Royal College of Nursing Australia
Fellow of the Australian Institute of Company Directors (AICD)
Associate Fellow Australian College of Health Service Executives (ACHSE)
Graduate member of the Australian Institute of Professional Counsellors (AIPC)
Accredited Counsellor, Supervisor, Member of the Australian Counselling Association (ACA)
Accredited Grief and Loss Counsellor, Educator and Supervisor with the National Association for Loss and Grief (NALAG)
Accredited Reiki Master/Teacher (ARC Inc.)

Board Member Quay Initiatives Australia (encouraging selfless living)
Board member Chaplains without Borders
Past Member of the Board of Management of Palliative Care Victoria (PCV)
Past Board member Altruism Australia (formerly Australian Altruism Foundation)
Past Board member Bass Coast Regional Health
Judge Australian Turtle Awards (Australian Altruism Foundation)
Judge Australian Humanitarian Awards (AAF)

Churchill Fellow 2008

Palliative Care gets a mention in the 'great health debate"

2010-03-23T16:47:00.002+11:00

I nearly fell off my chair today when our Prime Minister mentioned palliative care during the televised debate with Opposition Leader Tony Abbott about health. I hope this was an indication that we are finally hitting the mainstream radar! Mr. Rudd didn't mention any other specialist care streams other than emergency and elective waiting lists, so palliative care being mentioned in his presentation related to beds, infrastructure spending and service delivery was most encouraging! It's up to us now to keep the momentum going............talk about death, grief and palliative care every where you go and maybe, just maybe we might finally get some investment in not only service delivery, but in health promoting palliative care and community engagement. Onward and upward!

Launch of "Who Am I?" Spirituality Resource Education Package

2010-01-20T10:36:00.002+11:00

A seminar on March 22nd 2010 at the Treacy Centre, Parkville will launch an extensive education package for participants. The Who Am I? Spirituality Resource was developed by the Spirituality Committee of the North and West Metropolitan Region Palliative Care Consortium in 2008 to assist people to have conversations about spirituality with patients, students, clients and residents. The resource has been embraced by people working in palliative care, but has a wider application to other healthcare areas, schools, community centres, aged care and in the general community.
Feedback we have received indicated that some people still felt apprehensive about how to use the Who Am I? Spirituality Resource, so the committee with support from the consortium has developed an extensive education package to assist organisations in training their staff in the use of the Who Am I? resource. The Education Package will be launched at a seminar on March 22nd 2010 in Parkville. The seminar will replicate the information in the Education Package so participants will be able to experience the education first and then utilise it in their own work environments.

All participants in the seminar will receive a FREE copy of the Education Package as part of their registration. Numbers are STRICTLY limited, so be quick to book your place! See the flyer below for more details:

An interactive full day seminar to launch the “Who Am I?” Spirituality Resource Education Package will be held on March 22nd, 2010 at the Treacy Centre, 126 The Avenue, Parkville. The seminar will provide an opportunity for registrants to participate in a program developed to assist you in training staff in your organization in the use of the Who Am I? Spirituality Resource.
All participants in the seminar will receive the education package (including powerpoint presentations, DVD role play, 5x copies of the resource, pdf versions of the worksheets, pdf version of the “Capturing the Conversation” template and a generic evaluation form) free once their seminar registration fee is paid. Additional copies will be made available at a discounted price on the day for participants only.
Copies of the education package will be made available for purchase at the full price to those who are unable to attend the seminar.
Registrations will open at the beginning of February however expressions of interest are now requested from anyone wishing to attend. As participant numbers are strictly limited, you are encouraged to express your interest as soon as possible to Kerrie Chambers via email: kerriec@pacific.net.au in order to receive a registration kit.
This is an opportunity to attend an interactive, interdisciplinary seminar that will assist you in having conversations about spirituality with patients and families, using the “Who Am I?” resource. It is also an opportunity to receive the Who Am I? Education Package for FREE as part of your registration.
So DON’T DELAY …………….. register your interest as places will fill fast.
“WHO AM I?” SPIRITUALITY RESOURCE

Four Funerals knocks 'em dead!

2009-12-18T09:58:00.003+11:00

We performed "Four Funerals in One Day" at the Arts and Health Conference to great international acclaim!. It was so exciting to see a full auditorium of international people clap madly and give a standing ovation to the incredibly talented team of Alan Hopgood, Michelle Hall, Jenny Seedsman and Margot Knight at the completion of the performance! The forum that Alan and I convened was equally well received. It was also really exciting to have Ambassador for Ageing, Noelene Brown in the audience. Gotta say I was a little star struck having watched her on television when I was a kid!

Four Funerals has done really well this year touring widely in metropolitan and rural Victoria and interstate. Everywhere we go, people really engage with the concepts explored during the play and enjoy the interaction of the forum. So many people have said to me that they were a little nervous that it would be 'morbid" because of course the topic is death, but it's wonderful to hear people laughing during the performance and to hear their responses afterwards. Things like "It was funny, I laughed out loud but it made me think at the same time" are common things we hear from people.

Next year we hope to take "Four Funerals in One Day" back interstate and to do some more performances in Melbourne and Victoria. If you're interested in bring it to your town..........let us know. We'll go anywhere! It's a great way to get your community thinking about how they can support each other by having timely conversations about death and grief.

Special thanks to my close friend and colleague Alan Hopgood and to our wonderful team of performers for making "Four Funerals in One Day" the success it has been to date and I can't wait to see it go international in 2010!

Arts and health Australia Inaugural award for Health Promotion

2009-12-18T09:53:00.003+11:00

Receiving my award

Some speaking gig shots from 2009

2009-12-18T09:03:00.000+11:00

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Conference and speaking engagements are finished for the year

2009-12-18T08:31:00.003+11:00

Well all of my speaking gigs are finished for the year now and it's been a busy one! It was great to speak at the national Palliative Care Australia and Asia Pacific Hospice conference "Together 2009" in Perth in October. Met some wonderful people from all over the world and was thrilled to be speaking about leadership and resilience to health professionals who are usually so focused on caring for others that they forget themselves!
Also had a great time at the inaugural Arts and Health Australia conference in Port Macquarie where I gave a keynote address on encouraging communities to talk about death and grief. This was a wonderful conference organised by the ever resourceful Margret Meagher and I was thrilled to win the inaugural Arts and Health Australia Award for Health Promotion.....very unexpected, but a great thrill!
Utopia International Retreat in Noosa was again a blast. I had the joy of being Master of Ceremonies as well as giving a keynote and running a workshop on working with grieving clients. It's amazing that people from the holistic, metaphysical and complementary therapies areas are sometimes not prepared for the depth of grief that clients carry with them when they come for a massage or an energy treatment. It was great working with these inspiring and experienced practitioners who openly embraced 'role play' exercises to practice their new skills as grief supporters!
I also did a bucketload of two day seminars for Ausmed all over the country this year. Perth, Adelaide, Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane on "Dealing with Disruptive Staff Behaviour", "End of Life Care", "Counselling in terminal illness", "Leading with emotional intelligence" and "Compassionate Management". It never ceases to amaze me the wealth of knowledge and experience we have in the health professions. I love doing these two day gigs 'cause it gives me an opportunity to engage with lots of health professionals, particularly nurses, who are so passionate about what they do, but often not supported by their organisations.
I truly believe that nurses need to re-engage with the inate spirit of nursing....the ability to connect on an intimate level with people at their most vulnerable. This is the craft of nursing and we sometimes forget that and hide behind the technology that has become such a part of the modern profession.....more on that another time!
Next year is shaping up to be just as exciting with lots of gigs booked already, so keep your eyes on my website to see where I'm speaking and when and lets have some more fun together!!
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Headgear to challenge the spring racing carnival!

2009-10-26T07:33:00.005+11:00

Making circlets at Utopia

2009-10-26T07:26:00.004+11:00

Utopia was about all sorts of things and I got to share my "elemental" self by running a "faerie circlet" making workshop during registration and boy was there some creative head gear made by people!

Utopia 2009....What a BLAST!!!

2009-10-26T07:21:00.002+11:00

Well Utopia 2009 lived up to all expectations. International speakers, ceremony, ritual, relaxation, creativity and some contemporary research. What a combination "> Over the coming weeks I'll be sharing snippets of the presentations from Utopia 2009 recorded during the course of the three days. The enormous investment of time, energy and financial support by Sue Coombes and Simone Matthews was evident from the outset. The co-creators of Utopia 2009 had left no detail to chance. The venue was decorated beautifully, the schedule was timely and the food and Saturday night concert amazing. The range of speakers on offer from Jeremy Donovan's inspiring presentation on Aboriginal spirituality and the moving closing ceremony he facilitated, assisted by Steven Farmer, to the practical use of personality trait identification and skill building that Mike White has developed for Aussie school kids to help them achieve academically. From Lia Scullen's amazing "Sounds of Sirius" channelling to Michelle Brennan's work photographing and analysing orbs. From Steven Farmers sharmanic meditation to Simone's presentation on fate and destiny. Jain 108 spoke of his love of maths (yes that's MATHS!) and sacred geometry, to Mz Marg Gill's presentation on building your business. It was all there...........and that was just the keynote addresses! The workshops were just as diverse and informative.

As I have told you previously, I was the Master of Ceremonies, a job I really enjoy and I must say, thanks to the wonderful team of volunteers, particularly Donna and Anne-Marie, my job was made so very easy.

The beauty of Utopia is that it grew from a vision Sue Coombes had to provide a place of retreat and learning for people interested in spirituality, complementary therapies, metaphysics and human evolution. Sue recruited a partner in Simone Matthews and together for the second year, they overcome stress, financial pressure and anxiety to share themselves and their passion with the presenters, the volunteers, the exhibitors and the attendees in a way that truly created a sacred space for everyone to do what it was that they had come for.

On a personal note, I met many old friends as well as new ones. I had an opportunity to talk about death and grief (which always makes me happy), I got to listen to some international experts and to nurture myself in the warmth and sun of Noosa. What a great way to spend a weekend!

Sincere thanks to all of the people who made Utopia 2009.............it was a blast!

9/9/09....does it make a forth 9 or is it 9/9/2009, therefore two 9's and one 11 and what does that mean anyway????

2009-09-09T12:36:00.003+10:00

Today being the 9th day of the 9th month in 2009, must mean something special, or does it? If you google the number "9" or today's date you will find a plethora of numerological information on the number nine and the universal impact of the nine energy. Nine represents compassion, love, service and morality. Nine is also the number that represents 'endings', whether that means death (in a physical sense) or death of some part of our lives that we have outgrown, it doesn't really matter, it's about completion. Completion of a task, completion of a mission or of a way of thinking. Now I'm no numerologist, in fact I have far more natural affinity with words than numbers, but the visual beauty of 090909 cannot be denied.

Some numerologists refer to today as being more influenced by 11 than 9. How do they come to this conclusion? Well they add 9+9+2+0+0+9. This is significant why? Because 11 is the master number, which means it is doubly powerful in its attributes of awareness, compassion and intuition. The number 11 is truly representative of the "Utopian" philosophy of equality, nurturing and service for the good of all.

In my view, today provides a wonderful opportunity for us to take a moment to reflect on the 'big picture'. What am I doing to serve my fellow man? What aspects of my life are not serving me well? What am I ready to let go of now? What can I do to build my sense of self worth? How can I show more true empathy and compassion to the people around me? How can I make the world a better place?

So it doesn't matter if you think numerology is a lot of baloney, the positive nine attributes are attributes we should all aspire to.............no matter what the date is. So maybe today is just a reminder to us to STOP, THINK and DO something of service to the people around us, and surely that is a good thing?

Farewell to my friend Patsi

2009-09-04T12:07:00.003+10:00

Those of us who work with dying and grieving people always try to work from a place of understanding and compassion, but it's not until someone WE love dies, that we remember the PAIN that death causes the people left behind. Last week I sat by the bedside of my dear friend Patsi Graham for the last two days of her life. It was Patsi who taught me about humility. Not because she talked about it, but because she lived it. Patsi was one of those gentle, loving people for whom nothing was ever too much trouble. She had a passion for life, for her husband Col and for her kids. She lived a life of service to others, to her friends, to the residents she cared for at the hostel, to anyone who needed a hand, but by no means was she sombre. She could party with the best of them.......and she did. She taught me to play the spoons, she introduced me to REAL Irish music (not the diddly dee stuff) and she had an infectious laugh that always resulted in tears.....the happy sort.
I could tell you a million things about my friend Patsi that made her special, but as I said, she was humble and so I'll leave you with her photo, which will tell you all you need to know.
When someone we love dies, it can often make us question ourselves, our beliefs and our purpose. What's it all about? What does life mean? What am I here for? My friend Patsi never spent much time navel gazing, she just got on and did whatever needed to be done to make the world a better place. Maybe this is what true philosophy is all about. Forget the big words and the prognostication. Maybe its as simple as listening to your heart and doing whatever it is that brings you joy, for after all joy is infectious and only comes from a place of genuine benevolence. If we are joyful and bring that joy into the lives of everyone we have contact with surely that's a life purpose?

What's Molly doing at Utopia International Retreat?

2009-08-14T15:27:00.003+10:00

Molly talking to the masses at Utpoia 2008.

Earlybird prices for Utopia International Retreat finish on August 31st, so get your act into gear and register for a life changing weekend of learning, healing, networking and fun! I'm acting as Master of Ceremonies again this year at Utopia, which I must say gives me an immense feeling of POWER! Being able to kick international speakers off the stage because their allocated time is over can be very fulfilling, although it can make you a little unpopular with the speakers. This year Utopia has brought together an amazing array of international speakers who will be covering a wide variety of topics over the weekend. I'm giving a plenary and conducting a workshop, but you'll need to listen to the interview I did with Mz Marg Gill to find out what it is I'm talking about.
For some fun and frivolity I'll also be doing a "circlet making" workshop on the Friday, so people will be able to make a headdress to wear for the duration of the weekend............nothing like bringing in the fairy energy to get the mischief happening!
Sue Coombes and Simone Matthews and others have invested an extraordinary amount of time, energy and money in putting Utopia together and ensuring that it provides a world class venue and program and I encourage you all to support the initiative. Utopia International Retreat provides an opportunity for you to network with like minded professionals from a broad range of disciplines, to learn cutting edge strategies for healing yourself, your clients and the planet and to relax and have fun in the beautiful natural environment of Noosa.
You can listen to the interview I did with Marg (before it even goes onto the Utopia website) ">by following this link . You can register for Utopia by clicking here I encourage you to subscribe to the Utopia Newsletter so you can keep up with breaking news on the event AND I hope to see you there on October 16-18th 2009!

Molly gets her Churchill medallion!

2009-08-14T15:06:00.000+10:00

Well I submitted my report and now the real work starts! I attended the Churchill Fellows Association of Victoria dinner on July 31st at Bayview Eden, where I was presented with my beautiful Churchill Fellow medallion! The medallion was designed and made by a previous Fellow and I must say I felt a little like an Olympic athlete, but thank goodness we weren't given a stuffed toy..........it was far more refined!
It was great to catch up with my "alumni", the other 2008 Fellows, most of whom have completed their travels and returned home. It was wonderful to hear about the projects that the 2009 Fellows are doing and I must say I was really impressed with the diversity of subjects, from green transport initiatives to supporting same sex attracted high school students........Winston would certainly be proud of the breadth of talent and enthusiasm we have here in Victoria.
Just a reminder to you all. If you feel passionate about something and you want to make a difference, seriously consider applying for a 2010 Fellowship. The time is right to start thinking about planning your submission NOW, so get off the couch and change the world!!!!! Type remaining message over this text.

The Churchill's over.......so what did I learn?

2009-07-29T14:38:00.000+10:00

It's important to remember that you learn things every day. Some things change your life, some things change how you think, feel and perform AND some things you learn are just useless bits of information that you didn't know before.
I was lucky to learn some life-changing things, some things that changed how I think and feel and a smattering of useless information along the way.

The big picture, philosophical stuff I used as the basis for the report I wrote for the Churchill Trust and so I won't share that with you here, (but if you would like a copy, feel free to flick me an email). NO, I'm going to share the kookie, surprising and useless information I learned, and maybe for one of you it could be life changing! So here we go.

- How to make Fried Green Tomatoes that make a "crunch" when you bit into them
- That in America they make the biggest "small" pizza's I've ever seen!
- That I make better Irish stew than I ate in Ireland (despite my kids referring to it as 'depression" food)
- That taxi drivers in London are a friendly bunch of chaps
- That the top graduation present for young women in Florida is not a new car, a watch or a gold pen, but............ "butt implants"...........yes, great chunks of silicone being implanted into their bottoms to make them BIGGER (this will never take off in Australia, we're too hung up about our bottoms being big as it is!)
- That racing pigeons are a resilient bunch of birds
- That people who were born in England get cross when you call them "British" not "English"
- That you could make a fortune in Dublin if you were an orthopaedic surgeon. (I must say this is an assumption based on the fact that I saw hundreds of people using walking sticks/crutches etc. who looked like they needed hip replacements)
- That I don't have a good understanding of what "zen" REALLY means!
- That there is something different about a baguette made in Paris
- That toilets really DO flush anti-clockwise on the other side of the equator
- That when you're away for a long time, you start saying "gidday" to people just so you can hear yourself say it!
- That you can get a suntan in Ireland even when the wind is so strong it could blow you to Tasmania!
- That I have caught the same disease as Elaine from Seinfeld.............an exclamation mark affliction!!!!!!!Just can't stop using them!!
- That when I haven't had a haircut for nearly three months I start to look like '70 keyboard aficionado, Rick Wakeman
- That blogging is cathartic and helps you remember the little things you would otherwise forget..........oh and it's much quicker than longhand.

and finally, as Dorothy once said, "There's no place like home"

Everybody's talking about Michael

2009-07-10T13:30:00.001+10:00

Michael Jackson is dead, Prince needs two hip replacements..........where does that leave me????? It's so strange how the death of someone famous polarises opinions. Michael Jackson's tragic death has had an astonishing impact on the world at large but I don't know quite HOW I feel! Like everyone else, I grew up with Jackson's signature "OOH HOO" blaring from the radio. I watched the launch of the "Thriller" film video and was astounded at that now much replicated dance sequence. But my first brush with Michael was when I was a student, living in a terrace house in Richmond with my friend Maureen and we would watch him singing "Blame it on the Boogie" on our crappy black and white T.V (we were students after all, we couldn't afford colour). I remember us both thinking how gorgeous he was in his dinner suit with his 'fro' and that ENORMOUS '80's bow tie, but then something happened.......he started to change.

By the time I watched him on telly with my own kids (little though they were they loved him too) he looked like a different person and it wasn't just his visual appearance, it was his whole persona. I must say I "went off" Michael just after the "Dangerous" album and felt far more excited by Prince, Bjork and others who were pushing the boundaries of "pop" by incorporating rap, jazz, coral and classical influences into their music. I guess I actually "went off" pop music per se, not that I'd ever really been someone who was into "Top 40's" music, but Michael had always been different.

So, by the time Michael died on June 25th, I rarely thought about him. All of the courtcases, the financial stories, the weird outbursts, the masked children etc. had drifted by me virtually unnoticed, I no longer had an "investment" in him. With this in mind, I was interested to observe my reaction to his death. Like most of the world, at first I couldn't believe it, I thought it was a hoax. Then, once confirmed, I like the rest of the world spent every waking hour for the next week watching Michael Jackson "tributes" on the telly, abusing the hosts for interrupting the music clips with their inane babble. I felt sad for his family and somewhat guilty for opinions I had expressed about him in latter years. I watched with interest the media "circus", the distraught fans, the impersonators and the community response to his death. I wondered at the outpouring of intense grief from people who had never known him personally, of kids who weren't even born when "Thriller" was released and it reinforced to me the whole concept of "centrality", of how we often associate a person with significant times in our lives.

For me Michael Jackson provided the soundtrack to my youth and therefore his death is a reinforcement to me that "those days are gone". I will never be able to recapture the excitement, the adrenaline, the anxiety, the angst of those years when I was evolving from a teenager to an adult and I guess Michael was one of the links that took me instantly back to the sights, sounds, tastes and feelings of those days. In a way his death represents the death of THAT PART of my life and therefore I am entitled to grieve for that loss. And this is what I've been witnessing on a global scale. Even for those who have never liked Michael's music, he was such a huge figure on the international stage, that there would be few people in the world who do not know of him and therefore it is likely that he represents to all of those people similar aspects of themselves as he has to me.

So Michael has died, as has my youth, however I realised the other day, I wasn't "grieving" in a personal sense. Yes, it's sad that he has died, but I felt more sad for him when he was alive, to be truthful. As far as the death of my youth, well there are just as many joys in the growing wisdom that (supposedly) comes with age, as there are joys in youth, or I think there is, but then unlike poor Prince, I don't need a hip replacement, so maybe I'm not qualified to comment yet. Maybe I'm just not old enough to have an opinion on ageing..........YET!

If Michael leaves an enduring legacy (apart from his catalogue of music) I hope that his death has required parents to talk to their kids about death and grief......to explain to them that death is a part of life and that it's OK to grieve for someone who you considered central to your life.........even if you have never met them.

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig

2009-06-28T12:57:00.000+10:00

When I left Melbourne, what seems like a lifetime ago, I don't remember the flight to Los Angeles being that long, but maybe that's because the couple I was sitting next to (who were doppelgangers of Laurie and Noelene Danaher from Sylvania Waters) kept ordering me brandy and cokes!

I must say at the start of the journey Noelene and Laurie were lifesavers as the airline staff seemed far too busy doing whatever it is they do in that little room with the blue separator curtain, to come and see if any of us in cattle class wanted anything! Thankfully Noelene and Laurie's diligence saved me the embarrassment of having to ring the call bell and face the wrath of a flight attendant who had been interrupted from her very important work in the little room with the curtain, by some worthless passenger. The problem occurred when I fell asleep. I don't know if N & L hadn't noticed my snoring or the fact that I was most probably grinding my teeth, but when I woke I found I had four brandy and cokes lined up on my tray table and given that I was in the window seat, this made a trip to the loo impossible until I had dispensed with the line-up of little plastic cups! In the end, I had to thank N & L most graciously for their hospitality, but requested that they cease and desist, so that I could ensure I wouldn't roll off the plane when we arrived at LAX.

No such problem on the way home! Again I was in the window seat, but sitting next to me was my beloved, who is just as apprehensive as I am about ringing the call bell unless there is an emergency, and a complete lack of any liquid refreshments doesn't qualify as such in our lexicon! So it was that by the time we had received our second tray of brown mushy goo, with hard bread roll and a salad that consisted of four lettuce leaves and half a cherry tomato, I thought, "That's it!" and rang the bell. After some time, the flight attendant stuck her head around the curtain, looked down towards me and disappeared again. After a few minutes, she was leaning over Phil, glaring at me "Yes?” I could feel the "now look what you've done, we'll be punished for this" vibes coming from Phil, who I expected to chime in at any minute and say "It wasn't me Miss, SHE rang the bell!!!" I took a big deep breath and asked her for a drink, she "tutted" and walked off, without thinking to ask Phil if he wanted one and I certainly wasn't going to call her back, God knows what would happen!

Eventually she came back with a plastic cup, filled to the brim. "Brandy and coke" she said as she flung it at me. I wanted to say "WHAT...........NO ICE????", but I didn't. I could feel Phil winding himself up to ask for a drink too, but by the time he got the courage to open his mouth, she was long gone, having disappeared again behind the blue curtain. I offered him a sip of mine, but he graciously turned me down, and sunk into his chair looking as dejected as a kid on Christmas morning who found potatoes in his stocking instead of presents. Where are Noelene and Laurie when you needed them?????

Our flight home wasn't all bad though, we flew through a marvellous lightening storm somewhere over Indonesia, but I didn't tell Phil, because I knew he watched far too many of those "Air Crash Investigation" shows to see the beauty of it. I also watched a great movie with Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson in it, though as usual I fell asleep before the end, so don't know if they ended up getting together or if it finished like "An Affair to Remember" with Emma Thompson in a wheelchair pretending she was fine, some years later.

By the time we reached Melbourne I was in a heightened state of anticipation. From the moment I'd booked my tickets before Christmas last year, I had pictured myself walking through the big glass doors at Tullamarine, wheeling a trolley weighed down with suitcases and duty-free plastic bags, into the arms of my adoring family and friends, just like in the opening sequence of "Love Actually" (without the Hugh Grant voiceover obviously............though that would be nice). I had replayed this snippet in my mind a million times. When I was marooned on the windswept and lonely station at Castle Cary, this was the picture that kept me warm. When I was sitting in my lonely room during the disappointing overnight stay at a particular hostel in America, this was the picture that made me feel safe. When I stood in the aisle at Notre Dame overwhelmed by the inspirational spiritual energy of the place, this was the picture that kept me grounded. So you will understand, I'd built this scene to a crescendo..........and now I was on the brink of experiencing it. OOOHHHHH!!!

We arrived safe and sound and moved effortlessly through Customs and Immigration..wow, it felt good to hear the friendly voices of my fellow Aussies asking me about the contents of my bag and welcoming me home. I must say I found the electronic “Swine Flu Temperature Detector” tunnel I had to walk through a little confronting, but thankfully despite my long sojourn away from home I didn’t trip off the siren and flashing lights. This must be the first time in my life I was REALLY glad not to be considered “Hot”!

Finally as I approached the big glass doors, trolley weighed down with suitcases and duty-free plastic bags, my beloved at my side, everything was going according to plan. The doors opened and we walked through to……….nothing. No cheers and squeals of delight from adoring fans, no Craig Armstrong piano soundtrack, no “Welcome Home Molly” signs………….NOTHING!

I looked around in desperation and then from the corner of my eye I saw a blur of movement. As we rounded the corner of the barricades, I was almost bowled over by a cute little dot, flowers in hand, who threw her arms around me and said, “Mummy, you’re finally home”. Two more arms encircled me, this time strong male arms, “We sure missed you Moll”. Em and Johnny were my welcoming party, my daughter and her beloved, both so happy, both so excited and then I realised that what Hugh Grant said is right, it doesn’t matter how many people are in the arrivals lounge at the airport, what matters is the feeling they bring with them and at that moment I knew “Love really is……. all around”

Back to Dublin

2009-06-26T10:18:00.000+10:00

After our amazing journey of discovery around the wilds of "the west", Phil and I returned to Dublin for our last night with Michael and Craig. Of course they greeted us with with rapturous warmth and were eager to hear of our adventures in the wild parts of Ireland. How do you condense such an emotionally charged, physically stimulating and spiritually challenging week into words that do it justice............of course you can't, but really, Michael and Craig "got it" without us having to say much at all. It is wonderful to spend time with like minded souls who don't need things "spelt out" to them, but can connect with the energy you emanate and understand.

Our final night in Dublin, was appropriately spent "at the pub", where Phil and I finally succomed and tried our first taste of Guinness. At the risk of losing all credibility I may have earned to date, I must confess, one sip did it for me (and not in the way you may expect). I've got to say it tasted like an amalgam of the cold, dark water of Doo Lough, the smell of the muddy bogs and the creamy foam of the treacherous waves at the base of the Cliffs of Moher................most appropriate, but not quite as appetising for me as a nice, crisp, clear Pino Grigio. In fact to be perfectly honest it tasted bloody awful, but there you go, maybe my Irish heritage was missing that vital ingredient that would ignite in me a passion for a drink that everyone else seems to think is the "nectar of the gods". So I stuck with my wine and revelled in my "Aussieness", which some may also say is lacking, given that I simply can't come at beer either!

We finished our evening with a beautiful meal at a little restaurant that provided snuggly blankets over the back of the chairs in the outdoor eating area............brilliant!!!

It was with sadness (but excitement too) that I attempted to stuff two plus months worth of travelling into my suitcase late that night. So much experience, so many miles, so many countries, so many new friends, so many memories, SO MANY STORIES!

And the journey continues for just a little longer.

Some really pretty landscape pictures

2009-06-24T20:03:00.000+10:00

No words, just pics! Words are not required when you are in the midst of landscapes like this!

Where's Wally?????

2009-06-24T19:10:00.000+10:00

See if you can spot the "Wally's" on the edge of the cliffs .

A selection of cemeteries, castles. and old churches

2009-06-24T17:50:00.001+10:00

Cemeteries and churches have always been my thing (along with castles and ruins of all sorts) I've always had a fixation about old churches, castles, cemeteries and memorials, both intentional and accidental. I don't know why, but I think it allows me to connect somehow with the people who have walked a similar path to me and who have experience to share. I have always found it sad and frustrating that we (as a society) don't connect to the wealth of wisdom that surrounds us on a daily basis. We lock up our elders in aged care facilities and forget them and yet when they die, we sensationalise their lives and speak of them as if they were saints. We forget that they were normal people like us with the same faults and foibles. We miss the opportunity to learn from their hard earned wisdom.

And so, I hang around in falling down churches and cemeteries where I can see, hear and feel the stories of my elders, my ancestors. If only we could collectively open our eyes, our ears and our hearts on a daily basis and connect with the wisdom and experience of those older people in our community NOW, before the opportunity is lost and we find ourselves hoping that we can connect to the spirit of those who have preceded us by traipsing around the ruins that represent lives lived long ago. Mind you, I've got to say, I find great comfort in those old places. Listening to the voices, reading the stories and feeling the presence of people long gone. I only hope that one day, in the distant future, someone will sit by my grave and wonder who I was............ and that I will be able to leave some sort of imprint on their life as those who have gone before have left on me.

More of Moher

2009-06-24T17:43:00.000+10:00

Some more photos of the Cliffs of Moher including a mate I made along the way!

The beauty...............!

2009-06-24T17:28:00.000+10:00

The beauty of the Irish countryside needs no written augmentation by me. You can see for yourself the majesty of the Cliffs of Moher, Co Clare from these photos and will understand why there are security people all over the place to make sure that clumsy antipodean visitors (Wally's) don't loose their footing and end up "in the drink"!

The ancient Ireland, I loved!

2009-06-24T10:32:00.000+10:00

There is an ancientness about Ireland that not only resides in the people, the stories and the music, but that is embedded in the rocks, the hills, the lakes and rivers.........an ancientness I was drawn to and immersed myself in. I'd always wanted to connect with the ancientness of Ireland, where myth, legend and reality merge. I was so lucky to spend time on my own at some of the really ancient places, places where people worshipped gods now long forgotten, places where the Irish Christians performed rituals of praise and intercession, places where ancient feet had walked before the dawn of time.

This journey for me has taken me to many ancient places, across three continents, but I've always had a deep seated connection to the old ones who walked the hills and valleys before the coming of the Celts, Gaels, Angles and Saxons. The Tuatha de Dannaan (the people of Dana), the Firbolgs, the Fianna were all known to me. In some weird way, from the time I was very young, these stories rang true. I have always had an affinity with the invisible world, from which (in my view) we are separated by such a thin veil that movement between the parallels can often happen with very little effort. Now some of you will think "Oh my goodness, she's really lost it now!", however my visit to Ireland and particularly to rural Ireland, merely served to reinforce this long held understanding.

I won't totally freak out those of you for whom this doesn't resonate, suffice to say, I was not in the least disappointed by the "old ones" who made their presence very clearly known to me as I walked around the ancient stone circles, sat amid ancient trees in ancient forests and put my feet into the clear waters of ancient lakes and rivers. Instead I'll load some photos for you of some of these places and hope that you too may see or feel the presence of these ancient ones.

The sadness..................

2009-06-24T08:38:00.000+10:00

I've told you about the joy embedded in the landscape and people of Ireland, now I need to tell you about the polar opposite, an all pervading feeling that is just as powerful........... the sadness. There is a sense of melancholy if you scratch the surface in Dublin. The "Celtic Tiger" that held so much promise of a better life, has been caged by the GFC (Global Financial Crisis), before it could truly roar. Cranes are being pulled down, the unemployment rate has leaped to 12%, government appointments have been frozen and the optimism that a few years ago was pushing the economy along, has all but gone (or so I was told by all of the cab drivers I spoke to, and these are the guys who know). Despite all of this, the Irish people I met, still have a aura of "it can only get better" about them and I guess this is because their history is painted with shattered dreams.

I had read much about the terrible famine of 1845-1850 that resulted in half of the Irish population either dying from starvation or emigrating to America, Australia, Canada and other "new world" countries in search of a better life. I thought I was prepared for the mark that this (and all of the other assaults that had been made on the country throughout it's history) would have made on the landscape of the country, but my first encounters in Dublin took me by surprise. The Famine Memorial on the banks of the Liffey, is one of the most poignant memorials I have ever seen. The sculptures of starving people, dressed in rags wandering aimlessly along the river make your heart ache (or they did mine). I had the same feeling when I visited Kilmainham Prison, originally a debtor's prison where you can still see records of people (including children) imprisoned for stealing food to survive. This is also where the republican heroes of the 1798, 1803, 1848, 1867 and 1915 uprisings were imprisoned (and many of them executed). The last prisoner to be released from here before the prison was finally closed in 1924 was Eamon de Valera, who later became president of the republic.

I always find old prisons sad and melancholy places but believe we need to remind ourselves of how previous generations struggled to create a better life for us, no matter where we are from.

Once on the open road, Phil and I travelled through much lush and fertile land. The stuff of myth, the green rolling hills of the "emerald isle", but then as we headed north west the landscape changed and with it the energy of the place. We travelled through progressively more rugged, desolate and cold landscapes covered in huge boulders, rocks and mountains. The lakes were huge, cold and black. The air was thick with melancholy as we drove from Delphi thru the Doo Lough Valley, the landscape telling the story of the 600 starving people who had walked this path from Louisburgh to Delphi Lodge in 1849, hoping to get some food from their landlord, only to be turned away. On the walk back 200 people died of starvation and exhaustion along the way and the spirits of those poor souls are tangible as you sit on the rocks by the freezing water of the lough, looking towards the black clouds encasing the mountains. There is a sadness here that makes your heart feel as heavy as the boulders that lie all around. This is a harsh and unforgiving land. It is cold, dark and lonely. I can't imagine how those remaining poor people didn't simply die from the despair that must have enveloped them as they walked this path amid friends and relatives who died one by one alongside them. Phil and I stayed here for some time, lost in our own thoughts. For me, I just let my heart ache and hoped that in some way the souls of those starving victims of an unjust world, may gain some small comfort from my remembering them. Before we left we both placed a small rock at the base of the Memorial Cross at the side of the road, alongside the rocks placed there by other travellers who had driven this dark path (by design or by accident) and who, like us, had felt moved to leave a little piece of something to acknowledge the power of the place and the strength of the people.

There are lots of monuments in Ireland to the victims of war and famine, not least of which is the amazing "Coffin Ship" sculpture at the foot of Croach Patrick, that commemorates the thousands of starving people who embarked on long, treacherous journeys over the sea in search of a better life in the mid 1800's when the famine was at its height. But for me, the most poignant memorials are the multiple deserted stone cottages that sit in this lonely landscape as stark reminders of the pain and hopelessness of the people who once lived there. Broken down, no rooves, ivy creeping in between the stones that once made up the walls that protected the family who lived within. It's not hard to imagine the desperation these people must have felt as they closed the door to their haven and took to the road hoping to find redemption from their hunger. Such a sad reminder of the invisibility of the poor, something we in the western world still seem to maintain to this day.

The Connemara Giant and other of "Joyce's" antiquities

2009-06-24T08:32:00.000+10:00

The Irish have a great sense of humour and I can't help but think this is the root of our Australian sense of irony and satire. Phil and I stumbled over the Connemara Giant and a couple of other pseudo antiquities when travelling through Joyce Country, Connemara

Getting "jiggy with it"

2009-06-23T16:48:00.000+10:00

Saw a fantastic band led by Michael O'Brien an extraordinary accordion player while in Kenmare and stayed at a great pub called Foley's. Check it out! Anyone interested in finding out more about Michael or accessing a CD, just follow the link.

So, lets start with the JOY.

2009-06-22T19:37:00.000+10:00

Irish people sure know how to have fun................and some of them have a "smidgen" too much! We experienced joy in many places, some expected (particularly when we were with Michael and Craig), some unexpected, and I think I'll start with this. We arrived in Clifden after a very long day and checked into the wonderful B & B we had booked. We were greeted by Julia and Paddy (picture attached), a lovely couple for whom nothing was too much trouble. Their place is an eccentric blend of lovely furnishings and antiques mixed with goat horns, stuffed fish, animal skins and old paintings. They put on a marvellous breakfast and the day we were leaving (because we needed to leave very early), Paddy even put together a breakfast pack for us to have in our room! A most homely, comfortable and welcoming place to stay, right on the water.........we were sorry we couldn't hang around longer, but will certainly return at some time in the future! Anyhow, we arrived tired and thirsty and headed into town.
It was "roastin" as the Irish would say (which means it was about 20 degrees C) and so we grabbed a wine and sat outside the pub in the main square in the town, enjoying the sun (and very soon the floor show). I predicate what I'm about to say by reminding you that in Irish terms it had been a hot day, which meant that most people in town had endured a terrible thirst though out the day and so as soon as they landed at the pub they got "stuck into it", so to speak. So Phil and I were sitting at our table and a man dressed like Elvis in black leather pants, black shirt and black leather jacket with a black afro walked up to us constantly mumbling the "F" word (and I don't mean FUDGE or FRICK or even FESTOON). Phil immediately christened him "Black Elvis", because he was perfectly decked out as 1967 thin, black leathers, acoustic Elvis (as opposed to the 1970's fat, white bejewelled jumpsuited, Las Vegas Elvis). "Black Elvis walked right up to us and just stood and stared for a minute (long enough to make us feel really awkward) and then he wandered off and sat down on a bench by the road.
Before we could say a word, an old fella wandered over in suit pants and a jacket, scarf and hat. He'd obviously had a huge thirst and had been at quenching it most of the day, and still wasn't there as he had a full pint of Guinness in his hand, well it was full when he walked out of the pub, but by the time he'd sat down half of it was running down the back of a young guy who'd just got back from the surf with his mates and was hoeing into a big plate of snags and mash. The water must have been really cold as he didn't seem to notice the half a pint that had just been spilt on him, in fact he didn't seem to draw breath until the old fella sat at the next table and tried to engage him in a conversation. Now I don't blame the young surfer, because the old fella wasn't making much sense and I don't know if that's because he was speaking Irish or as a consequence of his terrible thirst or because he had very few teeth, but the young guy just looked at him and nodded and went back to his sausages.

Next thing the old fella started to talk to what I can only describe as an "invisible dog". He talked to it, he patted it and when he stood up to go and get a refill, he pulled on it's lead and took it with him. Now I've watched "Darby O'Gill and the Little People" a million times so I know the sport that the faerie folk can have with people (especially those who have had a few "sherbets"), but the invisible dog had drawn the attention of "Black Elvis" and now he was struggling up from the bench he was sitting on and staggering towards the old fella with the invisible dog. "This could be ugly" I thought.

While all of this was going on, four middle aged guys who had just knocked off work came and sat at the table next to us. They were a jolly lot! From the time they sat down they were talking and laughing and telling jokes. They were on their second round of drinks when one of them said to his extremely fair skinned, balding, red haired mate something about the fact that he was becoming progressively redder and if he wasn't careful he'd end up looking like a "suckling pig" to which they all laughed heartily and one of the four threw "Blue" a tube of sunscreen. As he went to put some on his hand, the 'stirrer' to his right gave the tube a good squeeze and half the tube of sunscreen ended up in "Blue's" hand to which they all roared laughing (including "Blue"). Not at all daunted Blue proceeded to rub his hands together and then smear about 100 mls of zinc consistency sunscreeen all over his face and head, to which they all roared laughing, including Blue who couldn't open his eyes as they were covered in sunscreen. At the same time, "Invisible dog" man had returned to his seat and was trying to light a cigarette which was shaped like an "s" bend (not from design), but quickly one of the surfers came to his rescue, lighting one of his own ciggies and handing it to him saying something in German, to which "Invisible dog" man answered in a language I still didn't understand.

Before I could look across and check on "Blue's" progress rubbing in the truckload of sunscreen (though he was obviously still persisting in trying to rub it into his pink, crispy skin as his mates were still throwing one-liners at him to which they all roared laughing, including "Blue"), Phil said, "Oh God, there's an accident waiting to happen, look at "Billy Connolly over there". I turned and followed his gaze to see a man (who looked very like Billy, but couldn't have been cause we'd seen him the day before fly fishing at Ashford Castle, or so I thought) staggering along the side of the road, one step forward, three steps back. He had obviously had a ferocious thirst as well and had done his level best to quench it, for most of the day. I got myself ready to fly off my chair if need be (the burden of being a nurse), when Billy performed a Monty Pythonesque "silly walk" and u-turned on the spot and fell against a statue of a local identity (who I'm sure wouldn't have expected his bronze effigy would be holding up a Scottish comedian look-a-like 150 years on). "Phew" Billy was safe for the time being!

Next thing I know "Blue" looks straight at me and says "Have I rubbed it all in darlin?", to which the gang all roars laughing. "Yep", I said, "It's all rubbed in, now you're all shiny". To which they all roar laughing. Invisible Dog man mumbled something to his invisible dog, patted it on the head and tried to light another cigarette. Black Elvis walked past the jolly men and said the "F" word to them five times in a row, to which they all roared laughing. I looked over towards Billy to make sure he hadn't moved, but he was gone. "Where's Billy gone?" I asked Phil. "I don't know, I didn't see him move, maybe he's gone back to Ashford Castle to do some more fishing!" and we both roared laughing!

Phil and I finished our drinks (this was our first and only drink we had there I must say, so all of the above happened in the time it took us to drink a glass of wine each). We deciding we'd had far too much excitement for one day and went to head off down the street for dinner when Blue yelled out to me, "You're beautiful darlin, beautiful! You don't deserve her" he said to Phil, and I roared laughing.

Now you may think I made this all up and that's fine, but I edited this episode, because I didn't include our encounter with skinny Dawn French, the exit of "Black Elvis", the departure of the German surfers or the return of "Billy". I will say we had a lovely dinner and were thankful on behalf of all of the characters we met at the pub that the next day was cold and rained long and hard so they all had a chance to recover from the "roastin" of the day before.

Trying to tell the story

2009-06-22T16:44:00.000+10:00

Trying to share my experiences with you without writing a novel is difficult, but here I go! I didn't want to give you a "blow by blow" travelogue of Ireland (or of England, Paris or the U.S for that matter) and I hope I've managed to avoid that, but if you're after that, go to a Pilot Guide or Lonely Planet. If you want a travelogue with lots of laughs, read Pete McCarthy's "McCarthy's Bar" (which my friend Glenny kindly presented me with before I left Bath, and I'd read in three days it was that good), but you won't get any of that from me. You'll get some personal insights, some observations, some gentle irony and hopefully a laugh or two along the way. We saw far too much and went to far too many places on our week long road trip for me to tell you about them all...........after all we covered 1600 km in a week and still we skipped places we really wanted to visit, but that's the sacrifice you make when you want to truly experience a place. I'd rather have done select places on the west coast well, than have done it ALL and not experienced any of it! I'm really not one for ticking off places on a map, just so i can say I've been there, when "being there" means driving past and taking a photo out the window of the car. I want to get out and sink my boots in the mud or the sand and trip over rocks and stand on the edge of cliffs and get wet and cold and dirty and feel the place and hear the sounds and see the hidden things.......SO that's what we did!

So I've agonised about how to report all of this to you and after long reflection I've decided to talk about places by the impact they had on me personally. I can't say if Phil felt exactly the same way (though at times I felt him in exactly the same emotional space as me, particularly when we were in places that tore at our hearts, or made us laugh out loud), but then this is MY blog, so you'll get MY feelings and that will have to do!

Ancient places and old souls

2009-06-22T15:36:00.000+10:00

After eight weeks away on my own I was finally joined by my beloved to head "Into the west" and explore the ancient and magic places. It was with great excitement and some trepidation that I headed to Dublin airport to meet Phil who had flown in on the 'red eye' from Melbourne. Eight weeks was a long time to be apart and I hoped he remembered what I looked like! Of course, HE DID and we picked up a hire car and headed to the west coast to explore some of the wild places of Ireland (of course after he'd had a decent night's sleep).

Not many men, after 26 hours on a plane would look at the prospect of a week of traipsing through "bogs", ancient castles and graveyards as fun, but I chose well all those years ago, and despite Phil doing all the driving, he never once complained when I yelled "STOP" yet again, so I could walk around an old abandoned thatched farm house. We started our epic journey travelling from Dublin to Cork (the epic part was actually finding our way OUT of Dublin), once on the highway, we settled down and enjoyed the scenery, the mutually stimulating conversation and the little villages we drove through.

En route to Cork we stopped at the Rock of Cashell which to my great delight (and please forgive my ignorance), wasn't just a rock at all, but an amazing castle/ cathedral that sits on top of a huge granite outcrop. It is said St Patrick baptised a whole pile of converts here and there is an enormous cross in the forecourt that was supposedly erected in his honour. I won't ramble on about the history of the "rock" (as I've attached a link here for you) but what I want to tell you about is the "vibe" of the place.

This was the first ancient ruin we visited that held the echo's of ancient souls. I spent ages wandering around the old cemetery (which was to become a pattern of mine, but Phil is used to this), just looking at the old headstones and listening to the sad laments of the birds that nested in the ruins. The cold wind was blowing, the sun struggling to find it's way out from behind the black clouds and the shadow of the castle made eerie patterns on the headstones, but the rugged beauty of the place made me feel quite at home. There was a gentle melancholy about it that was almost comforting. Bizarre really, as I generally find sad places quite disconcerting, however here I felt peaceful and time just seemed to stop. I felt like I was connected to the land somehow, that I was walking on paths that were well worn, but that my steps were making new and different impressions. This was the beginning for me of a real journey of discovery and the "Rock of Cashel" was my gentle "easing in" to the sad and lonely places we were to visit over the coming days.

Newgrange, Our Lady's Hospice and the Irish Palliative Care Association

2009-06-22T14:13:00.000+10:00

Visiting New Grange and then Our Lady's Hospice seems a bit of a weird combination to report on together, but read on and you'll get the link! I put some photos of Monasterboice (Co Meath) onto the last entry so you could see one of the most ancient round towers and large cross monuments in Ireland. The monastery was founded in the 5th Century AD by St Buithe and boasts two incredibly well preserved Celtic high crosses depicting biblical scenes designed for the spiritual inspiration of the local people, who couldn't read. Have a look at the attached link to find out some more about it's history, but I must say, walking around the ancient cemetery, dominated by these huge, beautifully carved crosses was spiritually inspiring for a 21 century Aussie who CAN read, so I can't imagine how awe inspiring they would have been for the simple folk of the 5th C!

I also visited Newgrange with my friend Michael while I was in County Meath. Going from Monasterboice (5th C) to New Grange (3200B.C) was like travelling from Star Wars to Middle Earth. In fact I felt a little like I had jumped into the Tardis, changed the dial and arrived in a different world. This huge Megalithic passage tomb was constructed 5000 years ago and the ingenious drystone construction that enables the structure to hold up great boulders that were transported from miles away from the site is amazing. The huge structure acted as a religious site, burial site and calendar with it's famous "roof box" that on the winter solstice allows the sun to penetrate the full length of the passage into the central tomb, being proof of the skill of it's creators. Older than Stonehenge and the Pyramid of Giza, Newgrange is a must see! Michael and I walked thru the narrow passage crouched over like hobbits until we reached the central chamber which was large, cool and beautifully decorated with megalithic carvings. Although gently illuminated in order to allow visitors to enter safely, when the lights are turned out, there is an amazing atmosphere within the chamber, complete silence and complete blackness...........it feels like being within a void and the energy retained in the stones is palpable.

So what's the link with Our Lady's Hospice? Well I'm going to draw a pretty long bow, but here goes. Newgrange was built as a site of ritual spiritual practice by the ancients, Our Lady's Hospice was established by the Sister's of Charity in 1879 (the Sister's having been founded in 1815 in Dublin by Mary Aitkenhead) in direct response to the overwhelming needs of the poor, who were predominantly excluded from spiritual and physical care. So the ancients and the Sisters both created places of spiritual and physical nurturing, based on their particular belief systems......and that's as close as I can get to a segue!

At Our Lady's I was treated to a tour around the hospice, the old hospital and the chapel as well as the very impressive Education and Research Centre presided over by Phil Larkin, Professor of Palliative Care Nursing. Phil and I had much in common and spent quite some time comparing notes regarding clinical practice, education, research and health promotion. He also showed me around the wonderful library they have on site, which is a great resource for those studying at the centre and the fantastic lecture theatre (which I assured him would be a wonderful performance space for ..........a play perhaps?????????)

I was also very lucky to join the meeting of the Executive Committee of the Irish Palliative Care Association, which enabled me to meet a group of very motivated, passionate and welcoming palliative care practitioners and managers who were very generous in allowing me to sit in on their meeting.

And so the official component of my visit to Ireland ended, but my learning had just begun.

Into the wilds of Ireland I went .................

2009-06-22T11:53:00.000+10:00

People die everywhere and Ireland is no exception, in fact they've been dying there for a very long time, so they should know how to do it well! I spent quite some time with the palliative care teams at Drogheda and Cavan. I must say I didn't see Rachael Ward or Richard Chamberlain frolicking in the hay in Drogheda, nor did I see John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara canoodling on a stone bridge, though I did see the VERY bridge on which said canoodling occurred.

Firstly to Drogheda I went, where the team made me feel most welcome. I sat in on their weekly meeting and was interested to hear that the problems their patients are confronting are very similar to those problems faced by patients at home. Of course there's the usual physical symptom management stuff, but as always it seemed to be the psycho-social and spiritual issues that the patients were struggling with the most. The more I've travelled, the more I've understood that as death approaches, for most patients the fears around how, when and where they will die and with whom are the issues that prey on their minds. In Ireland as in all the countries I have visited, the problems associated with trying to keep patients in their homes (when that is where they want to be) are similar. Who can care for them at home if they don't have family or friends capable or willing to do so? What happens if they are on their own and the nearest clinical support is over an hour away? Who makes sure they have what they need when the palliative care service and/or public health nurse can only visit once or twice a week? Who is there to listen to their stories, fears and concerns when they are ready to talk about them (not when it suits us, but when it suits the person)?

I always thought that the Irish had a far healthier view of death and grief then we in "the colonies", after all people have died from war, famine and poverty in Ireland since the dawn of time. I listened to the stories of my parents and grandparents as a child and as I grew I read widely about Celtic and Gaelic culture and traditions. I felt that I had a relatively good understanding of Irish superstition, the "wail of the Banshee" that can be heard as the dying person breathes their last, "the Coshta-Bower" or Death Coach, drawn by the six black horses and driven by the head-less Dullahan (or death herald) that cannot be turned back once it sets out to "collect" a person for transporting to the "other world", the stopping of all clocks at the moment the person dies, the covering of mirrors with black velvet and so on. I always felt that the tradition of the person remaining in their home after their death, to enable friends and neighbors to visit and pay their respects a far healthier practice for all concerned, than our modern habit of shipping them off to the funeral director as soon as possible. I remember my Dad telling me that when he was a kid in the Mallee district of Victoria, it was common for people to be "laid out" in the front room and all of the local families would come to express their support to the grieving family and say goodbye to the deceased person. This also involved toasting the person who had died with a few "sherbets", telling stories about them and singing the "sad" songs that went along with grief............ Laughter and tears. This also meant that the kids would be able to see the dead person, touch their skin and understand how death looks and feels.

I was interested to see if my preconceived notions about the influence of Christianity on the way Irish people deal with death, discuss death and mourn and comfort each other after death were accurate. I wanted to know if wailing and keening helped people to express their grief in a healthy way and if strong community networks made bereavement less isolating for grieving people. I wanted to know if those traditions we had "let go of" (in our rush to leave behind the "old ways" and embrace the new) were still practiced and if so, what impact did that have on how kids understand death. Of course I knew I wouldn't find definitive answers to these big questions in a couple of days, but I was optimistic that I could get a "feel" for how Irish people deal with death and whether their approach differs very much from how we in "modern" Australia do it.

And so I ventured out on some visits with the lovely Maureen. I must say she was a font of information. We discussed everything from Gaelic Football to religion to politics. I gained a real insight into how difficult community palliative care is in rural Ireland. I didn't understand until I spent the day with Maureen how very far they have to travel to visit patients. There was no stop and have "a cuppa", because it took over an hour to get to the first patient. An hour on skinny roads with confusing signage (if any) and even she wasn't sure how to find one patient, so had to ring the office for directions, which, with her permission I reproduce here, "Go down the Church road to the corner, turn right at the rock and go along past the big tree for about ten minutes, then turn left and you're there" Thank God I wasn't driving that's all I can say, because there's no way I would have found the place!

I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to visit patients and of course, confidentiality prohibits me from telling you anything about the people I visited, but I can tell you, they were all so grateful for the visit they received from the palliative care service. They all "passed the time of day" and exchanged pleasantries with me and I felt somewhat helpless to contribute anything other than polite "chit chat" as I was an outsider. Not only did I come from a distant land, but despite my years as a clinician I realised very quickly that my understanding of the cultural influences on their dying excluded me from contributing anything meaningful to their care. Not only this, but with some of the patients, I had no way of understanding what it was they were saying, their accents were so broad (and I guess they felt the same way about me). I did however, as I shook hands with each of them feel that wonderful human connection that unites us all and held that moment of empathy and understanding that needs no words, no action, just that space of hearts and eyes connecting and becoming one..............and in that space all of our differences were irrelevant. Maybe this is something we all need to remember.?

From Moet to Guinness and a game of Gaelic football!

2009-06-15T08:53:00.000+10:00

Leaving the warm sun and ambiance of Paris to cross the sea to the green hills and the cold water of the Liffey I was so excited to arrive in the country of my ancestors, Listons, Loneys and Murphys (in addition to Brennans, Kellys and any other Irish name you can mention). I must admit I was shocked to find a clear sky, light breeze and a temperature in the high teens, in fact the first two days I added to my English and Parisian tan! I began to wonder what everyone was going on about. The old saying that it rains 70% of the time and the other 30% it drips off the trees must be a furphy, I thought. The Irish have made it up to discourage ancestor searching antipodeans from migrating back "home". I wandered around Dublin in a teeshirt (oh, don't get excited, I had jeans on too!). I sat at outside cafes sipping on Aussie sav blanc and reading the paper...........all very civilised! No pelting rain, no bone chilling wind, no black SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) inducing clouds, in fact kids were swimming in the canal and we had an outside barbie for dinner two nights in a row!

I must say though, I did find the first couple of long days a bit disorientating. It's bizarre to be sitting outside having a coffee at 10pm with the sun only just starting to descend behind the U2 factory across the water. It just doesn't start to get dark till about 11pm.........wonderful if you're on holidays, but a bit of a trap when you have to work the next day!

I will tell you about the wonderful visits I had with Michael and his teams at Drogheda and Cavan in my next installment, but before you pack your bags ready to immigrate to Ireland, I'll tell you about my first Saturday in Dublin.

We headed off into town to have brunch and do some shopping. After a great "feed" I left Michael and Craig to go to the barber and headed down Grafton Street, to have a 'shop' and then 'get me some cultcha' by visiting Trinity College. I saw the "Book of Kells" (amazingly I got to stand in front of the book for a good five minutes before being elbowed out of the way by a rather 'large' American lady). I saw the harp of Brian Boru and even found out that Oscar Wilde lived in "Botany Bay" (not the one in Sydney, but an area in Trinity where the old Botany building used to be).......all very inspiring, but the weather...........

It started to spit rain early in the morning, but by the time I got to Trinity it was raining "cats and dogs", blowing a gale and FREEZING cold (mind you the locals were all saying it was a 'soft' day after a week that was 'roastin'). I tell you, give me 'roastin' any day!

On my walk home I passed rubbish bin after rubbish bin filled with umbrellas that had been blown inside out, others were lying against bridges and fences where they had ended up after being torn from some poor freezing person's hand and blowing down the road. I don't think I've ever been so cold, wet and educated all in a single day!

The next day was just as cold, wet and miserable, and in good Melbourne fashion......I went to the footy! My first Gaelic football game, preceded by an incredibly violent game of 'hurling'. Both codes fielded Dublin teams, "The Dubs", so of course, given I was staying in Dublin, I barracked for them (even though their colors were dark and light blue, not black and white). "The Dubs" won both games and I'm not sure if this is because they're just a good team or because of the eager cheering of a little fella sitting in front of me, clothed in the two blue's and constantly yelling "Cum en Dubelyn, cum en ye good boys" OR because they KNEW that every time I go to the footy at home, I come away disappointed by "the Maggies" and they didn't want to let me down too!

Either way, Dublin won and everyone was happy (except of course their opponents) and then it was time to go across to the pub (with the other 78,000 people who were at the footy) and stand in a que for 1/2 hour to get a brandy, hoping that it would thaw out my hands and return the circulation to my 'nether regions' as I hadn't been able to feel my bottom since half time! All in all a grand day and to finish it off beautifully, as I stood in the beer garden with Michael, Craig and a whole crew of their mates, the sun came out, the wind dropped, the rain had long stopped and I thought........"This weather isn't too bad, actually it's a bit like Melbourne!"

Getting my catholic "fix"

2009-06-15T08:33:00.000+10:00

Having been to so many Anglican Church services in England, I made up for it by going to Mass in every Catholic Church in Paris..........well almost! I KNOW..........I am prone to an occasional exaggeration, but I DID go to Mass at Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur and also visited Sainte Chappelle (just for fun!). Those of you who are "micks" will not need "going to Mass" described in detail, I'm sure, and those of you who aren't Catholics, probably won't care, so I'll not ramble on about the continuation of my spiritual pilgrimage, but I WILL post some extraordinary photos of the above mentioned churches and hope that they may inspire you to reflect on what it is that makes YOU feel connected to your spiritual selves. For me? You can't beat ornate vestments, frankincense, candles, quiet and lead light windows........no matter where, when or which denomination!

An Eiffel picnic

2009-06-15T08:09:00.000+10:00

After a wondrous day exploring Paris, Michael, Craig and I had an evening picnic! I always thought the Eiffel Tower was big, but had no idea how REALLY big it is. When you sit in the enormous park looking up at this wonderful structure, it's hard to imagine that it was originally only a temporary installation for the world exhibition in the 19th century, but it very quickly became loved by Parisians and they wouldn't let it be demolished.......thank goodness. Having shopped in the morning at the Bastille Market and kitting ourselves out with fresh baguettes, terrine, chicken, pate, quiche, a plum tart and of course lashings of French champagne, Michael, Craig and I headed (via the Louvre) to the gardens and settled ourselves in to watch the sun set behind the tower. As dusk approached and the gardens filled with families and young uni students (all equally well equipped with food and liquid refreshments), we watched with joy as the flashing lights came on illuminating the tower from top to bottom (to the cheers of the crowd).

After scoffing our delightful picnic, Craig talked me into going to the top of the tower on the lift. I must say, I was well "lubricated" by this time, so I thought "What the hell? I'll give it a crack!" You really don't know how very high up it is until the lift takes off (diagonally) and starts to ascend the tower. I felt like I was in Willy Wonker's Great Glass Elevator (without Johnny Depp!) I wanted to yell "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" but I didn't want to sound like a winging Aussie, so I put on my best Crocodile Dundee voice and said very loudly "You call this HIGH?????"

Once on the second level, to my great disappointment, we were told we couldn't go right to the top as this was the last trip of the night, so we had 15 minutes to walk around the circumference, have the obligatory photos and then head back down, BUMMER!!!! Ah, well, no one can say I didn't give it a go!

The French Open..........the last place in Paris you would think to look for me!

2009-06-07T02:18:00.000+10:00

Game on........my personal performance at the French Open Even though I was a member of the winning team in the Dumbalk ladies tennis grand final years ago, I've never really been one for watching tennis on telly and of course have never been to a "grand slam" event, so when my friends Michael and Craig suggested we try to get tickets for the French open I thought, "Why not?"

The three of us headed off to Roland Garos stadium on a beautiful, warm and sunny day, our fresh ham and soft cheese baguettes packed and the sun screen on. There were hundreds of people, some very flashily dressed, others hardly dressed at all, some carrying signs looking to buy tickets, others walking along talking and laughing. We walked amongst the throng of bodies towards the stadium (luckily Craig is tall, so there was no chance of me getting lost as I could see him up ahead without a problem). Once inside, I was surprised at how much it reminded me of being at the Royal Melbourne Show (but without the "Mad Mouse" and the fluro wigs..........oh and of course without the livestock!).

We found our designated seats in the stand (which were great by the way) and sat down. With the sun streaming down on us we settled in and watched the first game between a Frenchman and another guy (I told you I don't know much about tennis). After the match, which the French guy lost (I think mostly because he kept complaining about the 'line calls') we headed out of the court area to sit on the grass and have our lunch..............mmmmmmm!

When we went back into the stadium to watch the next game, a whole gang of guys were sitting in our seats, so Craig asked them to move, (which the first three guys did to the space directly behind us, where they had to stand) but one stubborn (but very handsome) fellow stayed 'propped' on the edge of the seat next to me (which was really half of my seat). This meant that I had to alternate between sitting on either my right or left buttock, because both couldn't fit on the seat at once (as his bottom was encroaching on my space).

I tried wriggling around, I tried "huffing" and "puffing", I tried giving him 'dirty looks', all of which he seemed oblivious to. I sat there hoping her would bend over to pick something up and I could elbow him off the edge of the seat, but he must have been 'onto' me, as he remained super glued to the seat, except if I happened to rotate my buttocks and then he would spread further onto the minute space I had just vacated. Now at the same time, the other guys behind us were loudly talking and laughing (in a language I didn't understand) to the 'seat pincher' and he was talking and laughing too, which was making me even edgier because I'm thinking, he's telling his mates how he's trying to spread his bum so much that he'll force me completely off the seat and they all think it's marvellously funny and here I am, one buttock at a time trying to maintain my balance without looking like an idiot.

Of course the loud talking and laughing is really starting to annoy other people sitting in our vicinity and they start to turn around and glare at the 'seat pincher' and his mates, who continue their conversation in joyous ignorance of the growing lever of tension building up around rows 56 & 57.

Meanwhile, on the court, one of the players is again disputing a line call and the guys behind us start to yell out to him to "stop being a sook" or words to that effect (I imagine). Now the people in front of us are getting really shirty, they progress from the occasional 'dirty look' to outright hostility and start to comment loudly on the 'rudeness of SOME people'. 'Seat pincher', in the meantime is trying to get the attention of his female companion, about six rows away and keeps yelling out to her. She keeps indicating to him to be quiet by frowning and putting her finger to her lips, which just makes him yell to her louder. Eventually, the girlfriend throws up a packet of chips to 'seat pincher' and they land on the ground in the aisle, out of his reach, one row down.

I feel the tension in the air...................what does he want more, the chips or the half of my seat he has been occupying for the best part of an hour? I start to feel excited.........this could be my opportunity, I tell myself to not get TOO excited, cause he'll notice. I try to look relaxed and pretend I haven't noticed the whole "chip packet" incident. I can feel him getting agitated next to me, I feel his buttocks start to clench, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, trying to calculate the quickest and most effective way of retrieving the packet of chips without giving up his space on my seat, when all of a sudden, he just goes for it. He leans forward, lifts his bottom off the seat, reaches toward the row in front and grabs the packet of chips.

I, on the other hand, having wasted not one second, am already well entrenched in the recently vacated space that had once been MY seat and was now mine once more. As 'seat pincher' chips in hand, attempts to park his bottom back on the seat, he realizes the space he just vacated is no longer there, but is wholly and soley occupied by me!

"Check Mate!" I think to myself smugly! He turns and looks me directly in the eye.....................and smiles a huge, handsome smile, respectfully acknowledging the skill of my manoeuvre and his ultimate defeat. I smile back. He perches himself on the one inch of space that's left at the edge of the seat, where he lasts for about five minutes, before getting up and joining his mates behind us, standing up along the railing.

The crowd cheers, the game is over..........Game, set and match Ms. Carlile says the man on the microphone. In my head I bow to my adoring fans.

Who won the tennis you may ask? I've gotta tell you, I don't have a clue, however the game of strategy played out in row 57..............the winner of that my friends..........WAS ME!

A final word on London trains

2009-06-07T01:52:00.000+10:00

Trains in London are far more efficient than those at home, but it took me a few days to work out about "the gap" The London underground trains are wonderful, you never have to wait for more than a few minutes to catch one and if you let yourself be carried along by the crowd, chances are you'll end up on the platform you were looking for. The thing that made me laugh though, is that as soon as a train is pulling into a station, the recorded voice in the carriage repeats over and over "mind the gap" and to be honest, the first time I went on the tube I thought, "gee, I better be careful when I get out", so I went to take a big step, however "the gap" was virtually non existent. Every time I rode the tube and the man said, "Mind the gap, mind the gap, mind the gap", I looked again, but at no time was there a gap that was significant, so I started to wonder what other gap he could be referring to?

Maybe it was "the gap" between the jeans and the bum cracks of the groups of young blokes waiting on the stations? Maybe it was "the gap" between my nose and the sweaty armpits of the peak hour business men holding onto the ceiling straps? Maybe it was "the gap" between my ear and the intimate conversation being conducted by the girl sitting next to me chatting loudly on her mobile phone. As I sat on the train, pondering this riddle I looked up and smiled at an elderly lady sitting opposite me, a big green Granny Smith apple in her hand and as she smiled back, she exposed a giant hole where her two front teeth should have been, just as the recorded message said "Mind the gap, mind the gap, mind the gap" and I realised that the message wasn't for me at all!

From Bath to London

2009-06-07T01:09:00.000+10:00

It was with sadness and a heavy heart that I packed my bag and left Bath, heading again for London. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful my stay in Bath was! I was not only blessed by staying with the lovely Colin (at Grosvenor Lodge), who went out of his way to look after me, even offering to do a load of washing for me........(not sure if this was because he noticed I had begun to recycle my jeans or whether he is just exceptionally kind?), but my warm welcome at Bath University also made me feel well at home! It was great to catch up with Allan Kellehear but I was also very lucky to meet and spend time with the rest of the Centre for Death and Society people and the Interdisciplinary Arts folks who were generous in their sharing of information and insights. I must say, the most wonderful thing was meeting up and sharing time with Glennys Howarth, who I felt like I've known for years........a friend who was happy to share my interest in all things Arthurian and mythical, we truly had a grand time together!

I've got to say, packing my bag was a mission, I'd broken out in such a sweat by the time I finally got the zip done up that I had to sit down on the bed and 'gather my thoughts'! I caught the train back to London (this time with no detour via Castle Cary), and got off at Paddington Station to catch another train to Heathrow, where I was staying for the night (in a hotel, not on a bench at the airport!). I won't go into detail about the millions of stairs I had to carry my suitcase, bags and backpacks up and down before finally getting to the hotel, suffice to say, I was ready for a stiff drink and a 'good lie down' by the time I arrived! I had a quiet night and hopped into bed early ready for a call early in the morning from my friend Michael who was flying in from home.

Michael and I caught the the train back into London the next morning, deposited our bags at the station and headed off to have another crack at Westminster Abbey (my previous visit having not been very memorable). This time round I paid the 15 pounds entry fee and was glad that I did as I got to see all of the memorials and statues that I'd missed on my last visit. Even though you're not allowed to take photos inside the Abbey, one of the guides who graciously pointed out Winston's grave to me, generously allowed me to have a photo (as I'd told him I was on a Churchill Fellowship), much to the chagrin of other visitors who were told in no uncertain terms by the same man to "put away your cameras, this lady had won a special award so she has my expressed permission for a photograph,"!

It was great to see "Poet's Corner" where memorials (and for some, tombs) to James Joyce, Geoffrey Chaucer, Charles Dickens, Lawrence Olivier, Jonathan Swift and Byron (among others)are located. I was also in awe of the huge memorials to both Charles Darwin and Isaac Newton, which were both spectacular.........of course the Newton memorial was made famous by the infamous Dan Brown novel, which gave a fair bit of ammunition to the conspiracy theorists.

Michael and I headed off in the afternoon, back to the airport to fly to Paris for the weekend. So it's farewell England, Bon soir Paris!

To the wilds of the Cornish coast and my encounter with Uther Pendragon and his famous son!

2009-06-04T08:40:00.000+10:00

On to the birthplace of King Arthur and a "raspberry" to everyone who told me it was not worth the trip! Many of my friends told me not to bother with the long drive from Bath to Cornwall just to visit Tintagel, cause it was full of loud mouthed tourists and screaming kids! I've always wanted to visit Tintagel, and the major reason for our expedition to Cornwall was to do just that! I wasn't prepare to fore go a trip to Cornwall just because Tintagel may be crowded and a bit commercial. To be honest, I employed the same strategy that has previously been incredibly successful on my jaunts to Avebury, Salisbury, Lacock and other popular sites. The night before I had headed off on my final long day excursion with Glennys, I sat on my bed and envisioned arriving in Tintagel in a "bubble", experiencing the place as it would have been in ancient times and connecting with the energy of the Arthurian court.

As previously reported, though there were a few people around in Boscastle, it hadn't meant we were limited in what we did or that we had to wait for our tea and scones, so I had no reason to expect as we drove down the road to Tintagel that anything would be different, after all, I'd set it all up last night in my head (and heart) before I went to sleep!

We pulled up in the car park and walked down the road past the "King Arthur Pizza Parlour" and the "Merlin Surf Shop and Crystal Cave" (or places to that effect). We arrived at the gate to buy our tickets onto the island and the lady said that we'd only have 45 minutes till they "locked it up" (whatever that meant). Glen and I passed two couples coming down the 300 or so stairs that lead over the land bridge to the island and they were the ONLY PEOPLE we saw the whole time we were there!

We spent what seemed like hours, walking quietly over the rocks and crags, through the ruins, up stairs, down stairs, across the wild landscape rarely speaking but both immersed in our own private thoughts. For me, I felt like I'd walked through a veil of time and space, similar to how I felt at Avebury, but the energy of this place was wild and free. Birds soured overhead, the waves crashed on the rocks below as I sat in the garden bed where I imagined Arthur's mother Igraine sat during her pregnancy, waiting for her second husband Uther Pendragon to return to her after fighting against the Saxons. The wind was wild and gusty, but I didn't feel cold. The sun was bright and warm, the clouds were fluffy and grey, the landscape was absolutely stunning! The grand, ancient rocks stood like sentinels on the edge of the rugged cliffs. The remains of the castle held the energy of the grand court that they once housed. I could feel them all, Arthur, the Merlin of Britain, Vivien, the Lady of the Lake, Morgaine le Fay (Arthur's half-sister) and of course Guinevere and Lancelot. I know this all sounds a bit romantic and "air-headed", but I'm telling you this place has a mystic quality I simply can't describe.

I explored every inch of the island. I stopped and looked at the tiny wild flowers that grow in abundance. I leaned against giant boulders and stood on the very edge of the cliffs, with my arms outstretched feeling like I could simply jump off and glide over the island as the sea birds above me were doing. After what seemed like hours, the lady from the ticket box ambled over and told us she was ready to "lock up" and go home. I must say, I felt like it WAS time for me to go. The sun was setting, there was a real chill in the air and I knew my journey had come to an end.

Glennys and I took our time walking back down the stairs, looking at the myriad of smugglers caves along the coast and sharing our thoughts and feelings. Funnily enough the long, steep walk back to the town seemed effortless. We found ourselves a seat at the oldest pub in Cornwall and sat together quietly drinking a wine and pondering the mystery of things.

I have always been drawn to the Arthurian stories, the love, the tragedy and the vision of a better world. From the time I was a little girl I felt drawn to a place on the other side of the world. The lesson in this for me is that I NEARLY didn't come, because I allowed myself to be influenced by OTHER PEOPLE'S experiences. If I had not heeded my OWN inner guidance I would have missed out on one of the most awe inspiring experiences of my life..............45 minutes (which felt like 45 hours) I will never forget. The lesson in this for me is AGAIN, to trust my own heart and follow it! I don't know how many times I need this proved to me, but I think finally I've got the message.

Over and over this Churchill Fellowship for me has been integral to my own quest. A quest for knowledge, a quest for meaning and most of all a quest for validation of the path I have chosen. I am so lucky to have connected with these truly powerful places that retain the energy of all those wise and learned people who have come before............all of that energy retained in the landscape of these wild and wonderful places. All of the love and pain of a life on earth and the wisdom freely shared with us as we grapple with our own challenges in the 21st century.

SO, my little piece of advice..............if you feel drawn to a time, a place, a history, a story, a life, don't let the experiences of others push you away from your path. Their experience is THEIR experience. Your experience will be YOUR experience..................and often these are the polar opposite. WHY? Because we are all unique and individual and have chosen what it is we want and need to learn and experience in this lifetime and no one knows better than ourselves what those things are.

So I farewelled Tintagel with a light heart and a feeling of achievement. I drove home the four hours to Bath chatting madly to Glennys and feeling wonderful. That night I slept the sleep of the dead. I didn't wake. I didn't dream. I was totally immersed in the wonder of all I had seen, felt and always known and you cant ask for more than that!

Heading to Cornwall in search of King Arthur, Doc Martin and witches

2009-06-04T07:11:00.000+10:00

As most of you know, I'm not much of a fan of "bloody" cold, damn windy and constant rain, however knowing that all would be well, I settled down to sleep with my alarm set for 6am, my backpack filled and my warm woolies wrapped around the sat-nav (just in case it got cold and wouldn't work).

I picked up Glen at 6.30 and we headed off on the four hour drive to Cornwall. We arrived in the dear little town of Boscastle (which looked JUST like where Doc Martin lives) and headed for the tea shop. The tea shop is situated on a Bridge that says it is "the property of the Lord of the Manor" and is dated 1886. Well he wasn't there that day to kick out the antipodean and her friend, and instead we had wonderful scones, jam and clotted cream before heading to the Museum of Witchcraft. I must say, Boscastle was flooded badly in 2005 and many of the really old buildings were badly damaged, but as we walked down to the Museum, we came across some guys chipping away by hand at the cement render on a building in preparation for re-rendering and my education continued. After pleading ignorance, the nice man explained all about what he was doing and why removing the render by hand, with a hammer and chisel was MUCH more effective than using a machine. Important knowledge for me, especially if I ever decide to renovate a rendered 16th century cottage in coastal Victoria!

Onwards to the Museum of Witchcraft, a quaint, white washed building tucked away in the corner of town. I've gotta say, given the esoteric friends I hang out with, I've seen a fair bit of "witchy-poo" stuff, but this museum was the REAL DEAL! There were things that made me feel really sad, like a long list of women who had been burned, hung or drowned, instruments of torture, nooses (used ones),and a real dunking chair............all of which were generally applied to women who were just trying to heal, nurture and provide midwifery care to the people in their villages, and who had made the fatal mistake of not marrying and floating when dunked in a pond!

There was also some really scary stuff like a whole range of "poppets", complete with pins inserted in places I would imagine would have been quite uncomfortable for the recipients of the spell, mummified hands and a really disturbing recording of Alister Crowley who sounded like he was long dead when the recording was made! The collection of herbs, mortars and pestles, scrying mirrors and crystal orbs were extraordinary. As we left the museum, I walked past a mummified skull that was obviously very old and stood for a moment to pay my respects.............it doesn't matter where I find pieces of people, whether in museums, churches or galleries, I can't help but feel overwhelmingly sad that a piece of someone is missing from the rest of their remains. Some of you might think this is a bit of a romantic notion, but I'd like to think that no matter who you are, your nationality, your age or your religion, you are entitled to be treated with the same amount of dignity after you have died as you are entitled to when you are living and that should mean that your remains are kept intact, so that whatever happens after death, you have all of your bits in one place.........but that's just me!

We left the Museum of Witchcraft and headed to the "woollies" store to buy some antarctic fleecies as the wind had whipped up to a gale (despite the sun being warm) and I didn't want to die of hypothermia before I had my encounter with King Arthur! We crossed the road and went to look at the beautiful old National Trust Boscastle Post Office. I must say, walking through the old Post Office, which is a rare example of a "Cornish Medieval Hall House", my sadness at leaving behind the poor dismembered body parts in the Museum was lifted by a number of beautiful old cross stitch samplers that were hanging on the walls, that talked about death, grief and loss, many of which were painstakingly sewn by young girls and hopefully taught them some lessons about the dignity of death and the importance of death rituals as they sewed away at night by roaring fires, listening to the ships wash up on the rugged coast and the wind whipping the trees. The gardens at the Post Office were beautifully manicured and seemed to complement both the building, the artwork and the wild landscape.

As I wrapped myself in the insulation of my Cornwellian woolly jumper, Glenys and I hopped into the car, left gentle, sleepy Boscastle behind us and headed up the road to Tintagel.

"Climbing up on Salisbury Hill"

2009-06-03T03:49:00.000+10:00

Well, I didn't do a Peter Gabriel and climb Salisbury Hill, but I did go to the cathedral! The arts just jump out at you in the most surprising places. I headed to Salisbury Cathedral, because I'd always wanted to see it after reading Edward Rutherfurd's book, "Sarum" years ago. It is renowned, not only for the architecture, which is amazingly Gothic, but for it's beautiful leadlight windows, that are the brightest azure blue I have ever seen. It really is a spectacular building and it never ceases to amaze me the skill and ingenuity of those craftsmen who built the great cathedrals. The amount of incredible detail in every small component of the internal and external structure is amazing enough, but the cathedral is filled with beautiful sculptures, paintings, mosaics and reliquaries, all works of art in their own right.

In the courtyard, there was an amazing installation (the arts again!) among the graves (some of which were hundreds of years old) which incorporated prose written on slate pieces that had been broken and made into a path that wove it's way around the grave markers and there was a continuous recording of different voices reading the prose and poetry accompanied by church bells and music, piped through tiny hidden speakers within the quadrangle. Walking around among the graves, the voices seemed to follow you and every few minutes the bells would ring and some gently music would segue into the next reading. Such a simple concept and so powerful. People sat among the graves, or gently ambled around, quietly contemplating the lives that had been lived by the people now buried under their feet.

I also find it somewhat comforting to keep stumbling across examples of dark age and medieval graffiti.......it seems that even the dark ages and medieval times "kids will be kids" and some 'ruffians' felt the need to carve their names on memorials, statues and effigies in order to make their mark (so to speak) on history along with the craftsmen. So nothing much has changed!

Interestingly I yet again caught "Even song" and observed a man who wasn't so keen on being there, but had been dragged there by his female companion, who was quite enthusiastic about singing along with the choir. He let it be known loud and clear that he wasn't happy (in very colorful language) and was promptly evicted by one of the church officials, at which point I also departed as I was about to get a fit of the giggles, and I didn't want the humiliation of being evicted as well!

From Avebury to Stonehenge.........from awe to saddness

2009-06-03T02:38:00.000+10:00

I was "itching" to get to Avebury, but it exceeded my wildest dreams, Stonehenge, on the other hand made me feel sad. Many of my 'in the know' friends told me to make sure I visited Avebury, that I'd never want to leave......and they were right. As soon as I saw the stone circle, I could feel my heart expanding. I know this sounds terribly "new agey" and you will all expect me to come home now with dreadlocks and bare feet, but I've got to tell you, those stones are awesome! Not only was I so aware of being connected to them, but they lead you along, from one to another. It's like they are a giant family and each individual stone is unique in it's own right, but predominantly, part of the "whole".........I guess they are a fine example of "holism" (so that makes perfect sense to me). Once I entered the circle, I felt myself drawn to each stone in turn and the wonderful thing about Avebury is that you can touch the stones, sit against them and just BE with them...........there's no electric fence, no guards with whistles, just you and the stones. It's like a kind of pilgrimage. As you walk from one stone to the next, the ground gently undulates and so you feel like you are travelling a time honored path, in the company of ancient wisdom.

Again I found it interesting that although there was a fair few people there, I seemed to be journeying in some sort of vortex and the people around me were quiet and reverent, like they were in a church, and I guess we all were.

I realised as I was walking along, quietly connecting with each of the stones in turn, that this circle not only represented ancient spirituality, but also intimately linked with my interest in arts in healthcare. You may think I'm drawing a long bow here, but bear with me. To the ancients, I imagine these stones provided a spiritual ritual, I could easily see ancient people walking along as I was, approaching each stone individually, connecting with it, disengaging when they were ready and then being drawn to the next one. Like we should be doing with each other, our patients, our friends, our family......being truly "in the present" with each individual and then disengaging and replicating the same process with the next person with whom we engage. While we are in that space of being truly "with" someone, we are asking "Who are you?" and allowing them to share themselves with us. We seem to find so little time for this in our busy lives. I also understood that the stones are works of art, embedded in the landscape (and this is where the "arts in healthcare" bit comes in). If we can embed art into health environments we give people "permission" to just BE in a space, to get to know themselves, to sit in their individuality and to appreciate themselves for who they are, without guilt or regret or jealousy............we seem to have lost this and I think it's about time we learned something from those who came before us.................

It was with great reluctance that I left Avebury after visiting Avebury Manor, with it's beautifully manicured gardens and the village with it's thatched roof cottages and little shops. But I must tell you about the grove of ancient trees that the pagans still visit on May Day to tie prayer ribbons to. I walked up the incline to where the three huge trees are and I felt like I was in 'Middle Earth', The trees are HUGE and VERY old and look like I imagined Tolkien's "Tree Beard" to look. Again I was overwhelmed by the beauty and spirit of the trees. They seemed to have faces and personalities, each again individual, but part of a whole. I spent quite some time just standing under their embracing branches looking up into their canopies feeling so very luck to be there right at that moment, and I know they were glad to have me there!

I'll finish this entry with a short word on Stonehenge. I'd planned to get there at dusk so I could see the sun sink behind this iconic, ancient structure. Parking was difficult as the roadside was packed. The stones are surrounded by tennis court fencing and there are security guys everywhere, watching the numerous mini buses and camper vans parked beside adjacent paddocks with eager folks just waiting for an opportunity to bolt over the fences and enter the site. There's a concrete tunnel from the carpark, under the road that leads to the entry and this is the only official way of getting in, but even so, unless you have a special permit, you can't enter the circle. I stood by the side of the road as a crowd of people jostled for position to take the best photo, tripods, long distance lenses, ipods and mobile phones in hand. I stayed well back from them all and just looked towards the stones and I felt like I do when I go to the zoo and look at the gorillas. These huge majestic creatures, circled by wire, people laughing, yelling, elbowing each other out of the way............it made me feel sad. I understand why the wire and the guards need to be there because for some reason the people who visit here just "want a piece" of Stonehenge in one way or another, and it needs to be protected, but I couldn't help but compare the people here with the respectful people I saw at Avebury. Here there was no reverence,no spirit, no awe..........just a whole stack of people wanting to get the best photo and I think years of this has 'sucked' the energy from the place. Now, the druids might disagree with me, but it felt to me like a church that had been desecrated and we should be ashamed that we have allowed that to happen.

Me, Hogwarts and the Giant Cauldron

2009-06-03T02:31:00.001+10:00

Lacock Abbey holds a treasure trove of secrets (but not in a 'chamber' as such)! Type remaining message over this text.

The "Chamber of Secrets".........without 'he who must not be named'

2009-06-03T02:28:00.000+10:00

Lacock Village and Abbey........the home of "Hogwarts"

2009-06-03T01:19:00.000+10:00

You can't visit the surrounds of Bath without a visit to old things that are relevant to contemporary culture and so Harry Potter was definitely on the menu! The next day saw Glen and I visit Lacock National Trust Village, a glorious old village filled with thatched roof cottages, gardens and little shops. Originally an Abbey town, the old Tithe Barn, built in the 14th century, still smells of the ancient timbers and produce it once contained. We walked around the village, poking our heads into doorways and marvelling at the 'lean' on the fascia of many of the homes (which people still live in).

After quite a drive and then a long walk, we decided it was time for a "cuppa", so headed towards a glorious little tearoom with fragrant gardens and met Margaret, the lovely older lady who owns the establishment (and who hurt her back maintaining the garden). We had a "cream tea" and sat quietly in the gardens watching the giant bumble bees flit from one fragrant flowering plant to another. The garden itself was beautiful, but the furniture, crockery and cutlery that Margaret had been collecting for years were gorgeous.

This was again another experience of "going back in time". Not only was Harry Potter filmed in Lacock Village and at the Abbey, but also "Pride and Prejudice" and a number of other period dramas over the years......it is an authentic environment (you can't create the same feel in a "back lot" of a film studio)! I must say I wouldn't have been surprised if "Mr. Darcy" (the Colin Firth version of course) had popped his head around the corner and on seeing me elegantly sipping my tea, said, "Miss, you are extraordinarily beautiful, would you like to join me for a tour of the gardens?" Of course in the Aussie vernacular, I can hear you all saying "tell her she's dreamin'!!" and of course I was!

From the tearooms, we strolled up to the Abbey, which was originally a true monastic community, founded prior to the 13 century by the Benedictines, but after the dissolution became a private home and manor house for the village, it's first custodian being William Sharrington. The monastic nature of the manor is still very evident, particularly when you move from the old dormitories (that were converted to bedrooms) into the original cloister areas which remain mostly as they would have been when they were walked in prayerful reflection by the members of the Benedictine religious community who called this place "home". The infirmary, Chapter House, Parlour, kitchens and store rooms remain mostly as they would have been originally, although why there are three stone caskets (empty ones thank goodness) in the store room, I can't tell you!

In the true spirit of Harry Potter, there is an enormous cauldron in the kitchen that is dated 1645 and stamped by the craftsman who made it....this just hasn't been put here to add more of a Harry Potter "feel", I checked underneath it and it is not an ornament, it's certainly been well used as it bears the scars of many a "roaring fire", so even if the people here died of pneumonia (because it is freezing cold in the cloisters), at least they died having eaten a nice hot pot of stew.

After ambling around the beautiful gardens (which seem to be well used by local kids, many of whom were swimming in the lake), and stumbling across a couple who were involved in activities of a very different nature, hidden in the long grass, Glen and I decided that was our cue to head for home. So I farewelled Lacock, a visit I had intended to be a brief one, but as it turned out had kept me totally engaged for the best part of a whole day.

On to Glastonbuty Tor..............and Avalon

2009-06-03T00:20:00.000+10:00

After the silent relaxed atmosphere of Glastonbury Abbey, Glen and I headed for the rugged, steep climb to Glastonbury Tor, rising from the mystical isle of Avalon. No wonder Vivien, the "lady of the Lake" and the priestesses of Avalon were so fit.....the climb to the top of the Tor is not for the faint of heart! The steps are steep and small, enough space (just) for your foot and only wide enough to walk in single file. There are no rails or fencing, so if you loose your footing, you are likely to tumble down the side of the very steep drop down to the marshland where the original lake would have been. In fact, while we were there three ambulance officers were in the process of retrieving a woman who HAD lost her footing and had to be hauled up the embankment(her leg in a splint) before they CARRIED her in a wheelchair back down the path to the waiting ambulance. I must say, there's obviously no such thing as a "no lift" policy when it comes to rescuing stray travellers from the wilds of the Tor!

Once we arrived at the top, a little our of breath and with the lactic acid in our legs causing our calf muscles to 'twitch', the view was spectacular! The tower at the top of the Tor was no bigger in circumference than an average sized loungeroom and extremely tall. Of course this wasn't the original building (I couldn't imagine the priestesses of the goddess all managing to live in such a small space) but was used by hermit monks as a place of prayer and seclusion in the middle ages. Prior to that it is said that St Par tick came here after returning from Ireland and there was said to have been a Monastery here in the 6th century A.D named for St. Michael. After the dissolution of the monasteries, the last Abbott of Glastonbury was hanged here (of course after they dragged him from the valley to the very top of the Tor). It has been a wild and unforgiving place.
There were a few visitors up there when we arrived, but again we were blessed with the support of the "veil" which seemed to enveloped us and insulate us from the laughter and conversations that were going on around us...........most appropriate!

As I sat on the edge of the ridge, looking out at the beautiful view of the lowlands back towards the town of Glastonbury, a big black raven glided in the updraft and landed a few feet away from me. It hopped over towards me and just stood, it's yellow eyes gazing directly into mine. I must admit, I was quite mesmerised. I sat very still and maintained the connection and felt quite light and weightless, my aching calves disappeared and I felt totally at peace. The wind was blowing, the sun was shining and I was sitting on the very edge of Glastonbury Tor connected to a wild bird who seemed like she was talking to me...........it just doesn't get any better than this!

Site of King Arthur's grave

2009-06-03T00:16:00.000+10:00

The remains of King Arthur and his queen were removed from this site in 1278 in the presence of King Edward 1 and Eleanor of Aquataine and reburied, The grave site was lost after the dissolution of the Abbey in 1539, but I know he's there somewhere! .

More of Glastonbury Abbey

2009-06-03T00:12:00.000+10:00

A monk with a stick!

Finding King Arthur and his queen

2009-06-02T23:22:00.000+10:00

All my life I have yearned to visit Glastonbury Abbey For those fellow Arthurian tragics like me, you know the call of Glastonbury: home of the monks who lived across the mists from mystical Avalon. I must admit I set off with my guide and fellow traveller Glennys, putting all of my energy into manifesting an experience that would be both spiritual and personal. Heaps of people told me about being disappointed with their visits to the Arthurian sites, that they were commercial, tacky and full of obnoxious tourists talking loudly and filming anything that moved. I've got to say, all of the places I visited could not have been more inspirational. I don't know if I've finally "cracked" the secret to walking in between realities, but something was certainly going on when I visited all of these places, time and space seemed to stop and I felt transported to the essence of each of stone, each building, each garden..........I felt like I was walking with the past inhabitants, like they had invited me on a journey and I am so grateful that they did!

When the spirits of the past are walking with you, doors just seem to open and the first door for me was Glennys offering to act as my guide over a few days and share with me her knowledge of the history of each place we visited. We just seemed to "fire" off each other, with both of us having different knowledge that we shared to complete the jigsaw of the history we were connecting with. Glastonbury Abbey is an amazingly quiet and peaceful place. The day was warm and sunny and sitting on the grass silently immersed in the energy of the place, each stone seemed to tell it's own story. The gardens are beautiful, little areas of woodlands with ponds, birds and ancient trees all framing the enormous structures of the Abbey that remain. The "Lady Chapel" has a particularly beautiful energy and I simply can't describe how quiet and still it was. Despite a number of people visiting while we were there, you could hardly hear another voice, just the chirping of birds and the gently rustle of the trees in the breeze.

Standing beside the site of King Arthur's tomb was an amazingly powerful experience for me. Some say he was never buried there, others swear he is still somewhere within the grounds.......I don't need to know whether his body is somewhere within the Abbey or not, it was enough for me to just feel him about........far more than I ever expected!

While we were sitting quietly on the hill immersed in our own thoughts, I saw an old lady sitting on a bench nearby. She was dressed in her "going out" clothes and had a basket with a thermos and sandwiches. I watched her as she gazed reverently at each building in turn and when her eyes came to rest on the "Lady Chapel" her face reflected the serenity and wisdom of her years. I wondered if she came her often. I wondered what it was that she found here and if it was the same sort of feeling I felt just sitting here. I wondered if she was real or maybe an apparition. I wondered if she belonged in this place, maybe she was a nun, maybe a local villager or maybe a queen from long ago. While I was thinking about her, Glennys said, "Hey Moll, look at that old lady, she just seems to belong here doesn't she?" And I understood her, cause that was just how I felt too!

All about PIGEONS.....from the guys who know

2009-05-28T01:59:00.000+10:00

After dropping into the Larkhall Inn for a quick 'lemonade' (yeh!), I learned more than I've ever known about pigeons! So I ordered my lemonade, walked out to the back garden of the pub and sat down enjoying the late afternoon sun. All of a sudden I heard "cooing" noises coming from the road and turned around to see some guys carrying in baskets and baskets of pigeons. Me being the "nosey parker" I am asked them what the birds were for (and hoping they weren't on the menu at the pub for dinner) was delighted to be told that they were racing birds getting ready for tagging and release the next day. Of course this wasn't enough information for me, so I spent the next two hours with Simon, Dave, Steve, Janet and the rest of the Bath South Road Pigeon Club, learning all about how, where and why you would race pigeons. I must say I had no idea how complex the process is.

Did you know:
- During a race, upwards of 6000 birds can be released at EXACTLY the same time
- Pigeons are fed a special mix of maise, corn, maple peas and supplements
- Pigeons tend to mate for life (however some of the friskier cocks might have "a bit on the side" ever so often) I'm told
- The birds all have bands on their legs (some have state of the art electronic tags) that are 'clocked' when they arrive back home at the end of the race
- The pigeons start racing at about 6 months of age and have to 'train' just like any other athlete
- During WW2 pigeons were often the safest means of the military to communicate and a couple of pigeons received the Victoria Cross as a result of the support they provided in the midst of immense threat, during the war
- Lots of racing pigeons are killed by Sparrow Hawks and Peregrines (because their numbers have increased due to being protected species)
- Racing pigeons can fly 1880 yards per minute (depending on wind velocity)

The "pigeon pals" I met were en route to Little Hampton, where they would be released the next morning and it would take most of them about 1 1/2 hours to fly home.

So thanks to Dave, Steve, Simon, Jane (the publican), Kevin, Janet, Dave, Rob, Brian, Dave (again) and a mystery man (we'll call him 'the phantom' who is hiding in the back of the photo), who provided me with all of this information and who were all so friendly and generous to a nosey Aussie who knew NOTHING about pigeons, but was keen to learn!.

Visiting the team at CDAS, Bath University

2009-05-28T01:37:00.000+10:00

The work begins! Before the "fun and frolicks" which I'll tell you about later I did do some work! I spent the first week in Bath at the Centre for Death and Society at the University of Bath. A great welcome awaited me with Glennys Howarth CDAS Director, taking great care of me. CDAS has a number of wonderful programs but the one that really inspired me was a foundation degree they conduct for Funeral Directors......wonderful initiative. In addition, Glennys's major interest is in ritual and after death care, so of course we have a lot in common. We had a number of indepth discussions about how we treat the dead both immediately after their death and how we prepare them for burial, interment or cremation. We also talked a lot about how we maintain relationships with those who have died. I also got to catch up with an ex-Melbourne friend, Allan Kellehear who hadn't seen for three years, which was great!

Glennys linked me in with the Centre for Interdisciplinary Arts people who had some great ideas about linking performance, visual and creative arts with death education and care of the dead. Mulling over all of this information while I slept, I must say I thought of some brilliant ways of applying some more 'radical' approaches to what we do at home, particularly around memorialising, so watch out........I'll be coming home ready to shake things up a bit!

Bath University is a beautiful place, with grounds filled with gardens and walking paths, a lovely environment for the students! I even stumbled across a group of guys playing 'footy' on one of the lawns, must say I felt like asking a few of them if they were interested in playing for Collingwood.......'nough said!

The Roman Baths.(Aquae Sulis)......a place for body AND soul

2009-05-28T00:35:00.000+10:00

Those Romans sure must have been clean! The Roman Baths (of course in Bath) are a great example of the ingenuity of the earlier civilisations. We tend to be very arrogant in thinking that the post industrial/technology generations are the epitome of civilised living, but when you think about how poorly we care for ourselves, each other and the environment, it may well be time to look back at how things were done in days gone by. Now I'm not naive, I don't know that I'd have wanted to be a woman in Roman Britain or in Minoan Greece for that matter, however if you were a bloke, relatively well off, young and healthy, I think you really could have lived a relatively pleasant life (so long as you weren't a soldier). Walking around the Roman Baths, you could really get a feel for both the community nature of the baths as well as the spiritual aspect of reverence and dignity that is incorporated in the ritual of cleansing and contemplation. They obviously valued the sense of community and camaraderie that relaxing in the baths allowed them (in addition of course to the healthy influence of bathing in the mineral springs, sweating away the cares of the day in the steam rooms and sitting around chatting and exchanging ideas). Remarkably the influence of women is clearly evident in the complex, where not only are there areas designated for women, but where most of the deities are female.......lots to be learned here! So maybe being a woman wasn't too bad in Roman Britain (with the same caveat applied as to the men), but of course you wouldn't want to be poor, old, ugly or sick..........nothing much has changed in this respect really, has it?

Photos include the golden head of the goddess Minerva and a shot of another goddess (an Aussie one) hanging out with the temple priest, this goddess was obviously feeling the cold that day!)

Top of Bath Abbey Tower

2009-05-28T00:31:00.001+10:00

Looking out from the Bath Abbey Tower!

2009-05-27T23:59:00.000+10:00

You may not believe it, but I climbed the 212 steps to the top of Bath Abbey.....and back down again!. Bath Abbey is absolutely beautiful. The Abbey itself is full of headstones, leadlight, statues, alcoves and an awesome bell tower. I climbed the very skinny spiral staircase up to the bell tower and looked at the bells which are held in place by huge beams containing graffiti from the 17th century.......amazing! In behind the bell tower itself is a little room that is directly above the altar and there is a small hole (about 2cm in diameter) in one of the beams that looks down onto the nave so that the bell ringer could see the bride and groom during a wedding and therefore would know when it was time to ring the bells! I guess it wasn't practical to have a priest running up and down the stairs giving the bell ringers their cue.
Attached is a picture of the hole, the bells and also a video of the view from the Bath Abbey tower.

Grosvenor Lodge......a little bit of heaven in Bath

2009-05-20T03:05:00.001+10:00

The warm, welcoming arms of Grosvenor Lodge drew me in from the cold, harsh realities of missing my station.

Lost on the moors.......ooooooohhhhhh!!!!!!

2009-05-20T01:49:00.000+10:00

"Let me out" didn't make any difference when I yelled it at the station master, he just frowned and shut the door!

My trip to Bath started well enough, despite having to drag my 50 tonnes of luggage all over Paddington Station before finding the right train. I hopped into the comfy seat in the carriage and settled down with my book ready to enjoy the scenery until I was due to change stations at Westbury. We travelled through some beautiful countryside and I was enjoying the quietness of the carriage (there was only two other people), when the voice over the PA said, "next stop Westbury". I knew I'd have to wait there for about an hour before the Bath train arrived, but that was OK because the lady at Paddington had told me there was a cafe at Westbury, so I was looking forward to a coffee and a sticky bun. I got out of my seat, collected my voluminous array of paraphernalia and stood at the door as the train pulled into the station, and there I stayed! I stood and waited, waited, waited for the door to open and nothing happened. I started to get a bit 'edgy', so said to a man sitting close by, "How do I get out?" He flew out of his seat and said, "you have to open the window, put your hand thru and open the door from the outside", all while he was doing just that. As he tried to push the door open the station master came running down the platform......."Shut the door, SHUT THE DOOR" he yelled. "This lady needs to get out" my rescuer yelled back........."NO" boomed the stationmaster and before I could say anything appropriate to the situation, the train had pulled out of the station and was heading into unknown territory!

My rescuer said, "don't worry, you can get a train back from the next station". That's alright I thought, thanked him and sat back down. I still couldn't understand why what had seemed like the Emergency Evacuation instructions printed on the door were actually not for emergencies at all, but were for normal departure from the train!

So when the train stopped at Castle Cary, my rescuer opened the door for me and I disembarked. By the time I had loaded my backpack onto my aching shoulders and looked around, the train was gone and I was on a totally empty station, with the wind blowing a gale and frost beginning to form on my nose and fingers! Without boring you all, the next hour and forty five minutes consisted of me sitting in a tiny shed, rubbing my hands together to try and keep warm and ducking the torrential rain that intermittently blew directly into my little shelter.

The sky was black, the wind was blowing, the rain was pouring, there was no one to be seen..........it was silent apart from an occasional bird who chirped and then flew away (because it had more sense than to stay with me). I started to feel a bit anxious, to be honest, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but kept telling myself, "this is an adventure, there's a reason for me being here". For some crazy reason I began to think about that movie, "An American Werewolf in London", when the young tourist guy is waiting for the train, in the wind and rain, all alone out the back of rural England, and gets attached by a werewolf! I shook my head to try and get rid of the thought. The wind blew in a huge gust, a metal sign banged against the side of the shed, I jumped three foot in the air, my eyes on stalks.............."AND IN THE DISTANCE A BULL ROARED"!

To cut a very long story short, eventually (1 3/4 hours later) a train did come. I quickly hopped on. By this stage a couple of wise local people who were catching this train en route to Bristol had just arrived at the station from their warm firesides and hopped on with me. In my carriage a group of young lads who had in their possession a Claxton Horn, took great joy in frightening each other by blowing it unexpectedly, all the way to Bath. Suffice to say, even though I knew this was going to happen every so often (and each time I SAW it about to happen), I jumped three foot in the air EVERY SINGLE TIME!

I won't bother telling you about my difficulty explaining to the cab driver where I wanted to go once I got out at Bath station, or the drudgery of carting my bags to the door of my new abode, I will end this long winded story on a jolly note. Arriving tired, wet cold and with my nerves shot at the door of Grosvenor Lodge, I was met by the warm and friendly Colin, who escorted me into his beautiful, warm and classic Georgian B & B and showed me to my room where he left me to settle in. The room is beautiful, the bed large and sumptuous with an arctic strength doona and embroidered linen. On the beautifully patina'd dresser there is a porcelain cup and saucer next to the jug and a view from the heavily draped window of the rolling hills..............and that was before I went down to the lounge where the antique dining table was set for breakfast with bone handled silverware, porcelain china (Carlyle pattern!) and crystal candelabra. AAAAAAHHHHHH heaven at last!

I know you're waiting for the moral of this long and sorry tale, but I'm afraid I'm yet to work that out myself. Maybe it's "Good things come to those who wait" or "You don't know what you've got till it's gone", but I'm more likely to think it was all a scheme of my dear old Dad's to give me an opportunity to tell a story that includes his classic storytelling line, "And in the distance......a bull roared"! If so Dad, it's done now, so my ongoing adventure needs no further intercession! Type remaining message over this text.

Guy's and St Thomas's Charity

2009-05-20T00:41:00.000+10:00

A place where the arts are costed into the infrastructure and capital budgets! I was most fortunate to meet with David Jones and Karen Sarkissian at Guy's Hospital in London. David is the E.D of the Charity and Karen the Director of Art and Heritage. Given the history of both the Guy's and St. Thomas hospitals, retaining and building on their heritage is core business for the Charity. The Charity funds multiple cutting edge projects and contributes to education and research. I was keen to gain an understanding about how the arts are incorporated in new capital projects and Karen very generously showed me a number of specific installation commissions and exhibitions they have supported over the past few years, including a beautiful glass installation they incorporated in the rebuild of the counselling/ bereavement area.

They have an extensive performing arts program including resident musicians who provide regular weekly lunchtime recitals, in addition to a writer in residence who works with patients, all supported by the Charity. The Guy's and St Thomas' Charity also supports education and research and is currently providing 4.5M in funding the Modernisation Initiative End of Life Care project for Lambeth and Southwark. This project focuses on establishing partnerships, evaluating the model of care and developing a range of innovative pilot projects (with a special focus on dementia) to ensure dignified death in place of choice for older patients. Of course, I was very interested in this and hope to find out more when I visit with the Director later this week. Follow the link for more information.

An installation funded by the Charity (and Friend's of Guy's Hospital), was one of the first things I noticed as I walked into the Guy's Hospital complex from tube station. It is a wonderful bronze statue of poet John Keats, who trained as a "surgeon-apothecary" at Guy's Hospital in 1815-16. The thing I love, is that this piece isn't just a statue, but a true installation, that invites you to interact. Keats is just sitting there waiting for you to join him on the bench!, a temptation I had to resist as someone had beaten me to it!

I did get to talk to a living poet later in the day though. After leaving Guy's I was a bit thirsty (and it was time for dinner), so headed down to a pub in King's Cross, where I met Finn, a modern day 'angry Irish balladeer", who provided me with an evening of interesting conversation and insight into his view of contemporary Irish attitudes to death and dying. A very educating day, all in all!

Farewell to "Bud" Tingwell

2009-05-19T23:51:00.001+10:00

It was with great sadness that I received the news from home of the death of Charles "Bud" Tingwell! Bud was a great friend to the palliative care sector, not only via his heartfelt performances in Alan Hopgood's play "The Carer", but by his generous promotion of the philosophy and providers of palliative care, particularly in Victoria. It is because of Bud in fact, that I met Alan!

Let me paint a picture for you. I was asked to be responsible for the launch of National Palliative Care Awareness Week in 2005, ( a somewhat daunting task). I was wracking my brains to think of a high profile public figure who would not only understand palliative care, but entertain and educate the audience. We'd managed to get a wonderful venue at Federation Square, catering and all the other arrangements were made and all that was missing was the guest speaker! I don't know how I managed it, but I got a phone number for Bud from the phonebook and rang the number, expecting to speak to his manager or secretary. Lo and behold, when the phone was answered, it was the great man himself! I introduced myself and explained to him what I was after. We talked for some time on the phone and I must say I hung up thinking what a kind and accommodating man he was. Bud put me on to Jo Baker, his manager, to make sure the date was free...........and the rest is history. Bud did an amazing job, and in the true spirit of the man he was, he didn't charge us anything because he believed in the importance of spreading the word of palliative care into the community.

I grew up watching Bud in children's shows on the telly as well as in classic Australian movies like "Smiley" with "Chips" Rafferty and later "The Castle". I saw him in multiple award winning British movies made in the 40's and 50's (of course I saw them in the '70's and 80's), including "The Desert Rats".

There are two roles I will remember him most fondly for, the first of which was a regular segment on "The Late Show" (also a Working Dog production) called "Charlie the Wonderdog" in which Bud played "Gramps", a funny old bloke whose dog could always avert a crisis, despite being visibly dragged along on a lead by the off-screen handler. The second, very poignant role was that of a bereaved husband in "Tulip" directed by Rachael Griffiths in the late '90's. This is a beautiful short film that clearly demonstrated Bud's empathy and humour.

Bud lived an amazingly rich life, a loving wife and family and a body of work that will continue to give joy and entertainment to many in the future. He will be sadly missed, but the thing I will remember most fondly about Bud is that even though he had received an Order of Australia and was a household name for as long as I can remember, he answered his own phone and said "yes" to some woman he didn't know from a bar of soap who called him 'out of the blue' and asked a favour. Now that's generosity!

You can read more about Bud by following the link: http://www.budtingwell.com.au/blog

The Tower of London........I came, I saw AND they let me leave!

2009-05-16T00:57:00.000+10:00

The Tower isn't just a goal, it's a royal village with a unique feel of it's own! My time spent wandering around the Tower of London was another unique experience. Given that it has over 6 million visitors a year, it retains the "vibe" of it's origins. The actual towers (where people like St. Thomas More and Anne Boleyn were locked up) are pretty sad, scary places. Many of them have retained the feeling of desperation and despondency that those imprisoned within the walls must have felt. There are carved names and Roman Catholic symbols in many of the walls (numbers of these etched by Jesuit prisoners), that are a stark reminder of the miserable lives people lived awaiting their ultimate fate (which was more than likely execution). On the green there is a memorial to people who were beheaded or hung and numbers of people who were buried in unmarked, unconsecrated grounds within the walls were exhumed and reburied in the Chapel Royal of St Peter and Vincula (including Anne Boleyn and Anne of Cleves) by Queen Victoria.

The Waterloo Block which houses the Crown Jewels is a sight to behold and there is a great display explaining the excavation and preparation of a number of the significant stones that are incorporated in some of the crowns (including the Cullinan 1 diamond and Koh-i-Noor among another 23,000 plus diamonds!). The Yeoman Warders (commonly called "Beefeaters") provide a great tour full on interesting information, wit and whimsy, but I found it immensely interesting that they have to be active armed forces personnel for 23 years and reach the highest rank (for an enlisted man) before they are eligible to apply for a position as a Yeoman Warder!

There is so much to see in the complex and I was lucky that currently there is an exhibition called, "Henry V111: Dressed to Kill", which comprises armour, weapons and sporting equipment that belonged to the famed Henry (including the worlds oldest soccerball, made from a pigs stomach wrapped in cloth). How those blokes walked around in all that chainmail and armour, I haven't a clue, let alone the poor horses who had to carry them in addition to being covered in their own armour from nuzzle to tail! I also found it surprising (even though it WAS the fashion of the day) that the suits of armour included an insitu codpiece! It reminded me of "Blackadder", in fact the whole time I was walking around The Tower of London, I was expecting to see "Baldrick" lurch around a corner, covered in filth on some errand for "Sir Edmund", but the closest I got was walking past a peasant asking a group of French high-school kids if they liked "blood and guts", the appropriate response to which, none of them seemed to know!

I once again showed my antipodean ignorance when I asked the Yeoman Warder why there were so many crows around on Tower Green (I thought it must be to do with people leaving around scraps of food from their lunches). To which he let out a hearty "HA.........you don't know your history girlie", which I must say I thought was a bit harsh, but I wasn't saying that to a man who had spent at least 23 years in the army! The "crows" it turns out are actually ravens (der!) the famous "Guardians of the Tower" who were protected (it is said) by Charles 11 and were seen as a good omen, in fact Charles is attributed with saying "If the ravens leave the Tower, the kingdom will fall........" So obviously everything is done to keep them happy, including having a "Raven Master" who looks after them (whatever that means) so that they won't WANT to leave!

I even saw a recreation of the bed of Edward 1 ("Longshanks"), the nemesis of William Wallace. He was called "Longshanks", not because he liked to eat the legs of sheep all lined up in a row, but because he had very long legs himself! In fact he was 6 foot 2 inches tall (they know this cause they opened his tomb and measured him). They say the bed was portable, as he had to take it everywhere with him. The bedroom recreation also has samples of the mattress, sheets, blanket, pillow and furnishings that you can touch....................sure am glad I didn't live in the 13th century cause there's no way I'd be able to sleep on one of those mattresses!

So the Tower was a great place to visit, and I've only given you a "sniff" of what it was like, but I have attached a few photos, so you can see some of the highlights (including one of 16C Jesuit graffiti, Baldrick look-alikes and "Longshanks" bed).

Of things Spiritual...................

2009-05-15T23:44:00.000+10:00

There's so much religious history in London. There are Churches of every persuasion, young, old and ancient, many of which I have always been eager to visit. One in particular is the Temple Church (and may I say, well before a certain novelist made it a "must see" for conspiracy theorists), which on my third attempt I found open. I had gone down to New Temple when I first arrived, walked around and sat in the gardens, but couldn't find the Church. The second time I actually found the Church, but it was closed (as the choir was practicing for a performance of Handel's Requiem (very apt!), so I sat on a concrete bench outside for a while and just listened. Finally I made sure I got there when it was open and I was so glad I did! Apart from the Knight's Tombs (which everyone makes a bee-line for), the leadlight windows are stunningly beautiful and I stood for ages just watching the sunlight move through them, transforming the floor into a multi-coloured tapestry of light. The nave of the church is beautiful, despite a number of "restorations" (including one beginning in 1678 by Christopher Wren). The "Round" is where most people focus their interest, because this is where the tombs are and surrounding the walls the "heads", originally made of Caen stone, but replaced in the 1820's (during yet another refurbishment), with heads made of Portland stone. They are truly ugly, one picking his nose, one having his ear chewed, others with horns and all with ugly grimaces.........it reminded of something Mum used to say when we "pulled faces" when we were kids, "If the wind changes you'll be stuck like that", I wondered if this was what happened to the poor models for these heads?

My spiritual quest has also included attending Evensong at both St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey. These are two absolutely amazing Anglican cathedrals, the architecture of each illustrating their original functions. Westminster Abbey is obviously a monastery church and a beautiful one at that! Walking around and seeing the burial site and memorials of Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Geoffrey Chaucer, Anne of Cleves, Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy, Sir Lawrence Olivier etc. is extremely moving. The building itself is in the process of being extensively restored and you can see the effects of the years on the architecture, but you know, I actually like that!

My experience at St. Paul's was totally different. It wasn't being surrounded by the graves of so many eminent people that moved me, but the music of the place. There's something about the acoustics that makes you feel that you are "wrapped up" in the music of the choir, surrounded by angelic voices that make you feel weightless. My heart felt like it would explode.............it was absolutely awe inspiring! Afterwards I walked out onto the steps, just hoping I might see he "bird- lady", but alas, she was nowhere to be seen. Ah, well!

So I'd better get myself to Westminster Cathedral (the Roman Catholic cathedral) next before I'm excommunicated! But before that, it's off to the Tower of London for me (anyone notice the irony here???????)

Photos (from bottom up): 1. Temple Church 2: Westminster Abbey 3: St Paul's Cathedral

Churchill Trust U.K and British Museum

2009-05-15T23:02:00.000+10:00

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust in the United Kingdom I was lucky to meet with Major General Jamie Balfour CBE, Director General at the offices of the Trust here in London. Getting there was my first major challenge as it meant not only buying a ticket and getting on "the tube", but also changing stations midway through the journey (which was a little daunting). I must say, if you just get in among the crowd and allow yourself to be carried along by the throng, how easy it is to navigate the system! To be perfectly honest, I hardly had to think about it and any queries I had I just asked one of the very helpful people at the ticket box and was given simple instructions about platforms, directions and changes. I was stunned by how many trains come and go so regularly. I think the longest I waited on a platform was 3 minutes (a bit different from home). It was also really easy to get a seat! Even if there wasn't one when I first got in, by the first stop I was sitting comfortably reading my book like a local!

Jamie was very welcoming and informative, advising me that he had been visited by Mike White (a fellow 2008 Fellow) only a week before. The U.K Fellowship program works a little differently from the Australian program, but I was interested to know about the achievements of some of the past U.K recipients.

After leaving the Trust offices, I headed to the British Museum (another couple of trains, but I was really getting the hang of it by now)........boy, I really should have allocated a week to look around the museum alone! What an amazing collection of gigantic things, statues, columns, tombs from Egypt, Greece, Asia........all over the place really. I had to elbow people out of the way to get a good look at the Rosetta Stone, but it was just as awesome as I had always imagined. I think I took about 360 photos at the Museum alone, but interestingly the building itself is equally as impressive as the exhibits. It's a bizarre feeling walking around among treasures from antiquity, it makes you feel so small and insignificant and yet at the same time so much a part of EVERYTHING! I guess that's the "unified field" for you!

I must admit, I did show my ignorance (quite proudly) by asking one of the information people where the English history displays were (seeing I'd walked for miles and seemed to be getting no closer to anything from iron age, dark age or medieval Britain). The lady said "oh you're looking fro room 46", and I guess I was! So I made my way, back through the noisy throngs of school kids, up the great marble staircase and wondered thru Roman Britain, Iron and Bronze Age and Medieval Britain (of course I did it all out of order........I'm not too good at following signs), looking at jewellery, pottery and ceramics, weapons etc. until I came across a small case that contained a real gem. It was the wax death mask of Oliver Cromwell! I must have stood there for ages, just looking at it.......it was so amazing, I just kept waiting for the eyes to open and for him to say, "Welcome to the British Museum madam".

After I tore myself away from Mr. Cromwell, I went down and walked through the Living and Dying exhibition which displayed ritual clothing and accouterments used by diverse historic and contemporary communities to celebrate life and memorialise those who have died (see I am keeping on message!)

By this time my feet were blistered, my shoulders were aching, so it was off to the pub for dinner and then home to bed, ready for another day of exploration and education.

"They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace, Christopher Robin went down with Alice"

2009-05-13T08:32:00.000+10:00

I believed A.A. Milne but when I arrived at Buckingham Palace, there was no Christopher Robin and no Alice! My walk down to the Palace though was weird, I kept seeing all these names of places I had been building little green houses and red hotels on for years! Of course there was no "Molly Carlile Hotel" on Regent Street, Oxford Street, Pall Mall or the Strand.......so no collection of rent, no pass "Go" and collect $200 (bummer, I could do with it!) It's just extraordinary to walk around and look up at these street names I have known since I was a child and see them in reality. I walked for miles today (in fact am absolutely exhausted), to Temple complex, along Victoria Embankment, to Whitehall, past 10 Downing Street and on up to Parliament Square via St James Park. I also went to the museum of my benefactor, Winston Churchill and visited the Cabinet War Rooms. The Churchill Museum is spectacular and the War Rooms really give you a feel for what it must have been like stuck down there under "the slab" scouring over maps and planning strategy while bombs rained down on the city. It all gives you a really good insight into Winston the man, I must say there are a number of really funny quotes included in the exhibition, so I gather he was a bit of "stirrer" in his few moments of respite. After spending quite some time with Winston, I headed off up Birdcage Walk to Queen Victoria Monument and Buckingham Palace. By this time, I must admit, I was a bit weary (hence why I may have missed seeing CR and Alice), however was soon shaken from my "tracked out" state, by a lovely young guy from Belgium who was with a group of friends and their teacher. He asked me if I would put on a hat they had made and have my photo taken in front of the monument.......it was part of their media course. "Sure" I said, then asked them what it was about. They laughed and then told me that they had to make a "Queenly" hat and then convince some passerby to put it on for a photo! I WONDER WHY THEY PICKED ME????? Maybe he saw my previous effort on the Blog and thought I was impressive? Seriously, this whole getting dressed up like the Queen thing is getting a bit scary! I agreed to do it (cause I'm a nice accommodating sort of person, (plus I don't think they understood a word I said,so there was not point arguing) but a note to all.........this is my "swan song", I won't be dressing up in any sort of royal regalia at any time in the future! I have officially retired from impersonations of any kind (for the time being anyway).

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. From Buckingham Palace, back down The Mall to Admiralty Arch, past Nelson's Column (which seemed to be following me all day), past the Coliseum, St Martin in the Fields (where they often do "Songs of Praise"....bet you wonder how I know that?!) and then to Covent Garden (in keeping with my fixation with Charles Dickens, by this stage I found myself humming, "ya gotta pick a pocket or two boys" alternating with "feed the birds, tuppence a bag"...........) a bizzare mix I'll give you that! To truly get into the spirit of things, for some reason I started calling everybody "luv", amazing the impact of childhood stereotypes, when you want to feel like you belong somewhere. By this stage my feet were blistered, I was tired and hungry, so what better way to get the energy to make it back to Bloomsbury, but to stop at a pub and have a nice cold lemonade???!!! I don't remember much about the walk back as I was so tired I just marched all the way back to the hotel (of course stopping to look at Freemason's Hall on the way). I collapsed into bed with my head full of pictures and sounds and my camera groaning with the volume of photos saved in the memory card and that was my first full day in London.

Don't think it's all just fun and frolicks though.......I did work today, for as Eliza Doolittle would say, "I'm a good girl I am!", but I'll tell you all about that in the next entry as it's been another full on day and I'm ready to "hit the hay", but before I go, the wonderful Jane Fennessy from Blue Vapours has added a comment option to the Blog, so for those of you who don't have time to send me an email, you can simply leave me a note in the comment box (be mindful I can choose whether to delete it or not, so be nice!)

London is "a buzzin"!

2009-05-13T08:12:00.000+10:00

London cold????? No way! I arrived in London after a long flight from the U.S, gathered my bags and walked out of Heathrow bracing myself for an icy wind and grey, miserable sky and guess what? First I took off my coat, then my scarf, then my cardi.........(don't worry, I stopped at the teeshirt) and I was still hot! Who said London is dull, cold and gloomy? Lucky for me I had booked a shuttle transfer to my hotel in Bloomsbury and there were number of other people on the bus who got dropped off first, so I got a free tour around town before I'd even checked into my hotel! (well it wasn't actually free, but I could have been dropped off first and seen nothing). Spent a relatively quiet day unpacking and wandering around the local area getting my bearings. Found a nice pub and sat outside for an early dinner before heading back to bed. I couldn't work out why my face felt tight, until I looked in the mirror and saw I was sunburnt!!!! Me? I'd just come from 25-35 C in North Carolina and Florida and then got burnt in London, "I don't believe it!!"

Must mention I'm staying just up the road from the home of my favourite British author. Imagine my delight as I walked down the street to find a plaque to Charles Dickens, the voice of the ordinary people! Wow this place is cool! I wonder when there will be a plaque on the home of my favourite Australian playwright? Mmmmm, wonder who that could be (hint, his photo is below)!

My amazing friend Alan Hopgood as "Clarrie" in Four Funerals in One Day

2009-05-13T08:04:00.000+10:00

Plays all over the place! While I was at the theatre with Cathy watching "Shipwrecked" in Florida, "Four Funerals in One Day" (sometimes known as "Four Footprints") was playing in my hometown and surrounds. It was great to hear that it went so well with bucket loads of people turning out to performances across Gippsland. I must admit I was really sad I couldn't be there, particularly at the Leongatha and Wonthaggi shows, but wanted to make sure my thanks go to all who organised the tour, my dear friend Alan Hopgood and the wonderful cast Michelle Hall, Jenny Seedsman, Margot Knight and the ever vigilant production manager Erin Prater, Anthony Hooper, Consortium Manager for Gippsland Region and my mate Mandy Geary (who spent many a sleepless night counting ticket sales, wine bottles and blocks of cheese). Would love to do a reprise when I get home! Thanks also to my brother Matt who sent me this wonderful photo!

TOODLE PIP UNITED STATES... THANKS FOR HAVING ME!

2009-05-12T05:51:00.000+10:00

A few random shots that were too good not to upload.

A stack of frisky butterflies!

2009-05-12T05:30:00.001+10:00

Oh how I love butterflies! Thought you might like to share my experience?

Last day at Shands, "Clowning around"

2009-05-12T04:51:00.000+10:00

My last day at Shands saw Paula Patterson push me well beyond my comfort zone! The day started easily enough, after meeting and talking about our common ideas and issues around grants, programs and the future of arts in health with Kris Sullivan, I joined the rest of the AIM team for their weekly "Artist Rounds". This was a wonderful opportunity to meet members of the team I hadn't met to date and to listen to their reflections on the work they had been doing with patients during the week. All of the artists use this meeting as a peer support and mentoring opportunity as well as a time for critical reflection and planning. I was thrilled that Tina invited me to talk about our work in the North and West Metro Region Palliative Care Consortium, the Churchill Trust and my Fellowship and of course I took the opportunity to "plug" "Four Funerals in One Day" and "Jelly Bean's Secret" (when you're given the floor you need to make the most of it!). The team were all very interested in all of the above and conversations continued during lunchtime in the garden. It was then that I had to put "professional me" in the cupboard for an hour as I walked around the hospital dressed as a "goofy" waiter with Paula and one of her volunteers, handing out chocolates to staff in celebration of International Nurse's Week. I must say it was WAY beyond my comfort zone, particularly walking into the nurses stations impersonating the John Cleese "silly walk" (all part of the routine, I'm told). I must say I never realised that "clowning" was such a serious business! But I think I'll leave it to the professionals in the future, I don't think I'd make a very good living if I had to depend on my clowning skills.

After my clowning performance, the pace changed somewhat as I spent some time with Nancy Lasseter looking at the mind/body renewal program.......far more my speed, especially sitting on the massage chair as I really needed it by then! Nancy runs a great program where staff can book in for a massage in addition to providing yoga, meditation and guided visualisations. Most impressive. Finally I met the Palliative Care CNS, who I had a long chat with (and I hope I convinced to come and visit us in Melbourne).

My stay at Shands @UF Arts in Medicine sadly finished and I said goodbye to a stack of new friends with whom I know I'll keep in touch in the future. I was so grateful for their generosity, their honesty and their interest in my work. All in all I have met some wonderful people in the U.S, in Buffalo, North Carolina and now in Florida and I know I've established relationships that will be ongoing in addition to learning heaps about how others use the arts in a mainstream health facilities.

I finished my Shands visit with a night at the theatre and funnily enough, the play, "Shipwrecked" was about a French born Englishman "Louis de Rougemont" who ran away to sea and (of course) was shipwrecked somewhere off the coast of Australia. How much of his story was true and how much delusional, we never found out, but it was most entertaining and I am very grateful to Cathy DeWitt, who took me along as her guest. Also funny, at the reception prior to the performance (for the local PBS radio station), I met a woman and her husband who'd lived in Melbourne for 10years, she taught in Ascot Vale and he in Broadmeadows and they lived in Carlton (right by Princes Park), it sure is a small world!

Before I packed my bag to head to London, the lovely Madeline took me out to the Harn Museum, where I not only saw some wonderful art, some gigantic skeletons and a great floral art competition, but got to spend time in the "butterfly house"..........just my sort of place, extremely hot and humid, lush and filled with colourful flying things.........AH, HEAVEN!

So "toodle pip" United States, thanks for having me...........it's been a ball!

Patchwork, featuring Cathy DeWitt

2009-05-10T01:45:00.001+10:00

Entertaining patients, family and staff!

On to music and literary arts

2009-05-10T01:14:00.000+10:00

My second day at Shands started very early, visiting the adult Dialysis Unit with the wonderful Madeline Austin. It's so obvious the joy these patients get from the work Madeline does with them. Some of them have been coming to the unit three to four times a week for dialysis for over 20 years! Madeline does a variety of visual arts based projects with the patients and the ward is decorated with cranes the patients have been folding in addition to making cards, writing personal reflections and decorating Madeline's funky stuffed gloves on a stick ( I guess you had to be there!). From there I went with Mary Lisa to the paediatric Dialysis Unit, where she was working with the kids on a variety of different projects. I must say the kids I met were all amazing artists.........their drawing and painting skills were very impressive! In addition they were a really friendly bunch of kids who seemed to enjoy the fact that I "talk funny"!

Lunch was in the Wilmot Healing Gardens where Cathy DeWitt (Musician in Residence) and her band "Patchwork" entertained an audience of patients, staff and carers. This provides a great opportunity for people to get out of the hospital and relax amongst the trees, with some great music and just reconnect with nature........a rare opportunity for some of them. After the concert Cathy took me over to AGH, which is another campus of Shands, but was originally the local community hospital. Here I met Barbara Esrig (Writer in Residence) and we talked a lot about her Oral Histories program........something very close to my own heart! The three of us spent some time with an extraordinary patient who is an author and poet and who entertained us by reciting a very moving poem he had written and then talked about his own personal story..........people really amaze me sometimes......how talented they are and how ready to tell their stories, all they need is someone to listen!
Barbara showed me the AGH history installation she had put together, which documents the development of the site from its beginnings and we talked a lot about the importance of history and legacy......a woman of my own heart!

My day finished with a trip to the Farmers Market, downtown and then I met up with Mary Lisa, her husband Lance, Cathy, Annie and her hubby Keith and Barbara for a lovely relaxing dinner and a couple of wines at a local Japanese restaurant. A fitting end to another extraordinary day. Photo of Barbara at the AGH History installation. Photo 2 of Barbara, Anne, me and Mary Lisa at dinner.

Ceiling tiles in the Paediatric areas

2009-05-10T01:08:00.000+10:00

One of these amazing kids even painted a tile with and Egyptian theme focused on Isis....amazing!

The funkiest lift waiting areas you will see!

2009-05-10T01:03:00.000+10:00

A couple of photos of the wonderful mosaics and the decorated ceiling tiles that are installed in all of the paediatric areas (including NICU), all painted by the kids!

My adventures in Florida

2009-05-10T00:31:00.000+10:00

Florida is a real place of contrasts! It's bizarre that the weather is so very hot and yet you go inside and freeze because all of the buildings are icily air conditioned (at least to me). Florida is an amazing place though. I've spent a wonderful few days with the Shands @ University of Florida Arts in Medicine (AIM) team, who are an amazing bunch of people doing extraordinary work. My first day I was instructed to meet Tina Mullen, the Program Director by the "Healing Wall" in the foyer of the hospital. Wondering if I would miss the spot (the campus is absolutely enormous!), I walked in thru the main entrance and there I was, facing this absolutely amazing tiled wall, made up of individual hand painted tiles, that had been created by the AIM team and patients. It gave the entrance such an aura of peace and reflection, even in the face of people rushing about (as happens in hospitals). As I sat there waiting for Tina (I was early..........you better believe it!) I watched as people stopped and looked, some momentarily, some for a few minutes and some people actually sat down and studied the contributions that make up the wall.

The Healing Wall sets the tone for much of the visual art displayed throughout the hospital and more impressively, the works are created by partnerships between patients and the AIM artists in residence. As Mary Lisa Kitakis Spano (the Artist Coordinator) is a visual artist and builds amazing mosaics, there are mosaic installations everywhere..........I've never seen such beautiful lift waiting areas, all decorated with mosaics of different materials, telling different stories and honoring the partnership between patients, artists and health professionals, that is integral to a healthy hospital environment. I was so fortunate to spend time with Mary Lisa and Sibet doing an art workshop in the paediatric unit and loved watching the sheer joy on the faces of these very sick kids as they focused intently on painting their canvases. Tina, Kris Sullivan and the lovely Jill Sonke took me out for lunch (which was a real treat) and this gave me an opportunity to talk to them all about the history and scope of the AIM program at Shands. It was great to catch up with both Jill and Kris as they were the ones who facilitated my visit, so I'm very grateful to them! Later in the day, Adria Klausner took me to the Mother/Baby Unit where I got to see her working at the bedside with mums who may spend the bulk of their pregnancies in the hospital. She helps engage them in all sorts of art and craft activities and carries all of her gear around on an "art cart", so everything is very portable. Finally I met Paula Patterson, the Dramatist in Residence (who is also very persuasive........more about that later) who took me to the very top of the hospital and toured me around, demonstrating her bedside artwork with patients. I must say I was exhausted when I got back to the hotel........I think I walked a million miles, but at the time I didn't really notice, because the beauty of the work surrounding me on the walls, on the ceilings and in the lift waiting areas, totally distracted me......I understand why this has such a positive impact on the patients......and staff! Photo of the Healing Wall

Fried Green Tomatoes.........oh yeh!

2009-05-05T06:42:00.000+10:00

You probably all know my favourite movie is "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe" Well, I don't have a clue where Whistlestop is, but I found FGT's at Harry's Cafe and Grill in Gainesville, Florida and I must say, they were awesome! No wonder old "Ms Thredgood" loved them so much. Luckily I had a very helpful waitress who explained how to make them, so watch out everyone at home, I'll be frying them up as soon as I get home!
BY THE WAY.........am yet to receive a single email from home. Just letting you all know! I even listened to the Hilltop Hoods today, and that wasn't even enough, so get "tapping" you guys!

Foyer of Duke Medical Centre

2009-05-05T06:33:00.001+10:00

The Duke Medical Centre foyer is amazing! Atrium, fountain and grand piano.

Sam Morrison and me, Betty Haskin

2009-05-05T06:18:00.000+10:00

Health Arts Network at Duke

2009-05-05T04:59:00.000+10:00

The Health Arts Network at Duke (HAND) program.......wow! Well I spent a couple of days with Olivia Woodford, Betty Haskin, Sam Morrison, Grey Brown, Jessica Blaustein and performers of the HAND team at Duke University Medical Centre and was extremely impressed with the extent of their programs, given as with all arts programs, they manage to achieve so much on a limited budget. Betty took me on a tour of the hospital, which I must say is ENORMOUS (924 acute beds/19 psych beds and planning to build more!) The architecture of the place is really interesting. Given that the original hospital building I visited was built in 1925, the rest of the development has been very well designed and though the buildings are all different, they seem to complement each other. The site is huge, in fact it's like a self contained city and encompasses not only the acute hospital but two large outpatients clinics, a big paediatric unit and clinics, plus the university schools of medicine, nursing etc. Needless to say I got more exercise in two days, than if I'd walked around the MCG ten times!
From the moment you enter the huge entry atrium (including a waterfall), the arts surround you, from the beautiful grand piano in the foyer (that anyone is welcome to play, in addition to the scheduled musicians) to the installations that include sculptures, textiles and paintings. Betty took me to the "Touchable Gallery", which has an amazing variety of exhibits that visitors are encouraged to touch (hence the name of the gallery!) Most of the artwork is commissioned and therefore meets the "healing" mission of the HAND program. Throughout the hospital there is an extraordinary amount of visual art, some of which is in semi permanent installations, others are part of focused thematic exhibitions. Sam took me on a tour of the exhibits and told me about how they are developing an electronic database for the collection..........he also dropped me off at the Chapel for a 1/2 hour guided meditation, then off to look at the "Martin Luther King Jnr." exhibit. Sam sure know his way around the place (thank goodness or I would have been lost a million times). There is an amazing collection of children's art that covers the walls along the hallways that lead to the paediatric units. The thing I found the most impressive about the visual art displays, was not just that all of the work was original, but that it was well framed, well hung and well lit! A far cry from the recycled old impressionist prints we often see hanging crookedly on walls in big hospitals! I was also able to walk along with Steven, one of the performance artists as he walked from patient room to room playing the guitar and singing........a terrific initiative and the patients really got into his performance, some singing along, some clapping or just watching him intently as he played. HAND has quite an extensive performing arts program and Jessica gave me a great overview of the performances they have planned for the courtyard space over the summer.

The literary arts program is also inspiring. I spent time with Grey Brown who conducted a journalling session in the Psychiatric Unit which I was very lucky to be a part of. The impact of this 90 minute session on the patients was extraordinary. They created poems, reflections and prose during the session that I was fortunate they were happy to read aloud at the end. It was extremely moving and I am grateful they allowed me to participate.
I saw so much in my two days at Duke and even managed an unscheduled visit to Joanna Parker at the Bereavement Department. Thanks to Florence Nash (who I met at the Literary Roundtable- where reading aloud is celebrated and practiced), I also got to meet Carl Weisner the Director of the Duke School of Divinity, which was a nice way to finish my placement as he and I had a long discussion about the impact of spirituality on health and the how we do things in Palliative Care in Australia around holistic care, which was great.........I finished off talking funding with Olivia and I must say this is the ongoing constant for us all.......getting the dollars and getting as much as we can for the amount of dollars we have!

So, that's it from North Carolina, I had a wonderful stay, saw heaps of interesting history and got a glimpse into the future. Ate my first "Buffalo wings" (which I really should have eaten in Buffalo) and my first "crab cakes", finally found out what "grits" are (though I didn't try them) and met lots of friendly southern folks, including Elisha who worked at the hotel. A BIG thanks to Now off to Florida.

Hillsborough Cemetery

2009-04-30T07:01:00.000+10:00

Don't forget I've been away for nearly 2 weeks so could really do with a few emails from home. Just hit the "Send Molly an email" tab on the right and drop me a line!

Duke Homestead Tobacco Factory

2009-04-30T06:56:00.000+10:00

This place looks a little different from its contemporary equivalent!

Looking around Durham

2009-04-30T06:19:00.000+10:00

Today I went exploring in Durham and Orange county I was again luck with a lovely cab driver today, Ezana from Ethiopia. He was very generous driving me all over the place and waiting for me to finish immersing myself in the vibe of each place before heading off to wherever else I wanted to go. I visited Bennett Place, where Generals Johnston and Sherman met to negotiate the largest surrender of the American Civil War. The timber on the buildings was amazing, but better still, they were doing an information session for some school kids so I tagged along and listened to the "pretend" Confederate and Union soldiers talk about how it was for the soldiers "on the ground". Then both guys loaded their "old school" guns and fired them......the noise was deafening! The soldiers were expected to be able to fire three times a minute and given they had to prime, ram and cock their guns before firing...this was a pretty big ask! I then headed off to "Duke Homestead and Tobacco Farm" the first tobacco farm in this area (which made the Duke family a lot of money). The homestead is now owned by state of North Carolina and I must say the site is beautifully maintained. It's incredibly quiet (apart from the birds singing in the trees) and as there weren't many people around I felt like I was walking around in the 1860's, a lovely gentle feeling about the place that was augmented by the undulating landscape, green pasture and surrounding forest. I'd sort of forgotten what green grass is like (given it's been so dry at home), so I took off my shoes and walked around in the paddock (I guess I should say field) in my bare feel, which was a real treat. Finally I headed to the Orange County Museum, which was quite a drive from where I'm staying. The museum itself was pretty small, but out the back was an amazing cemetery filled with gravestones from the American Revolution and beyond (it was established in 1757). Those of you who know me well, know how much I love spending time wandering around cemeteries immersing myself in the stories that lie there, just beneath the ground. Some of these headstones were huge and some tiny. Some remembered people who died as elders, others as wee children (one little fellow was only nine hours old), but the wonderous thing about the place was it's peace and tranquility, though just behind the main street of Hillsborough, it was quiet, green and had a gentle energy about it. The thing that impressed me the most........there was a children's playground (belonging to the Presbyterian Church) in amongst the graves. Wow.........an organisation on my wavelength! It was a shame that the kids weren't there today, but I've attached a photo so you can see how inspired the idea is! That's it for now, I'm off to Duke University tomorrow and sure I'll have heaps to relay in my next entry!

Mr. Moe , Christian and Margret the Aussie

2009-04-29T06:04:00.000+10:00

I've been so lucky with the people I've met so far! The folk at the Society for Arts in Healthcare were wonderful! I met up with a fellow Aussie, Margret Meagher who is organising an Arts in Health conference in Australia for November this year in Port Macquarie at the Glasshouse. Margret has managed to "snaffle" a number of 'movers and shakers" in arts and health to present at the conference including Naj Wikoff, Mike White and others. I'm hoping Sandra Bertman will also come (and maybe we can find her an appletini!) Of course "Four Funerals in One Day" is also playing at the Australian conference so people who attend will get a chance to meet my gorgeous friend and playwright Alan Hopgood and the wonderful cast (who are always so giving of their time)!
In addition to meeting the board of SAH, I met the Chair, Jill Sonke (who I will spend some time with in Florida next week) and Betty Haskin who I am meeting with at Duke University in Durham later this week). I don't want you to think it was all work and no fun, cause those arts people sure know how to party. I saw a wonderful performance from Julia Sweeny titled, "God said Ha" (Julia used to be on Saturday Night Live here in the U.S). The one woman show was at the University of Buffalo.I also met an expat French artist (he's actually from Brittany) who lives in New York, loves fine food and has a real taste for cognac, Christian Le Gars. I must say, as all good Frenchmen, Christian was a bad influence........."there's always room for one more cognac"! His work is amazing......intericate prints and watercolours. He uses copper plates to engrave his prints that are so detailed, it takes him weeks to just prepare the plate before he can start the printing. I must say it inspired me to start painting again (in my spare time!!!!)

Now to Mr Moe. When I wanted to go up to the falls, the guy at the hotel said he'd get me a set price taxifare (otherwise you can get to the other end and be up for heaps!). So I said "great" and half an hour later "Mr Moe" arrived. A happy, jovial, extremely informative man who couldn't do enough to help me. He drove me around Buffalo and showed me the sights en-route to the Falls, found out how I could get over to Canada and left me at the entrance with his number to call when I was ready to come back to town. So I did my thing at the falls and gave him a call on his mobile when I was heading back over the bridge. I waited in the appointed spot and he was there in no time. On the way back to the hotel we talked as he drove me past places he thought I'd be interested in (of course he asked me if I was in a hurry first). He was happy to stop outside old buildings so I could take photo's and filled me in on the history of Buffalo. I think I learned more from Mr. Moe than anyone else I met (about Buffalo, I mean). Then the next day he picked me up to go to the airport to fly here to Durham. I told him I had plenty of time, so he took me to the War Memorial and past some of the churches I'd missed the day before. He was happy to sit and wait while I looked around and then filled me in on all the details when I hopped back into the car. What a nice man! It can be a scary thought travelling in countries you don't know, but when you meet up with a genuine man like Moe who just wants to chat, show you his town and make your stay a good one, it makes you feel really grateful for the goodness in human nature. So anyone heading to Buffalo..........hail Moe and he'll look after you (email me and I'll give you his number). All round to date I've been lucky, Moe, Christian, Bonnie, Meg, Margret, Sandra, Naj, Stuart, Killie, Betty, Joan et al you made my stay on Buffalo extremely memorable! Now for the next step.........on to Durham. Over and out (oh by the way, missing home and family and all the gang at NWMRPCC.........and my state wide palliative care pals, but will have lots of info to bring home). Carpe diem!

Photo of Moe "the guy in Buffalo who knows where to go!'

Niagara Falls and Molly goes to Canada!

2009-04-29T05:33:00.000+10:00

Even though Canada wasn't on my itinerary, I crossed the bridge! It was actually very easy to cross over from the U.S into Canada. I'd always seen Niagara Falls on telly and thought it looked pretty good, but had some reservations. I'm so glad I went! It was truly amazing and the sculptured gardens and walkways on the Canada side were beautiful! The metaphysician in me really connected to the movement of the water, the foam and froth and the water spirits who you could see quite clearly if you looked hard enough. I was astounded when the boarder immigration man told me that only 25% of the water now goes over the falls as 75% is diverted to the hydro plant. I tell you, you wouldn't want to fall into that water......apart from it being FREEZING, it's so rough........all white water and there are memorials everywhere to people who have drowned trying to save others who have fallen in! Needless to say I hung onto the rails and NEVER got too close to the edge (my beloved would never forgive me if I ended up on the U.S news for being dragged from the falls as a water-soaked, irresponsible Aussie!)On my way back to wait for the wonderful Mr. Moe (more about him later) to pick me up, I heard a rustle in the bushes and looking closer saw my very first squirrel! I spent ages sitting on the grass with them running around me, stopping, looking and then chasing each other up and down trees..........it was truely wonderful! So if you get a chance, go and see the Niagara Falls and spend some time in the nature reserve on the U.S side and you too may be able to play with a bunch of squirrels!

Me engrossed in my meditative artwork!

2009-04-29T05:25:00.000+10:00

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Society for Arts in Healthcare Conference

2009-04-29T04:38:00.001+10:00

So it wasn't all dry research at the conference, we had fun too!. There were some amazing presentations and keynotes on everything from healing architecture to managing the "silo's" in health care, role delineation and creation of true interdisciplinary approaches. It seems that world wide we are still struggling with the issues around silos of disciplines, whether they be health or arts disciplines. In my view, we just need to get over ourselves and start working together for the good of our patients.........it doesn't matter if it's the doctor, nurse, music therapist or artist in residence that the patient chooses to talk to, so long as all our patients have an opportunity to talk to SOMEBODY on the team and have their fears and concerns addressed. I always thought that was what interdisciplinary care was all about.......looking after the WHOLE person, and working together as a team, supporting each other...........but maybe that's just me being niave? I hope not!

On a different note, I have met some wonderful people over the past few days. People from a range of backgrounds doing wonderful, innovative things to improve the lives of their patients. Programs incorporating residential artists working in dementia units, arts programs in paediatrics, creating healing spaces........buildings that actually encourage health and relaxation, use of gardening programs, the arts in psychiatry, spirituality and the arts, poetry and storytelling. WOW, it has really been exhillirating! There was so much wonderful stuff, but I must say, the process of creating my own mask (picture attached) was fantastic, however it left me with a problem.......how could I get it home (as plaster is just a little delicate), so I wasa talking to a lovely girl who worked at the hotel who did voluntary art support in her daughters school, so I gave her my mask and so I'll leave a little of myself in Buffalo!
Before I sign off I must add that I did two amazing workshops, one on storytelling with Fran Yardley which for me (with my counselling hat on) challenged some of the focused story interventions that have been past practice and gave me an insight into not only the capacity of us to change the impact of our personal stories but the facts attached to them, and that was really liberating. I also did a marvellous workshop with Lisa Horlien from Niagara Falls Memorial Medical Centre, that involved a guided meditation followed by a practical art expression exercise. Given that there were about thirty people in the workshop, once the meditation was complete and people began to work on their art pieces, you could hear a pin drop! Noone spoke for the remaining hour plus of the workshop as they were all so focused on representing their meditative experience thru their art. I must say I was oblivious to what was going on around me.......a truly cathartic experience!
The conference finished with a lunch and concert. A classical performance by Len Horovitz followed by an amazing band called Babik who played sort of gypsy swing music. Half way through the set, the guitarist and vocalist (Stuart Fuchs) pulled out a didge, and I must say my hackles went up a little (never been real keen on non Aboriginal men playing the didge, especially if they don't "get" the sacred nature of the experience for all)..........but I must say, my apprehension was soon soothed as Stuart performed a wonderful piece and was extremely respectful of the process. Even though I'd only been away from home for a week and a bit I actually got a bit teary!!! It drew me back home........it still is the "wide brown land for me". Stuart hopes to visit Australia in the near future, so I'd love to hook him up with my friend Jeremy Donovan so he can get a real feel for the Aboriginal culture. But that's another long story, for now I'll sign off. Tomorrow I'm off to North Carolina.

Society for Arts in Healthcare Conference starts

2009-04-24T07:09:00.000+10:00

Well I'm into day two of the SAH conference here in Buffalo. Had a great day yesterday hearing about how people have created partnerships to get their arts projects and hospital programs up and running. Had a great evening with the grief and loss guru, Sandra Bertman on Tuesday night and we both indulged in our first "appletini" which for those of you who watch "Scrubs" will know is "J.D"'s favourite drink, but BOY it packs a punch! It was fantastic to have Sandra to myself for the evening and we talked a lot about the similarities and differences in provision of bereavement services and grief and loss education between Australia and the U.S. Today's presentations have been many and varied, but was inspired by Shaun McNiff who spoke about mainstreaming arts programs and education and I had a chat to him about "Four Funerals". I'm very impressed with the range and scope of projects and programs running here in the U.S. Some health services have artists in residence working with both adults and kids, which is something I'd love to explore further with my palliative care pals when I get home. I had lunch today with the "Spirituality Special Interest Group" and was able to boast about the work we have done in the North and West via our "Who Am I?" resource (well I didn't really boast, but people were very interested). I'm off tonight to a reception and theatre performance, so will have heaps to add to the next entry. In the meantime the temperature has started to warm up, today it was about 7 celcius, but is supposed to get up to the high teens by the end of the week. Photo is of Sandra Bertman and I with our "appletini's"!

The M & T Bank building, Buffalo

2009-04-21T04:25:00.000+10:00

The M & T Bank in Buffalo.

Arrived in Buffalo

2009-04-21T03:48:00.000+10:00

After 24 hours in a plane I finally have my feet back on the ground! Well it's been a long and arduous journey to go from one side of the world to the other! I left Melbourne at 10 am and arrived in Buffalo New York at 1230 am the same day, even though I'd been travelling for over 24 hours.........how bizzare! No wonder I got into bed and slept for a solid sixteen hours, in fact the only reason I woke then was because the phone rang! The weather has been a bit of a shock too. I thought it was cold at home as the temperature in Melbourne had dropped to 16-18 degrees C, well here it is about 2 degrees celcius, pouring rain and a howling wind that cuts a hole in you as you walk don the street! The people however are very friendly and I met a number of fellas who are here on a seminar who filled me in on some of the local history and we had a great chat about the importance of personal stories, so its great to know that other people are as interested as I am in people's stories. I hope to head off to Niagara Falls tomorrow so will have some photos to upload next time round. In the meantime, here's a photo of the M & T Bank building that has a dome of guilded 23-27 carat gold leaf, that cost $500,000 to restore in 1998, more than the cost of the original building!

The count down is ON!

2009-04-16T21:27:00.000+10:00

Finally the countdown is on to my departure on my Churchill Fellowship. The last few weeks have been incredibly hectic, what with finalising things at work and handing over what needs to be done for the North and West Metro Region Palliative Care Consortium to the incredibly efficient Kerrie Chambers (who will be picking up a load of work in my absence), in addition to packing, planning and quaffing in preparation for my departure! This last week has been particularly busy as we had a wonderfully successful performance of our play "Four Footprints (otherwise known as "Four Funerals in One Day") yesterday at the Hume Global Learning Centre in Broadmeadows, attended by around 100 local community members and last Sunday a wonderful "going away" party at our place in Inverloch. The party was rowdy and creative with all in attendance dressing in theme with the countries I am visiting on my Fellowship. We had ( among others) lots of cowboys, a Super Trouper, a porn star, the Statue of Liberty, Pamela Anderson (most impressive!), French painters and eccentrics, Moulon Rouge dancers, Dame Edna, Indiana Jones, a four month old prisoner from Alcatraz, a very attractive Druid priest and of course the Queen was in attendance (I must say, she was so convincing half of the attendees didn't realise it was me!)! But now I'm at the "pointy end" and sitting here typing away after making last minute alterations to newly acquired "cold weather" gear, with only the packing and the instructions about how to upload photos, skype and navigate international airports to go! So for now to you all it's au revoir and please keep in touch while I'm away. I hope to get a post up here every couple of days so you will all know what I'm up to, in the mean time, look after each other! Carpe Diem!, Molly
(The attached photo is of Queen Molly and my good friend Suzie (The gorgeous French woman)

Four Funerals thrills Mildura!

2009-04-01T15:04:00.000+11:00

“Four Funerals in One Day” played to an audience of over 200 people on March 6th 2009 on the opening night of the Mildura Arts Festival The performance organised by Bertilla Campbell and the team at Sunraysia Community Health Services Inc. and was generously supported by a number of service clubs and local businesses. Alan Hopgood and Molly Carlile facilitated a spirited Forum after the performance and the audience were then treated to a sumptuous supper accompanied by local wine and lots of community conversations. The cast mingled with the audience members well into the night, sharing laughs, experiences and anecdotes. A wonderful night was had by all and Bertilla and her team are to be congratulated on the success of the event. Amazing what an enthusiastic, passionate palliative care team can do with the support of their community!

The Churchill Tour Countdown is ON!

2009-03-25T10:43:00.000+11:00

Only three weeks to go until Molly heads off on her whirlwind tour of U.S, U.K and Ireland to see how the other side of the world do things! Keep up to speed with what Molly is doing and who she is seeing.

Four Footprints comes to the North West Region!

2009-03-11T09:59:00.000+11:00

Four Footprints, formerly known as Four Funerals in One Day, is touring the North and West Metropolitan Region on Wednesday April 15. In this short play about the importance of stories in palliative care, the writer Alan Hopgood, in conjunction with Molly Carlile, aims to raise awareness of end of life issues in our community. See the promotional flyer.

Four Funerals in One Day changes its name... or does it?

2009-03-05T10:23:00.000+11:00

Due to the extraordinary events in Victoria over the past weeks, some sensitivities were expressed about the name of the play. In order to extend the reach of the play by not offending those who may feel sensitive toward the original title, an alternative title has been developed. “Four Footprints… (the importance of stories in palliative care)”. The stories contained within the play have not changed, nor has the intent for it to be a source of discussion for communities about the lived experiences of palliative care, death, grief and loss. So it is up to individual communities which title they choose to use, both are equally appropriate to the content and intent of the play. An open letter from Alan Hopgood is attached for those interested in exploring the alternative title.

MC Molly Rules Utopia!

2009-03-05T10:04:00.000+11:00

Molly Carlile has been crowned MC of the upcoming 2009 Utopia Retreat. How will she rein in the amazing powers of Steven Farmer, Dean Frenkl, Michelle Brennan, Susan Coombes, Margz Gill, Simone Matthews et.al, while saving some magic of her own... for her Key Note Presentation – I am sorry, but you’re not grieving properly! and her workshop I don’t know what’s wrong with me! There's only one way to find out... get involved in Utopia 2009! In its second amazing year, the highly acclaimed and extraordinary ‘Utopia International Retreat’ is once again gathering world class speakers across many disciplines to educate, enlighten and encourage those committed to conscious living. Over two and a half magical days, these inspiring presenters will share their knowledge, wisdom and experience in a nurturing, learning environment.

Molly Awarded Churchill Fellowship!

2008-12-09T15:00:00.000+11:00

"I am absolutely delighted to inform you all about ‘our’ Molly Carlile and a Churchill Fellowship This is terrific news! Molly has been awarded a 2008 Churchill Fellowship to travel overseas and explore health promotion activities using the arts. Her project, “Using the arts to support community ‘death discussions’”, will allow her to explore how the arts are being used in health promotion activities internationally. Molly hopes to identify successful strategies that can be applied to encouraging Australian communities to discuss issues of death, grief and loss using the performance, visual and creative arts as the catalyst.

"The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust has a vision of “Rewarding Australians striving for Excellence” and awards Fellowships annually to successful applicants across a range of disciplines. Applicants undergo a rigorous submission and selection process. This year 120 Churchill fellowships have been awarded nationally, 25 in Victoria. Molly will be presented with her Churchill Fellowship by the Governor of Victoria, Dr. David de Kretser AC, on July 18th 2008 at Government House, and plans to commence her Fellowship by travelling next year to the United States, United Kingdom and Ireland.

"I am sure you will all join me to congratulate her, as it is a magnificent achievement."

Anne Oakley, Chairperson
North and West Metropolitan Region Palliative Care Consortium

See news reports.

Four Funerals in One Day

2008-12-09T14:35:00.000+11:00

Four Funerals in One Day is a short play about the importance and value of stories in palliative care. By Alan Hopgood In collaboration with Molly Carlile. Touring metropolitan, rural and regional Victoria in 2009. Book early to avoid disappointment!

Actors: Margot Knight, Alan Hopgood, Babs McMillan, Michelle Hall
Proudly sponsored by Palliative Care Victoria, North and West Metropolitan Region Palliative Care Consortium and Southern Metropolitan Palliative Care Consortium.

Synopsis
This play is based on true stories and it is the positive attitudes of the story tellers that allows this play to be both informative and an entertaining comedy.

Karen is a community nurse caring for her first dying patient. Clarrie has had enough of being a burden on his family and wants to die now. Vi is tired and bad tempered and wondering why she stays working in palliative care, particularly as she has her own problems at home and Sue is walking the fine line of acting as a mentor for junior staff and supporting a colleague who isn’t coping. Four Funerals in One Day is a performance piece that explores the human reality for patients and professional carers living and dying in palliative care.

Four Funerals in One Day had its world premiere at the 9th Australian Palliative Care Conference at the Melbourne Convention Centre on August 29th 2007. The impact of the play was tangible as the audience laughed loudly when they recognised elements of themselves and their colleagues in the characters. Many admitted later that they cried at times as well! The professional actors played their roles with empathy and humour and managed to hold the audience captive until the final curtain fell. Loud applause and long discussions followed.

Some of the responses from the 600 strong audience included:
• 98% thought the play was a good medium for delivering information
• 97% found the play entertaining
• 96% identified with issues in the play
• 83% agreed that the play raises issues that a general audience would understand
• 82% agreed that the play would raise awareness to assist palliative care workers

How can your organisation use “Four Funerals in One Day” to raise awareness of palliative care in your community?

With little infrastructure required, “Four Funerals in One Day” can be performed in local theatres, school or community halls, clubrooms or any venue that has a raised platform and access to basic lighting and sound systems. There are few props required and the actors provide their own costumes.

The basic cost for one performance of the play is $3500 (plus GST), plus transport and accommodation, if relevant.

For your investment you have access to a cast of highly reputable, professional actors who you will recognise from stage and screen. On completion of the performance Molly Carlile will Chair a community discussion of issues raised in the play which enables the hosting region to provide information about their local palliative care services to their local community.

The play runs for approximately 40 minutes, however with the following Community Forum, the performance can be tailored to suit the needs of the organiser to offer an extended programme. You might like to have a wine and cheese tasting or supper to accompany the Forum. The opportunities are only limited by your imagination!

It is suggested that organisations approach local businesses and service clubs to support the promotion of the play, provide a venue or donate goods. You could also charge an admission fee or ask for donations on entry. How you approach this is up to you.

“Four Funerals in One Day” will help your organisation to embrace Health Promoting Palliative Care in an innovative and creative way that both educates and entertains the audience.

How to bring Four Funerals in One Day to your town

Expressions of interest are now being accepted for the 2008 tour. Enquires can directed to Palliative Care Victoria or Bay Street productions by completing the following form and either faxing or emailing to:
info@pallcarevic.asn.au
alanhopgood@hotmail.com

Utopia

2008-12-09T14:31:00.000+11:00

Utopia is an international conference for awakening souls. The inaugural Utopia International Conference was held on August 22-24th 2008 in Noosaville, Queensland. The 2009 conference promises to be even better. Stay tuned for more information.

The Embassy at Pier 9

2008-12-09T14:08:00.000+11:00

The Embassy at Pier 9 is a groundbreaking initiative with the primary focus of raising community awareness and involvement in all aspects of spirituality.

The Embassy's mission and vision acknowledges the need in all people to feel connected to their spiritual self and to their community and aims to provide a range of opportunities for people to explore these aspects of themselves. Spiritual awareness is not necessarily linked to any formalised religious structures but involves awareness of the relationship we have with ourselves and others and how we create meaning in our lives.

The Embassy is currently negotiating to acquire space in the Central Pier precinct of Docklands, Victoria where it plans to establish a community space that provides a haven for people to explore all aspects of spiritual development and community relationships.

The Embassy plans to conduct courses, support groups, classes and discussion groups which focusing on:
•Community Building
•Health, well-being and fitness
•Spirituality
•Education & Leadership
and empower and embrace community organisations to become active in providing programs that address a demonstrated need in our community.

Ensuring that the space is all inclusive, the Embassy created at Docklandswill be a place where people from all faiths, backgrounds, cultures, traditions and social experiences can come together and learn, discuss, explore and connect.

Docklands is currently a dynamic developing area of central Melbourne that has the potential to become Melbourne’s heart. The Embassy’s vision is to ensure it has a soul.

If you would like more information on The Embassy, please contact Molly Carlile or Fr James Grant.

Chaplains Without Borders

2008-12-09T13:50:00.000+11:00

Chaplains Without Borders work with a range of organisations from corporations, such as banks or central offices, to semi-corporate organisations, like shopping centres or football clubs. We provide:

• Employee assistance and counselling services
• Training and wellbeing seminars
• Conflict management and mediation
• Leadership and Management Development
• Trauma and Serious Incident Management

Why a Chaplain?

Chaplains without Borders is an interfaith chaplaincy service that works across borders in two ways.

• Religious borders – our chaplains come from a range of different backgrounds. They’re not all priests, but all are interested in spirituality and the welfare of others.

• Borders of “Place” – Traditionally, chaplains have worked at hospitals or for military style organisations such as the army or police forces to provide counselling and spiritual guidance. But today there are a whole range of organisations that are looking for help, from major train stations, to banks and sports teams.

Each of our chaplains is trained in counselling and can give your people the keys to unlock their potential.

Find out more about the services we provide by exploring this site further or by contacting us directly at:
Email: frjames@keypoint.com.au
Mobile: 0425 721 962.

North and West Metropolitan Region Palliative Care Consortium

2008-12-09T12:41:00.000+11:00

This is my day job. The North and West Metropolitan Regional Palliative Care Consortium (N&WRPCC) is an alliance of specialist palliative care providers and was established in December 2004. It involves organisations that work in the community (caring for people in their homes), in acute settings (caring for people who are in a hospital) and in inpatient settings (providing care in a hospice or palliative care unit).

Jelly Bean's Secret

2007-12-09T17:08:00.000+11:00

"While loss is sad, loving is triumphant. Above all this is a story of hope and celebration of life."
Written by Molly Carlile—a leading grief and loss counsellor, educator and consultant — 'Jelly Bean's Secret' is the story of nine-year-old Abby and her very special Grandma. It is a story of the things they like to do together, especially finding treasures on the beach for their secret project.

Jelly Bean's Secret: A Review by Susan Joy Coombs

Just released, this book will be a treasure for all practitioners who work with children who have or are about to have, someone close die. It is also an educational aid for all children, so that the death process (which is a big part of life for all of us) can be approached before a crisis situation occurs.

Although aimed at helping children, it is also relevant for adults coping with the death of a loved one or a loss of any kind, such as job or career.

As I read the gentle and realistic story centred on Abbey and her Grandmother, Jelly Bean, I found tears welling up. A simple, loving and powerful exploration of the closeness they share and the circumstances and responses of the family to Jelly Bean’s death. The book looks at the way each person deals with her death, coloured with warmth and understanding, so that the personal grief each family member experiences is accepted and worked through freely.

For me, the book brought back memories of the anger and sadness I felt, when at seven, my father died and I was not allowed to go to his funeral or after gathering. It has taken years of working through layers of this for me to be able to let go of the sense of powerlessness I felt. This book would have been a wonderful resource for the adults (in my experience) who felt they were doing the right thing at the time and also for me, to work with.

The back section of the book contains a “Learning Tool” which outlines the theory of grief and loss and gives practical tips to help the reader gain a depth of understanding of children’s grief management. This is done by first outlining points about death and the process of grieving. It then goes on to suggest questions and responses relating to different parts of the story to help draw out discussion and encourage understanding.

Although I have only just read the book, I can see how it will be useful if I am presented with a child experiencing grief, and will give me confidence to approach and work in a compassionate and effective way.

Molly Carlile started her training as a nurse and has been working in Palliative Care and counselling for many years. Molly is a Reiki Master and ARC member. Her years of hands on experience combined with a dynamic and warm outlook, have been mixed up in a wonderful recipe for life, to create this book, a treasure for us to use in our practices as Reiki channels and in developing our life skills, generally. It is also enjoyable to read and beautifully illustrated by Caroline Marone.
At $12.95, it’s a gift to all.

Reviewed by Susan Joy Coombes, Naturopath and Reiki Master Teacher, ARC member
Publisher:- St Luke’s Innovative Resources
137 McCrae Street, Bendigo, Victoria, 3550. Ph 03 5442 0500
ISBN:- 1 920945 02 4