I was awakened too early this morning by the tradie's rudely loud radio and circular saw outside my window, and puppies scratching and crashing against the back door. I ricocheted outdoors seeking the solace of silence. I walked to Fairfield boathouse, cried on sight of the river, burned my tongue on chai, and then crept along the trail, almost wishing to slip and fall into the brown water.
Everywhere I went, there was the hum of traffic, sometimes escalating to a roar. And so I walked on. My solitude was broken by others walking the path and I railed against the intrusion on my nature time, until I recalled that humans too, are nature. Birds called my attention, but I could not escape the human impact of machinery and trucks upon my raw senses. Great trees loomed and drew me into awe. A currawong tore at bark seeking grubs underneath, my armour too being torn away.
Finally, after cutting across concrete streets on tender feet, I found myself on the Darebin creek trail and heard a bellbird call. And then another. And I noticed that the song of the creek was louder than the distant traffic.
And so I sat beneath a great gum, heart quiet and blessed with relief.
My gratitude to these places of green and these strong legs.
My gratitude to the impulse within me that knows what I most need, and the capacity to follow that impulse.
Chelle is a practicing art therapist, researcher, and multi-modal creative. She regularly dives into the unknown to discover what is ready to be born, deepening her trust in the abundantly creative source. For Chelle, art is a means to inquire, express, and transform. If offers the capacity to soothe, making space for new perspectives and ways of being.