A month ago today I was in Bali. I was lying in an ornately carved, four-post king size bed next to my favourite person on the planet, my best mate. We’re about to have our fifth full day in Ubud, we’re going to see a palm reader and healer. I am equally delighted by being a white lady spiritual cliche alongside my very real belief in magic. Over the past week I'd felt my body truly relax. There's space for calm breath, which I can feel fill my chest; my exhalations feel full of present promise. There is an ease in my energy. For a neurodiverse, creative chaos goblin, who is usually fuelled by equal measures of anxiety and excitement, this feels like welcome reprieve. I've relished every second of this holiday, one-on-one time is something my best and I haven't had together since we were in our mid-twenties, when it felt like the most important decision we had to make in a week was which Marks and Spencer’s dine-for-two-for-ten option we'd choose on a Friday night. The before times. Before the wild flames of the next fifteen years would forge us into the bold women with the blue first place resilience ribbons pinned to our fortified chests. The irony is that these women now know that softening these hardened edges through trusting themselves is the next lesson to learn.
Why does life harden us only to have us realise we need to soften?
Image Description: A selfie of Claire and Jacq in their togs, a rainforest behind them looking fucking delighter, they’re both laughing with their whole bodies.
The palm reader tells me many things but this is her final comment, "You need to braver, Claire. Be brave. Trust your intuition not your mind. Your mind is only for calculations and analysis. It is not the boss. Quiet your monkey brain because you know."
She knows I know.
The lines on my palms know I know.
The date of my birth knows that I know.
I know.
And yet at the exact same time I know nothing, because today nothing looks the same as it did on that Friday in Bali.
My relationship has ended in a way I never thought it would. I have to find somewhere new to live. I am officially divorced four years after separating, and we got to say things I never thought we would get to. My Dad, who lives overseas went to hospital in a terrifying fashion making the distance between us feel intergalactic. He's okay. He will be okay. In being pro-active with my health I've discovered more tests are required, and on Monday I discovered I no longer have a job I love because of a restructure, so the next six months suddenly have a sense of financial mystery about them.
And what I know is I'm okay.
Genuinely.
I am also heartbroken and stressed and confused and shocked and rattled and baffled and scared and anxious and fucking furious.
But I am okay.
Because in the past month I've also had the most incredible holiday, felt truly relaxed and got to spend the best week with my best mate. I've put on a show I love with an incredible group of young artists who I got to witness step into their artistry and begin to recognise their power. What a privilege. I feel buoyed and loved and seen by my community, who I know truly love me. I've felt clarity and a witness to things aligning and the magic of Bali in the timing of all of it. I've been part of beautiful panels at Brisbane Writers Festival and been reminded of what I love and what I want. I've trusted my gut and backed myself and been bold and made new connections that align with my future and the stories I want to tell. I've remembered my power and my agency. I've bought a cute new tracksuit. And on Wednesday I got to witness my second year acting cohort perform their one hour schools touring version of a Shakespeare play in Logan, a community that gifted me some of the best working and artistic experiences of my life. That changed me as a person, and solidified my politic and values. I got to speak from my heart about what I know about art and story telling to my students and watch them get it as they performed to a young, diverse audience of newly arrived refugees, for kids for whom English is maybe their fourth or fifth language, and watch their collective worlds expand a little all because of a love story. What a fucking privilege.
And what I know is I'm okay.
Genuinely.
I am also delighted, excited, grateful, loved, softening, breathing, optimistic and hopeful.
So, I know nothing and I know I know everything I need to know because I know myself, and I trust myself.
Image Description: Claire in the Tirta Empul Temple – Purification Ritual At The Holy Water Temple in Ubud. A pool of water, with stone carving statues and water taps. Her hands are on her heart and she is smiling. We were fortunate to go on the eve of full black moon and be led through the ritual by a beautiful Balinese family. Where you say a prayer at each water tap.
A month later, I lie in my own bed and I'm on my own. My mattress is on the floor because my ex is moving all of their belongings out of the home we shared. I have no idea what this next bit looks like and that feels terrifying and maybe a little exciting too.
I will be brave. I will be okay. And so will you.
I know. And so do you.
Love Claire.
Pearler is written and created on the unceded lands of the Yuggera and Turrbal people here in Meanjin, and I pay my deep respect to First Nation Elders past and present. This always was, and always will be Aboriginal land.
I don’t believe I can wholeheartedly support sovereignty of this land I live, love and work on without acknowledging the liberation of Palestine and honoring the impacts of colonisation of Indigenous people everywhere else.
You are amazing! Good luck to you from Belgium, Els
You are brave.
You are also incredibly strong, but when you’re not feeling strong, you’ve got a community here to support you.