coming home

coming home

My year in New Zealand has been chock full of miracles and transformation. I am returning home to Australia a new woman.

After a gruelling three years of midwifery training, years of single parenting and a painful divorce it was time for me to shed my skin.

I needed to find me again.

I came to New Zealand to start over, although I didn’t know it at the time. I came for a job interview, which led to a solo adventure, which led to wild dancing on a mountain, which led to an unexpected romance, which led to a midwifery job on the south island, which led to building a new home and a new life.

And that’s only part of the story – a story that I will share in posts to come.

The turning point happened at a super magical place called Coromandel.

It was here that I found large helpings of inner peace and prayed for a miracle.

Dear God… I want to live and work in New Zealand.”

I sang it.
I danced it.
I let it go.

My prayer was answered.

Sunset Prayer Banner

After I got divorced and packed up the house, my gut said go to New Zealand.

I listened.

Sometimes we just have to go where we are afraid to go. Into the unknown. Into the mystery that calls us forward.

Even if it means packing up.

Even if it means going away.

Even if it means not knowing how.

Even if it means leaving precious loved ones.

I told myself I should do blah blah blah. But should doesn’t actually work. It’s the voice of guilt. Should had taken me round the merry go round again and again. Nowhere.

I followed my golden sparkles, my delight.

It worked.

I said yes to travelling alone and being alone. I was terrified. I had to be with my self day after day. Eventually I started to discover a diverse community inside me. A scared little girl, a fierce warrior woman, a neglected artist, a nature lover, a broken angel, a wild woman, a weary mother.

I listened to and heard all their voices. I cried their tears. I grieved their broken hearts and failed attempts. I held their abortions and miscarriages. I listened. I sat with them.

I made time to be with it all.

In Autumn, I let go into the crackling fire.

I wrote, I painted, I danced, I slept.

I wrote letters to people that I didn’t send and burned my angry resentful dross in the fireplace.

I sent heart felt letters too. With unexpected heart felt replies.

I held my own hand and sang love songs to myself.

In winter I gave death.

I gave death to failure.

I gave death to guilt and past mistakes.

I gave death to dreams related to other people, that were out of reality and out of my control and needed to be let go of.

I found my light within it all, underneath it all, burning alone in the calm seeming dead of night.

I remembered the words my friend Petra had said to me during my crazy years…. “Ange, you cannot be destroyed.” Petra’s words gave me everything I needed to go on.

Miracles began pouring in from my friends Claire and Andy who live south of Auckland.

When I needed a sanctuary I found peace in their home. Luscious edible greens sprang forth from their fertile garden. I laughed with their kids and pets. Laying on their soft green grass, eating their plum jam, watching their apples and peaches grow. I was in heaven.

When my job fell through, they gave me a van to travel around New Zealand in.

Angels, both of them.

That’s how I came to the Coromandel, and the Mana Retreat.

I sang and meditated. I heard my souls voice. I fell deeply in love with the land that is Aotearoa. Her green forests held me. Her damp earth cooled me and calmed me. At times I was scared yet I knew deep within I was loved and that angels and god’s loving spirit was protecting me always.

As I gleefully walked the goddess path through the hills up to the Sanctuary, I decided that I would never again settle for anything less than a truly wonderful relationship.

So I prayed.

I prayed, sang and danced.

I let the past go.

It wasn’t long after this that, quite by surprise I met a raven, Silver.

He touched my soul with truth and beauty the moment we met.
(And has continued to do so every day since.)

Silver is a craftsman, an engineer, a musician, a harp maker, a healer, a poet, a truly peaceful warrior. Life brought me a gentleman, a wise and kind man, a good man.

A hugely unexpected miracle.

Thank you God.

Meeting the sacred masculine has been a profoundly healing journey.

Silver heard my heart and soul wish to live and work in New Zealand.

It aligned with his desire to live in New Zealand too.

So what did he do?

He held my dream.

He drove me around New Zealand until I found another job.

He went right ahead and made me a home. He gathered wood and chopped it, he made me fires, he kept me warm. He fed me really really good food. Miracle upon miracle birthed forth through him. I receive his kindness, love and support with immense gratitude. Today, he is firmly and fully up underneath me, supportive of me on every level. Every day of my life feels like a miracle living with his gentle, generous soul.

He has played a huge part in my healing.

Meeting a good man changes everything.

Meeting a King changes everything too.

I have come far from the life I was living.

I had felt broke and broken the years before. I was stuck in the poor me mentality, feeling like a slave girl, working too hard, feeling resentful, never having enough money, feeling ripped off, unsupported and unseen in my relationships. Frazzled by life.

Today I live in a beautiful home surrounded by mountains with sheep grazing with their lambs. I am doing work I love helping women transform their lives. I am loved, cherished and supported by an incredible man I love and respect.

There is alchemy in human love and I experience it daily.

Miracle follows miracle in my life with Silver.

Even when I freak out, break down and fall apart.

He is there, he is calm, he is safe.

Life is a magical adventure. I return to my daughter with a sparkle in my eye, filled with joy and excitement. I had to let go of everything to find myself. I had to die to be reborn. I will do it again, over and over. Of this, I am certain. I believe in miracles, not just for me, for everyone.