I live in Paradise. Truly I do. When I first arrived at the top of the South Island of New Zealand in 1995 I was in a constant state of joy and amazement. I’d come from Scotland , which is a stunningly beautiful country too, but there was something else here as well as the beauty. There was the tribe and a culture created by people who have turned their back on the mainstream and set out to create their own reality; a clear and vital connection with earth and cosmos; a sense of the future unfolding perfectly.
It’s now 2014 and I’m here in Golden Bay again. It’s my soul home and my visioning place and it calls me back. It’s March, the time when summer slowly drops into autumn, the days are warm and mellow, the skies cloudless. At any time of day or night when I step out of the house-truck onto the green earth and look up into the sky, every cell in my body rejoices at the feast.
I have three glorious long sandy beaches within a few minutes’ drive and I walk the dogs every day. There are never more than a handful of people on the beach and I’ve grown accustomed to having paradise all to myself – and the dogs of course. We mostly walk at the same beach each day because they get a bit wild when I take them out of their comfort zone. But there is no sacrifice in this.
We approach the beach through a scenic reserve of regenerating native rainforest where a network of paths provide variety. Artists have co-created with nature in unobtrusive and charming ways – rounding a corner, there are two chairs fashioned from logs overlooking the estuary and a table with a chess board set with black and white stones, ready for play.; there are stone sculptures and shell mobiles and the carved heads of the Ancestors. And around every corner another delightful and surprising way in which land and water meet – wharf and river, wetlands and ponds and estuary.
And then there is that moment when we step out of the forest and onto the beach – always a breath catcher – and always different. The high tide is full and energetic and alive. Sometimes it roars and other times it purrs. And the freshness of the air is like being stroked inside and out with vibrancy. In both directions, the beach disappears into unfolding vistas of beauty – to the South the coastline hazed in sun and ozone flattens out towards the crab claw of Farewell Spit – and to the North the big arm of the Bay extends beneath the purple mountains.
Of course no words can ever capture the experience of living such a blessed existence. I know I am one of the most privileged people in the world even though, as a twenty first century nomad , I am not wealthy in the usual sense and own very few possessions. I have chosen this way of living and it doesn’t come without sacrifices. But it is a choice. There are so many people who equate living a privileged life with money – if you have enough money you can buy a piece of paradise – and the actual experience of living a whole and wholesome, holy life is always deferred until later “when we can afford it”. And of course there are many for whom living in this most beautiful landscape empty of people, would be unbearably dull – and that’s just as well because otherwise this paradise would be over populated and I’d have to move on in search of more empty space .
In my world abundance and simplicity live hand in hand – and they are a choice. Welcome to my world!
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