Is there anything more to say?

This is an experience almost too precious to put into words, it so sacred, each second vibrated, each moment enriched with love. Even the short, hot, dusty walk from the Campground to the Conference Centre was special, feet lightly landing on red sandy ground, pulling to earth, to the ancient ground. Shoes have not been washed since; their red hue auspicious.

At Kata Tjuta, Mother’s Swayambu, She invited one to walk on her very feet, they carrying us lightly across hot, rocky ground, Her winds turning us to a speck of dust, light and free.

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At Kings Canyon, not officially part of the program, yet exquisite, raw and untamed, trees grew from rock, sucking deep down to find water, our own roots simultaneously finding the Source within – both throughout and now, one sinking deep into Mooladhara, into silence, yet never alone. One not even wanting to speak so they can stay there, so they not disperse or disrespect the experience with the frivolities of everyday life.

The private tour to Mt Connor, Shri Shiva’s Swayambu, was also precious, it graced with a stop at a pristine-white salt lake on the property, remnants of inland seas that once covered the land. Salt – thick, bright white and crusty, one felt privileged to step, lightly though, on what was once the sea floor, the tour guide, after afternoon tea, ensuring we left it in even better condition than before. On the way in, the guide was busy telling of the area and the property’s fascinating history, the Indian yoginis in the back, however, not listening, not only due to a slight language barrier, but busy absorbing Shri Shiva’s vibrations, human histories, while very interesting, paling in comparison. The drive back was very different, since the tour guides were given realisation while most of us meditated, the return trip all about spirit, Shri Mataji and vibrations, the vibrations rich and completely different.

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Mount Conner (Attila) Shri Shiva Swayambu

Earlier on, we sat for meditation not on the property, but nearby, given we weren’t allowed to meditate on the property due to the owner’s wishes – yet no human rules can tell us when to commune or not with God – we were, of course, all mediating all the way!

We learned of the area’s wild camels, imported long ago to help with travel before roads were built, they carrying tiny seeds of camel melons in their toes, the tennis ball-sized fruit, while bitter and inedible to humans, delicious for camels! We saw too what is said to be the oldest desert oak in the area, together with a dingo stalking an emu across the dry plains. Delightful.

Mt Connor, unlike Uluru (as far as we can see) has trees on the top, one easily transported there to meditate in the soft lap of God, the swayambu viewed too from the aeroplane together with nearby salt lakes one easily might mistake for water. Mt Connor isn’t straight and uniform at the back like at the front, erosion make it sort of undulate in and out, and, given the back’s in the shade all the time, it’s much wetter and greener with vegetation than the front, of the view we see from the viewing area. It’s also geographically such that it makes its own clouds on top!

As for Uluru, words escape one, except to say that two perambulations were uniting and breathtaking, and that one does notice that the landscape on the first half (if going clockwise from Mala Carpark) is drier, the second half greener (not to mention mirage-like) due to that side getting more shade and moisture.

And then there were Pujas, Havan and a joyful Public Program, yogis and newbies dancing, singing and celebrating life as we should.

The other thing one inevitably notices at Uluru is that things work like magic down to the tiniest details, everything falling into place, the Chaitanya almost viscous – perhaps understandably given we’re on sacred, largely untouched land in the centre of Mooladhara in the centre of Australia in arms of the Holy Trinity. It’s also a reminder of what is available to us all 24/7 everywhere if we are in the centre. Jai Shree Mataji.

On parting and farewelling one ever-giving and loving yogini who looked after the accommodation and more, she said, “It’s just love. It’s all love.”

Is there anything more to say?

From Julia Hebaiter – Australia