Honouring simplicity

The fullness, richness, of a simple getaway.

We arrive at the cottage on the cusp of golden hour. As I open the car door and take in the landscape, the most lively birdsong greets us. Our ears are flooded with the familiar sounds of fairywrens, honeyeaters and wattlebirds, along with some unfamiliar calls. Lachie and I look at each other, our eyes softening as a smile creeps across our faces – our kind of music. This is exactly where we need to be.

The land is lush, vibrant and full of life – so much is flowering in the garden. The environment is ripe with cheerful birds, native plants and roaming wildlife. Arriving in this sanctuary feels like an untethering of sorts. The delight of the evening chorus in the surrounding trees is punctured by the roar of the open ocean just a few kilometres away – a big swell is building and the wind is onshore.

We’re in Port Campbell celebrating Lachie’s 31^st birthday. Every December, we go on a week-long camping adventure to Wilsons’s Prom. Unable to make this year’s annual pilgrimage, we decide to take a long weekend down the Great Ocean Road with our furry girl instead. Embracing the comforts of a cabin feels like a welcome relief. Our cosy cottage is overlooking lush green hills with dairy cows grazing into the distance. The environment is nothing short of serene – I want to bottle it up and take it home. 

Redirecting to here and now

Lachie has a natural ability to savour the present moment. My life’s work is honing the art of presence and given his knack for the practice, he is inevitably one of my greatest teachers. He often jokes that he’s Gandhi when he has a stroke of Buddha-like genius and I’m anywhere but here. I roll my eyes every time he says this, but deep down I can’t help but agree.  

Wherever he is – he’s fully there. Rather than worry about what’s coming or dwell on what’s been, he remains unapologetically present with a soft but equally fierce honouring of what’s occurring, moment to moment. This weekend feels like an invitation to reconnect with the here and now, redirecting my attention to what truly matters.

“The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

Time drifts by effortlessly, peacefully, yet each day feels spacious. With no set plans, we go with the flow spending our days walking, eating outdoors, witnessing the undulating movement of the natural world. We honour simplicity – waking to morning birdsong, sipping warm coffee and cacao, traversing the land in awe of its beauty and strength, admiring the sunset as the day transitions from light to dark, barely touching our phones.

Being content

Each afternoon, we witness kelpies leaping off a quad bike in the paddock nearby to round up the cows. The following morning, one by one, the cows remerge into the paddock after what we imagine is their morning milking. Some of them meander back to their grazing spot, others skip and run – it’s hard to put into words the sheer delight of witnessing such pure joy.

The daily ritual of savouring a cup of coffee becomes an extraordinary delight at the local coffee shop. The warmth of the cup in my hands in the crisp morning air, the steam emanating from the surface of the coffee, the intoxicating scent, the taste in each slow sip. Cocooning the cup in my hands, I bring it to my lips and smile at Lachie from behind the cup. Sharing this precious experience together as Poppy sleeps by our feet is such a fleeting moment of heart-exploding contentment – and a powerful reminder that the more intention and space you infuse into everyday activities, the more peace, gratitude and joy seems to emerge naturally. 

Meeting ourselves, and the moment, fully

The weekend feels so luxuriously spacious, rejuvenating and restful from being intentionally in the present moment. Ordinarily, so much of my mental space is precariously charmed by the future – planning for things to come, organising the life ahead of me, worrying about what’s around the corner, fearing everything that could go wrong. And this does little except offer temporary relief to an anxious mind through a perceived sense of control. Whether we think about it or not, life is going to unfold naturally. What is far more beneficial is to deliberately, wholeheartedly, remain in the present moment – the only thing we do in fact have any sense of control over.

“The only way to live is by accepting each minute as an unrepeatable miracle.”
— Tara Brach

When we meet the moment, fully, we notice everyday wonders that can be overlooked in the busy, distracted nature of modern life. We reclaim the opportunity to witness the intricacies of an “unrepeated miracle” – an echidna crossing the walking track at the Port Campbell headland, a sheep’s eyes meeting my gaze on a Timboon farm, the surge of energy as a giant wave crashes against a limestone cliff at the Bay of Martyrs, dappled afternoon light streaming through the windows. These are the moments that matter. 

The peace of presence

When we participate fully in each moment, it gives the mind less of an opportunity to disrupt the inner peace of being present. Cravings, yearnings and desires become less captivating when you’re content with what is. Remembering that we often have everything we truly need in each moment is a remarkable by-product of being mindful. It’s the quiet, soft space within you gently whispering, this is enough right now.

This simple getaway is full with the richness of being mindful – I can still feel the joy, contentment and awe in my bones two weeks later. It turns out you can indeed bottle up the peace of presence – taking it with you wherever you go.