My comforting Little Mate ...

Today was the first time in a while I actually felt I achieved something by spending the whole day at home on the farm. The last seven months are a blur of diverse, frenzied, family issues and logistics I altruistically, clumsily fumbled my way through.

Consequently my own life agenda piled up and fell by the wayside, waiting impatiently for my attention.

Now at the end of my working day, I'm worn out, bruised and smelly with bits of leaves and twigs protruding from my tied up hair. Burst blisters are hurting my tired hands, but nevertheless, it feels good! I'm enjoying the sense of achievement.

This was once my norm, especially during the early years of our country/sea change. I'd be in solitude most days with beautiful, earth-colored, multicultural cattle curiously supervising my work, while following me around the farm.

During that tranquil time I absorbed the serenity of nature like a sponge. It was grounding and put everything I valued into it's rightful perspective. It also highlighted elements of my life where I chose to waste my energy. During the silence of the days I learned to decipher that which I needed to let go.

Today seemed no different. Welcomed hours of solitude to grit my teeth into pending work, embraced by fresh air and the scent of our native land.

However, today 'was' different.

It felt different.

Knowing the whole world was presently self-isolating as best it could, in this somewhat surreal, challenging time, felt eerie. I noticed even the customary symphonic voice of nature was quieter than usual.

Not only was I on my own, but I literally felt 'alone' for the first time since I can remember. I seemed the only human alive.

A little unsettled, I commenced my last project for the afternoon of sawing back a high, thick bush line. I knew I wouldn't finish, but if I knocked over a decent chunk before nightfall, I'd feel content.

I'd cut a length of about ten metres when I reached the first Gum tree. We have two, quite sparse gums nestled among the bushy windbreak. Looking up, there within the rugged flora, I noticed a fluffy round, grey and white ball.

Curiously gazing more closely, I saw sharp, strong claws tightly gripping a branch and I realised, much to my delight, the fluffy ball was the backside of a koala. He was sound asleep, hugging the limb and completely undisturbed by my noise; content in deep slumber.

The scene made me smile.

I wasn't alone at all!

Who was I kidding?

I began to speak to my little friend and apologized for the racket my saw was creating, not to mention the branches pounding to the ground.

But he didn't mind. In fact, he ignored my voice and seemed completely oblivious to my presence.

I watched him gently swaying on his flimsy branch among the busyness of the bush, unperturbed by his surroundings, comfortable and at peace.

I too felt a sense of calm wash over me. This little guy wasn't worried about the effect the Corona virus could bestow upon the world. He lived mindfully in the moment, appreciating the joy his experience gifted.

I giggled to myself. He was role-modelling an excellent example of self isolation though!

I continued to admire the sleeping koala for a while and insightful thoughts, maybe messages, came to mind. My new friend seemed to dissolve all my feelings of uneasiness.

Relax, breathe and go with the flow, while doing the best I can to support the decrease of this viral contagion.

Rest. Allow for quality sleep to support my immune system.

Add more greens to my diet toward optimal health and vitality.

Don't overthink crazy thoughts. Keep my emotions contained or they'll screw with my head.

But most importantly I sensed this gorgeous ball of fluff let me know I was 'never' alone, and all is well ... and will remain so.