It seems to be that our entire scientific-medical model is founded on Germ Theory.

Louis Pasteur is considered to be the forefather of this notion, dictating that germs “out there” are a threat to our health, and we need to enlist injections, antibiotics, and the mass production of various pharmaceutical drugs to keep us healthy and safe from illness and disease.

Pasteur was found to be a fraudulent huckster with a vested interest alongside the media moguls and growing pharmaceutical companies…

One of the big differences between Germ Theory and Terrain Theory is that germs are not the CAUSE of sickness and disease; germs are the RESULT of having an imbalanced internal ecology…

It seems that since 2007, terrain theory, which is one of the fundamental underpinnings of 'the old guard' of complementary medicine philosophy and practice, has been lost.

It is no longer mentioned anywhere in the curriculum of any Australian based complementary medicine course that I am aware of.

This has occurred, in part, from an unprecedented push towards evidence-based medicine, and the slow dilution of traditional evidence-based practice…

Many moons ago in a time long forgotten, the first people of the land shared noble kinship with the whales of the sea.

These were the days when the islands were untouched and pristine, and the sky hung so low that the people could easily reach the stars.

It’s even said that each time the whales would surface, their joyful stirrings would splash the clouds above, providing rain and water for all to thrive…

There's a lot I could say about sitting in the wilderness for extended days and nights on end.

Mountain valley cocooned me, my humble nest situated in dense forest, surrounded by bracken fern and eucalypt trees, young and old.

Relentless rains and howling winds formed much of the backdrop. Ancient trees and heavy branches would fall in the dark of night. Some of them were earth shaking. Thunderous…

There’s a place between worlds. Between stories you’ve heard. It’s carried on wind, on the song of the bird. In mountains and forests, fur of a bear, tattered red fox, platypus stare.

Take courage, stir those waters, take the reigns of the heart. Gallop in dark oceans, shine with the stars. No shields are needed when you wield the sword of truth…

Let me tell you a story…

We love stories.

Ever since our ancestors first conjured up sacred word, leaning in receptively around ancient fire to hear sweet flicker of tongue and strange incantation, stories have brought forth magical stirrings of meaning and imagination…

The only constant in life is change, proclaimed Greek philosopher Heraclitus, way back in the day.

On a personal level, we change our clothes, change our careers, change our relationships, change our beliefs, thoughts, behaviours, religions, businesses, brands, environment and more.

It’s even said that our body constantly replaces old cells with new ones at the rate of millions per second, with about 50 million cells having died and being replaced by the time you finish this sentence…

I sat there cross-legged on the boulder and pulled my poncho hood over my head. Taking a few deep breaths and settling in, I was acutely aware of the changes in temperature.

A couple of hours prior, I had drank mescalito; a mixture of the mescaline containing cactus San Pedro.

A gentle experience, yet still allowing for the perplexing and fascinating experience that followed…

I get up most mornings and sing the sun up with the birds.

My body clock is wired to rise as the roosters start crowing and the magpies start warbling. Often the kookaburras and ravens chime in if they're in the area.

It’s late winter. August.

When I'm down by the water the waterfowl and ducks honk and quack, followed by the blackbirds, wattlebirds, wrens, finches, wagtails, fantails, and the occasional pair of lorikeets flying overhead…

Last night I slept under a blanket of stars out here in the wild. I was going to share about the necessity of vision quests in our modern times; the result of which can be like a warm cooked meal to the soul on a cold winters eve.

But here I am, resting into a deep well of sadness. A longing, for a time long gone and a time yet to come.

Rilke comes to mind, when he writes "The quieter, the more patient and open we are in our sadness, the deeper and more unerringly the new will penetrate into us..."

It was the night after the soft buttery skin of the moon had made her way in wholeness across the dark blanket above.

That creamy glow arose once again as I peered through the silhouette of gum leaves, perching upon wooden planks that made up the open framed tree-house out front of our property.

The transition from Autumn to Winter. Brisk, clear, still.

I reminisce on one particular time I was chronically ill. A bee came to visit me. Two of them, actually.

It was a time were I had been stretched, tested, and pushed to many limits and beyond.

A nice slathering of physical, emotional, and mental stress, with some of that Dark Night of The Soul medicine thrown in for good measure too...

Why would anyone willingly put fresh chilli in their eyes? It’s a great question.

And if you’ve tried this Amazonian earth medicine, your natural reaction might be to wince -or smile- upon merely hearing its name…

It’s early March. That summer heat has been giving way to a cool Autumn breeze.

In the silence, sacred murmurs coax me into oneness with creation.

In the middle of a swirling vortex of ancient energy, between Wurgarri and Mud-dadjug (the traditional names of Mt Sturgeon and Mt Abrupt), I nestle in and listen…