Drop to your knees

Drop to your knees. Sink deep into prayer.

Silent whispers to something, or to someone, which is almighty. Powerful. Merciful.

In times of turmoil, exasperation and angst.

And in times of fervent joy, abundance and complete and utter gratitude.

The mystery that envelopes our lives and this very Unknown has us question the purpose; the rhyme and the reason to it all from time to time.

But then something happens – omens, signs and synchronicity happen - leading us closer to our desire and dream. Often masked and not always recognisable to the closed heart, but there nonetheless when we are ready to see, and I mean really See.

I’m talking about Alchemy. The idea of being connected and supported by the profound powers, which we often call Religion or Spirituality.

Recent travels to France and Italy reignited my intrigue in the Divine, the Universe, God – whatever label you prefer.

Churches and shrines, basilicas and venerable monuments. Historic paintings and statues of saints and priests, and a cross standing tall at the top of an insurmountable peak, towering over coastal towns below.

Etched into rock, messages to spirits, and at the base of alters, women holding photos of loved ones as they prayed in silence.

Everywhere I looked, I saw expressions of faith.

Faith in the Unknown.

Tomorrow Today

Two women – both ardently committed to bringing hope to those forcibly made hopeless – have returned time and time again to Bogor, a city 60km south of Jakarta in Indonesia, to hear the real stories. Not the stories which trickle through our mainstream media channels with filters and agendas, but the actual on-the-ground stories of the people living a life in limbo.

Bogor is a hub for some 3,000 refugees and asylum seekers who have fled danger in Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan and Sri Lanka. Approximately 500 are children and youth.

While families wait to hear of their application status - which can often take up to several years - life is put on pause. Everything comes to a complete stop. With no rights to work or access education, families live in very basic conditions with no certainty regarding their future on a day-to-day basis.

Meet Laura O’Neill and Julia Frei from Australia who have worked extensively with displaced people over the last decade all around the world. Connected not only by their passion, but their deep compassion for refugees and asylum seekers in Indonesia, Laura and Julia are raising essential funds to establish a learning centre in the area of Cisarua for the displaced children and youth of Bogor.

I speak with Laura who shares why her and Julia are devoted to their project.

But before we begin, take a moment to watch this video Tomorrow Today. Meet the people of Bogor.

Laura, can you explain to me the situation for refugees and asylum seekers who find themselves in Indonesia? What rights – or more accurately, lack of rights - do they have access to? What is life like on-the-ground?

“Many asylum seekers have traditionally come to Indonesia with the intention to find a people smuggler to aid their journey to Australia by boat. Since the introduction of the current government's deterrence policy, many individuals and families are no longer choosing to take this journey. Therefore, thousands of asylum seekers are waiting in Indonesia for their refugee status determination outcomes. During this waiting period, adults are unable to work which means that it is incredibly difficult for people to support themselves and their families. Children do not attend local school and spend their days without purpose in small rented rooms.”

I know you have both have recently visited Bogor to meet families who have been displaced from their homelands. Tell me, what took you to Bogor?

“I first went to the Bogor area because I knew this area is a migration hub where many asylum seekers lived. After arriving to Jakarta, I met a young Hazara man who invited me into his community. I was a total stranger to these people yet I was hosted in absolute warmth and hospitality, sharing food, shelter, stories and tears with individuals, families and children. Their situation and stories moved me deeply and since then, Julia and I have both returned a number of times to develop our project – a learning centre for children in the area known as Cisarua - so we can find ways to give back to these people who deserve so much more.”

During your conversations with the community, what stories were shared? What were you shocked to learn?

“I learnt a lot about people who have been displaced from their homelands. People, who like you and me, have tapestries of history and dreams for their futures. I heard stories that force people to flee from war, terror, kidnappings, bomb blasts, persecutions, missing family members and the heartache of often leaving alone and carrying a burden of worry for the wellbeing and safety of remaining relatives.”

The island of Gods

The image of Bali conjures up images of skies painted pink and orange, lusciously green rolling rice fields, steep ominous volcanoes, large smiling faces, bustling markets and reverend ceremonies. Images that attest the fact that this island has something special going on. What sets the island apart though lies a lot deeper. The Balinese people are masters of equilibrium. Living in that holy place all the while respecting nature, producing arts and crafts, paying homage to their Hindu gods with ceremony and prioritising family and friends at every opportunity. They are devoutly committed to self-care and healing, and hold a big vision for how they live their lives. One that is innately connected.

Here is a collection of short stories of people, places and experiences that capture Bali’s essence. Where magic collides. Where spirit comes to life. Where the divine dances in the light of the day and the celestial bows in the dark of the night.

And it really is no wonder it’s called the Island of Gods.

Ketut

He laughs.

It enwraps you.

His whole face lights up. His old murky blue eyes twinkle with soft gentleness. His mouth wide in mid grin. His skin wrinkled, lining years of smiles and chuckles. 

Freckles and spots mark his nose, a speckled canvas painted by countless days in the sun. He may have few teeth remaining, but his face is full.

Full of happiness. Full of life. Full of love.