Writing Again…

Just over 27 hours later, I stepped off the plane in Heathrow Airport after 3.25 years in New Zealand. It was 4.50am.

I’m grounded. At peace inside my own body and mind. It’s a strange feeling after spending over 30 years being a crazy Tasmanian-Devil-style-hyperactive-ball-of-mess.

I’m calm now, I listen. These are the things Aotearoa New Zealand gave me, along with the seeds of understanding about what colonisation is and the impact it continues to have on indigenous people around the world.

But aside from these changes, I am hungry. Hungry for a city, a real city. With all the dirt and diversity and dancing.

And I’m writing again…

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