Many years ago I went off grid in search of a very special place I knew to be somewhere in the Wollemi National Park, Dharag country, in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales.
Mother Nature, and extreme solitude, taught me a lot about myself and the environment around me. It felt right that it took three months of climbing down mountains, racing angry snakes up vertical cliffs, and sleeping under the stars to finally find the Sacred site I’d gone there to find.
It’s a unique place, with several massive caves and numerous much smaller ones buts it’s so well hidden that despite having walked within several hundred yards of it , and having looked right across it each time, I’d still missed it completely. However, I knew I’d found it when the hair on my arms and neck stood on end, and I felt immediately welcomed by the spirits of the many who’d called this place home so long ago.
I spent the next three months living in one of the smaller caves and, one day, large chunks of bark started crashing to the ground at the base of the tree just outside its entrance. I’d only just realised what could be doing this when it came into view, the only goanna I’d seen up there. He came into my cave, sniffing with his tongue whilst his eyes adjusted. I’ve seen the damage a scared goanna c