Burnout Diaries — Part 1

This week I went bush.

Deep into the intersection of the Erridundra National Park and Snowy River country. The stuff of legend.

To get there, I drove 300 km East of Melbourne before hooking a sharp left, and heading North for over 100km. The road was not easy to navigate, and downright treacherous in parts. Save one campsite by a pristine river, there was no place to take a pit stop. No fuel station, no general store, no pub. Just an interminable, winding road, that led deeper, and deeper into the wilderness.

Why on Earth would a person choose to live out here, I questioned, shortly after the road turned to gravel.

Why would I choose to travel here, I asked myself as the back end of my car fishtailed, having taken a sharp bend too quick.

I went deep into the wilderness because I was in pain. Not a physical pain, but a searing blackness, that only the energy of the Australian bush can heal.

From time to time, I am bitten by the Black Dog and her friend, the Golden Retriever. The haunting can be deep. It’s a f — — — bitch to manage.

Sometimes, the intensity of the emotion is so powerful, that it physically reprimands me. On these occasions, it makes me think that it could not be possible to experience anything more painful. It’s like a death. Except no-one has died.

To this end, nature is my salve, and my salvation.

In addition to visiting this remote yet gloriously idyllic part of Australia, I also spent time at Marlo, a small fishing village, approximately 135km South of Bonang. The beaches in this region are pristine and wild. They are untouched and absent of any development. Fringing the 100km stretch of the Croajingolong National Park, the rugged coastline fuses with ease, to the salt spray, blue sky and drifting cumulus.

It’s in these environments that I make peace.

It’s where I feel release and deliverance.

It’s where I go to forgive.

It’s where I go to experience joy and self-actualisation.

It’s where I come to heal. It works.