Maybe you'd even like to sit with your favourite cup of tea on the couch or lay in your backyard on the grass.
We'll be here for a little while together and you can always adjust your position and move and stretch or pause at any moment to take a break or write in your journal.
There are a few words that I use which are local Adnyamadana words and they're listed in the introduction section.
I'd love for you to familiarise yourself with these words before we begin as I won't take time to translate them during our time on country together.
Language is a large part of culture and connecting to country and so by using some local names we can connect a little deeper and feel into the energy of Adnyamadana country a little more.
Maybe you know some local words from the country that you're seated on right now.
Maybe this is an invitation for you to explore that in your own time.
Adnyamadana country is incredibly unique and full of history with timelines spanning millions of years.
And so together we will rest on the land of Adnyamadana,
The land of Ikara,
The land of creation.
As you begin to settle in here you can either close your eyes or simply gaze somewhere grounding and cozy.
Sitting together here,
Slow,
Easeful,
Resting in this place of contemplation and meditation.
Begin to simply notice the weight of your body against the earth beneath you.
And from here maybe you'd like to visualize yourself sitting on the earth here now as I am too with you together on country.
I'm sitting here high up on a hill above the valley below me gazing down across the tree tops and looking out upon the undulating horizons all around me.
On the horizon beyond the valley the earth rises to meet the sky in all hues of orange and red and brown and green.
The sun is slowly rising behind me and as it does the illuminant warmth is gently tiptoeing its way down the sloping cliffs of the outer northeastern rim of Ikara.
The color is slowly coming to light and the many shades of orange and brown and green and grey revealing themselves to the sunny winter's morning.
The sky is bluebird clear with some gentle lines of clouds on the horizon.
A measly false threat of rain in the future.
The air is crispy,
Cool and dry and you can feel its edges as it whispers past the hairs of your skin.
Fresh desert air whirling with dust particles of billion year old rock and soil travelling past sacred sites and carrying the voices of ancestors song and moora.
Air seemingly empty but full of life.
Gentle wisps of breeze begin to flick past my ears as the earth begins to warm and the air begins to rise with the cool morning air rushing in to fill the space.
A dance of prana,
Of life.
As the sun rises the earth rises too and the earth awakes and you awake.
Maybe you notice the air around you in this moment and the temperature,
The movement or maybe the air within you,
Your breath,
The inhale and the exhale moving in and out,
Up and down infusing yourselves with nourishment and breathing together with the photosynthesising plants all around you.
Breathing together in reciprocity just as the Adnyamatna people did for thousands of years before us.
