amazing,” Rob said, “He was a remarkable artist too. He’d sit and use lead pencils to sketch his stories into notebooks, then delicately paint them with watercolours. Bill was an encyclopedia of traditional knowledge and he’d chant all night with his boomerang clapsticks.”
“Yes Rob. I can see it,” the Elder added. “His knowledge is precious, but we’re losing those old law men, and that’s a loss for the whole nation.”
Rob wholeheartedly agreed and understood how privileged he was to be learning from the Elder. His appreciation reinforced how important it was to consciously live in the present. There was no time to waste. Western Aranda country was calling again.
5
The days Rob and the Elder spent together evolved their own easy rhythm. Sunrise and sunset varied the vibrations of each day without completely interrupting them. Around the men was a quiet, wise energy interwoven with daily activities and they sometimes lost track of time, the linear time measured by man-made clocks.
Another early morning saw them loading up the 4WD with enough supplies for a few days and heading out of town as the first birds acknowledged first light. The Elder felt alive in the fresh flush of morning and started their first conversation while tying a pair of mulga wood hunting boomerangs (ulperrenye) together with thick string.
“We’re going to a very special area, a hidden gorge hardly ever visited even in the old days. You’ll be the first whitefella to see it!”
The Elder emphasised his last sentence like he rarely had before, and Rob was stunned.
“What?” He almost shouted, as much to the Universe as the Elder, sensing that this day and the next couple were going to be profoundly memorable.
“You know the importance of sites, so you’re ready for deeper information. In life we have blood family and interact with many other people, but each person lives a unique spiritual journey. You and I have special roles this lifetime because we were connected before, but I’ll talk more later. There’s a lot in front of us today.”
They turned off the bitumen road on to a dirt and gravel track and the desert oaks and mulga trees began thinning out. After reaching a rocky outcrop at the end of a ridge that angled off the West MacDonnells, the track narrowed. Rob eased the 4WD over increasingly sandy country, negotiating sections of bull dust, the powder-fine soil that can bog a vehicle, while the Elder rested the hunting boomerangs across his thighs and said...
“The hidden gorge can’t be seen from local roads or tracks. It’s even hard for helicopters to find. About thirty minutes further along we’ll park then walk for about an hour. There’s fresh water, plenty of overhangs to camp under, and we’ve got swags and enough tucker. You’ll see what the boomerangs are for later.”
Rob was intrigued about going into the unknown and as his excitement increased, the Elder continued.
“The gorge was created by the Ancestors and it has a cave gallery of paintings that materialised long, long ago. Only two people alive know they’re here – you and I. We’ll stay for three days and nights to receive the full cosmic vibrations that make it sacred.
Our individual frequencies pick up vibrations from people and places – positive and negative – but in the hidden gorge our frequency will rise because the energies are highly spiritual. As we walk, feel at One with all things, and we’ll stop a couple of times for a rest. Don’t feel obliged to speak, just absorb the energies of nature where no white man has ever been before!”
No one had ever said that to Rob because adventurers have been everywhere: crossing the driest deserts, climbing the highest mountains, even trekking the freezing snowscapes of the North and South Poles. To be the first white man to see any part of the planet first would be incredible, and Rob was bursting with anticipation.
As the men walked along in happy silence the bush aromas became sweeter, the sun’s warmth evaporating the last pockets of morning dew. The bird life was plentiful and in excellent song, and although there was no track, the tireless Western Aranda elder knew exactly where he was going.
At the first short break neither of them spoke, but at the second, just forty minutes after leaving the vehicle, numerous thoughts and feelings had built up in Rob.
“It’s such a privilege to be here. It’s hard in New York and other cities to keep grounded. My thoughts and spirit just keep flying everywhere. But here, I’m balanced. I’m at home in the Dreamtime landscape. Why’s it taken me so long to come back?”
Rob had not asked a direct question for a while, but the Elder was not surprised. Clarity on all levels was vital.
“We’ve got to be ready for our next step and reach certain spiritual levels before rising to higher ones. You’ve lived a lot and developed a lot of awareness. You wrote about the Outback while overseas and created a thought-pathway. Because your connection started in the mind, you’ve been here many times before arriving physically! So it’s not long in terms of spiritual readiness. You’re actually right on time.”
“Yeah. That feels right,” Rob agreed.
“Remember you mentioned Cosmic Timing?” the Elder continued. “This is it in practice. Your inner cosmos is on time because it’s part of the larger cosmos. That’s why you’re sitting under a tree in the middle of Australia. Your journey’s already partly written in the stars and partly etched in life’s landscapes. You’re the co-author, and the Universe, Ancestors and I are guiding you to fulfil this part of it.”
Rob was not surprised by the profound and beautifully balanced explanation. This was the wise way of his guide and mentor. Now it was obvious he was destined to learn about much more than sacred tjurunga, although he would definitely help the Elder try and find the old, stolen ones.
Their second stop had been long enough for bananas, mixed nuts and refreshing drinks of water, and then, according to the Elder, they only had about twenty minutes to go.
“The sun will be at a certain angle when we get there, that’s why the day’s unfolding like it is,” the Elder explained. “We must find a particular rectangular rock face when the sun’s shining precisely onto it. We’ll thank the Ancestors in advance for the opportunity to see the paintings, and be grateful for the information received. These affirmations will form thought-connections to the paintings before we locate them. We’ll create a positive future, by creating a positive now.”
Feeling invigorated after their break and snack both men stood up, ready for the last part of the hike. With rolled swags and full daypacks of supplies and cameras slung over rested shoulders, and the Elder carrying the two hunting boomerangs, they set off. Soon after, they came to a dry, sandy watercourse flanked by lush vegetation. For the first time they saw palm trees and another plant with strong, green fronds sprouting near the orange-red rocks.
“They’re palms aren’t they?” Rob wondered out loud.
“They’re Red Cabbage Palm, and we call them Rrankweye,” the Elder replied. “And that other fella is dinosaur tucker.”
“What?” Rob cut in.
“It’s the cycad. We call it Tywekekwerle.”
“But what do you mean by ‘dinosaur tucker’?”
“Botanists call it a ‘living fossil’ because it survived the Ice Ages.” Rob heard what the Elder said but realised there must be a local story. “They’re Dreamtime Ancestors that became plants. Meaning, spirit lives beyond the limiting beliefs of science. Time’s not a long line from start to finish. It’s inter-dimensional and embodies past, present and future. The palms and cycads are in three time dimensions at the same time.”
The Elder paused for a few mouthfuls of cool water.
“That’s the essence of the Dreamtime and it’s a challenging concept. Yet more and more will understand as personal awareness grows and consciousness develops.”
“As