I love Groundskeeping, out of everything in my life it is my favourite thing to do, especially when combined with cannabis. I know it is my favourite thing to do because, with the exception of sleeping, it is the thing I do the most.
When I say I only do what I want I mean it, this is the thing I want to spend my time doing so I do, I absolutely love groundskeeping, it is play, it is not work at all.
This morning I spent four hours removing thick tea trees that are a weed in this area, they have overtaken everything. With a keen eye one can see what they are hiding, six hours of solid work including the two yesterday and the secrets reveal themselves.
The place I am staying at now was once loved, really loved, beyond doubt. Thought has gone into it, thought while maintaining the natural beauty of thje country, combined with the ridiculous views of the ocean and surrounding hills. One of the last things I see before I go to sleep on the bed by the fire or in the hammock is the lights of Bicheno, one of the first those same lights provided the moon and stars do not demand my attention first. I walked out this morning and it felt like I could touch the stars they were that bright.
Somebody adored this place once. To walk around and to look I can see that the most likely scenario is one day the property just stopped being cared for, it must have been a sudden decision, possibly something more. It is overgrown in equal parts all over the place, clearly everything has been left when once it was not.
In a week the potential is showing itself again, groundskeeping is my art form, I put me into it. I follow my process with the work, I look, I wait, I get stoned, I walk around, I sleep, I wait, I walk around, get stoned, chill, wait and then eventually I am ready. Eventually is maybe two to three days at a new place of settling in and then I get to play, you would use the term work.
Waiting until I am comfortable to start is important, I don’t force myself to do a thing until I am ready. The first few days on a property I will literally do nothing except smoke pot and walk around. As I walk around I will pick things, rubbish, bits of wood, stuff that looks like it is better placed somewhere else, anything unsafe that I cannot make safe I make a note of in my head.
I do not need to write things down, I don’t forget anything that needs to be done, my head is clear of the junk that gets in the way of my memory. I will write a list of jobs if that list is big, or contains a bunch of little unimportant jobs, alternatively if there is a task that others want done I write it down too. Through this list I prioritise in my own way. Safety jobs come first, second on the list are jobs that open the property so I can see the canvas and also jobs that somebody else has asked me to do more than once.
If someone asks me more than once to do a job I will get it done as a priority. Even if it is unimportant to me I get it done for them and for me. This whatever is clearly something on the other person’s mind and they will continue to ask me until I do it, it stays on both of our minds now. For me, if something is going to keep repeating in my life I just get rid of it, especially simple shit like doing the jobs I am asked to do, putting the damn toilet seat down, being okay with it being left up.
Here lies the beauty in my life and my job/work, groundskeeping is in no way work. My work is the mental health work I do, in particular the work with psychedelic medicines. This is demanding, it is exhausting, it is phenomenally beautiful but it is exhausting and it is the only thing in my life I consider work.
Through my play which comes about generally through house and pet sitting opportunities, people I meet, word of mouth I live on ridiculously gorgeous place all over the world. The deal I make with these people is to make their place beautiful and they let me stay for free and host psychedelic healing sessions. Mostly I am at these places bny myself, sometimes with the owners. Either way, the trust comes first, and then it is maintained, never ever abused.
When these guys come home in a few weeks I would not be surprised if they break into beautiful tears when the see the place, right now if they came home it would not surprise me and I am only just getting started. I have not even opened up the canvas yet.
The canvas on a property is easy, even if it has never been maintained, always start with what is obvious, don’t get 12 steps ahead. Here the tea tree is obvious, this weed is growing and suffocating everything, it is hiding the beautiful secrets.
Beautiful secrets are gums, eucalypts, fungi, life of all different forms, places to sit under trees, somewhere to hang a hammock, spots just to sit still and be in love with the world we exist in. God, these are beautiful secrets, but they aren’t secrets at all, we’re all just too busy to understand them.
Secrets are also the details that stand out, a big tree trunk that can be used as a bench, rock formations, weird knots in trees, the magic within the magic.
Remove the tea tree first, don’t even have to think about it. I did two solid days with a brushcutter, a piece of shit brushcutter that broke and was of such shit quality it should never have benn allowed on the shelves. But even through how shit it was it gave me two bloody solid days, the work it allowed showed me exactly what needs to be done and it is all tea tree removal.
Removing the tea trees opens the property right up, allows it to be seen in fullness without the baggage. Opening is the key to a canvas, opening itself is an art of simplicity.
Tea trees are just an attachment to the ground here, it is like sugar, they grow so easily that the ground just becomes addicted to it, it loses its ability to fight (or the response that tells it that it has had enough) and now it is severly overweight. The difference of course the weight is not adipose, it is a weed. Remove the weed, remove the adipose, see the foundation, holy moly now you’re talking
I have opened up around the signs that ring out Krak O’Dorn so that they pop, cleaned up the overgrown front of the property and am making my way up the driveway now. There are a few more spots to cut down big overgrowth before it makes sense getting the brushcutter going again, it is very hard to contain my excitement and just rush out and grab one now. This would be the easy way, but it is missing the detail which is in making sure the things that were highlighted are again, all the beautiful secrets, this takes time.
Time for me means I keep moving and working when I am motivated, this just happens one morning when I wake up, it is go time, and I go. I do not stop until it is time to go or until it is time to rest. I rest a lot, probably only work four hours per day but I work hard, I make sure I sweat, my heart rate is up, I move and move and move. During my work I make sure to do a heap of movements, and I never get lazy by just using power tools for everything.
Today I could have made my way through what I did in less than two hours if I just used the chainsaw but the chainsaw doesn’t get me strong and fit, not everywhere. It is heavy but I do not use a lot of different muscles so I only use the chainsaw for the really big stuff. For the less big stuff I use a bone saw, which is a big bloody saw for cutting, originally I assume, through bones. Now the same sort of thing is used for gardening and stuff, I assume it was back in the day too, but just to put it into perspective, it’s a big saw. For the smaller stuff and two-handed set of secateurs. I’m walking up and down a hill regularlly, either to get stuff or to give myself a good view of the work in progress.
I rest regularly, every hour or so, sit down and drink some water, have a pipe and a cigarette and just chill out. Well, actually, not the cigarette at the moment. Sometimes I meditate, but generally just be still and comfortable in the space. I look around, feel into in and wait, I don’t think, I wait. In the waiting the work plan flows out and when it makes sense I start again.
By work plan, I mean I look at the space, just look. I know there is stuff to do but this isn’t the point, I just look at it. In the looking my eye picks up things that are out of place, or a way that is easier to approach the job, or simply that I have done enough and it is time to walk and give it some time to settle in, whatever it is.
In the opening up all the other jobs present themselves. At the moment I know I have enough time here to open the driveway. The entry, it is the priority without doubt, when you enter the property your first view sets the tone. The tone is recoverable and can also be lost, but setting it up from the first moment of entry makes it significantly more easy, maintenance rather than recovery, when you maintain it the trust will flow much more easily.
This trust is key to my work and where my money used to only come from, and didn’t come from at all. These spaces I run psychedelic healing sessions, they save lives, it is the evidence of the outcomes of this work. It is a simple truth. The feedback is equally overwhelmingly positive. Doing my work so well is what caused my desperation, isolation and poverty.
Money I despise this thing, it has ruined every healing space I have been invoved, it has no place in healing spaces unless the attchment to it is the thing that is being attended to. I tell people donations keep me going, allow this to be given to others but they are not expected. The work is only thing that is important and that is what we do.
A majority of the people I work with we spend three to seven days together, do a few sessions, teach them about healing and medicine work in the process. If we are really lucky and it is the right season we go foraging for our medicine, it is a beautiful process.
I am a professionally qualified remedial massage therapist. Liuke, a proper course, 2.5 year full-time course, gave me a bucket load of credit towards a physio degree which I didn’t complete, got a rubbish degree instead in the end.
I have a background in healing work, particularly creating safe spaces for people to talk and open up. I love groundskeeping and put my heart into it beciase the healing space that it opens up is, well, you have to try it for yourself to understand it. I cannot use others words, I know my progress in it is exceptional.
Through this I do my work so well people forget it is work. They always end up donating but most do not give money. I get a shit load of cannabis, I get art, feathers, things that people have made that mean something to them, a beautiful hug, a home cooked meal, a conversation.
A friend I support in sessions asked me one day, ‘what you charge, it doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t add up.’ I replied that it doesn’t no, it does not at all. I did not need to go into how much it did not add up, weetbix and water, because I had enough at the time and wasn’t in a position of worry where I wouldn’t have enough again. My sob story wasn’t important and it would have gotten in the way of the important stuff which is my mate healing himself.
My sob story did not matter because it was in the past, my current story was void of sobbing while having heaps of it too.
I make places beautiful, really really beautiful, I do it becuase I love it and I do it because I love my work. In the four or so weeks at this property I will do in excess of 100 hours work if the current rate is anything to go by, most will be physical labour. The place will look a million dollars and I am not receiving a cenmt for it, in fact the owners have no idea any of this work is going on. I’ll be long gone from the area before they even see it.
The payment to me is I do not have to go to the gym, force myself on a run, ride a bike, or do any single thing I do not want to do to keep myself fit. I will walk away from here in even better shape than I already am. The photo on the about page, this was a year ago, my body is stronger again, it is an awesome machine.
My physique mostly comes from my Father, but he had a shit body, my little brother has a similar body too but his is also shit. Genes are not all there is, consistent hard work matters too. My mother was white, short and who, without, I am afraid to imagine what my life and the lives of my siblings may have been.
My mother was a beautiful gardener, her garden was a mystery, new things to be found around every turn. It was completely chaotic until you understood that it wasn’t it was just my mum’s version of beauty. It was a jungle but everything had it’s place, an adventure where one could simply sit and look to see wonder unfold without moving a muscle, somewhere to hide and be alone while not being alone at all.
It was hilarious too, there were always garden gnomes all over her garden, they were one of the mysteries. She hated these things, absolutely hated them but because she was a beautiful gardener and spent so much time doing it everyone just decided she loved them and Mum didn’t have the heart to tell them otherwise. She also didn’t want to throw them out, I suspect this was for two reasons, the first obvious one is in case the person asked about them but I reckon it was not the major reason.
Major reason, I hypothesize, I guess, is the joy people got when they discovered the gnome in the garden. Mum hated them, I’ve said this, but she kept them and hid them where the chances of seeing them were minimal but others, if spending another time in the garden, would start to notice them
My mother was a beautiful woman. Her garden was beautiful and it represented her, because she was very alone without being alone. It was a hard thing for us all, she would not talk, speak out the things she needed to, she held onto everything like she needed to, like sharing it was going to somehow make the world explode. In the end all this shit exploded her, cancer after cancer after cancer until it took her life. Stress played such a huge part in her disease, stress that might have been eased if she had of just opened her mouth and shared the shit she needed to share.
Holding on to everything is not strength, this was my mother’s weakness, and it was a weakness that allowed the abuse in our family to occur. She was, regardless of the person she was, she was implicit in the violence in our home, very much so.
My garden and general grounds type is different, I love to walk and explore, move my body. These places the walk brings the adventure, new things open up to you as they open up to me in the opening process, more secrets.
Secrets this time include fallen trees which will become firewood for seasons to come, or dry fallen trees which will provide warmth this winter, potentially old decaying trees that are now growing mushrooms, mushrooms to give to my clients. Beautiful beautiful secrets.
Those mushrooms when they grow here, I take people straight to them. I make sure they know what they are looking for and then we eat some. I teach them how to dry them, store them, dose out correctly, support others through medicine and healing sessions. Phenomenal secrets.
These drugs are available free and they save lives, learn to pick mushrooms and then just go for it. Screw the guidelines and other people’s opinions, find your own relationship with them and open up your life. Of course, be sensible and understand interactions with other drugs and also with your known medicaL conditions, but other than that have a bloody good time and be ready for the challenge of your life.
I really do adore groundskeeping, just adore it, being with my world, my universe non-stop. I’d love to do it with another person but I love doing it alone so it does not matter. Two people do make some jobs a hell of a lot easier though.