Kindred Spirits

One day the wind changes

And a new nanny blows in from the north

A young lady who is on her own journey

But your four-year-old self has no concept of any of that

She is a magical lovely being

With bright curly hair

And a big smile

She makes everything fun

Your very own Mary Poppins

She is even English! 

And she becomes a part of your life. Your family. Your world. 

Eventually, the wind changes

As it must and always will

And your very own Mary Poppins

Heads off again for more adventures of her own

Over the years you all keep in touch

Until it grows sporadic 

Life just happens 

You go to school

Parents separate 

You go to high school and university

And travel 

And write 

And everybody goes about their days filled with breakfasts, and lunches, and dinners

And the small things we don’t think about

That mark and pass each day

Until over twenty years have passed 

And you’re a year off from thirty 

And out of the blue

Your very own Mary Poppins writes to you through your website 

And you discover she lives in Chicago! 

You plan to meet up.

You’re nervous. Why?! 

It has been close to twenty-five years since you’ve seen each other! 

And you see her, and she’s still your nanny

She’s still magical and lovely 

Still has the great big smile, though all her curls are gone

And she has children of her own

(The same age you were once upon a time!) 

And even though all this time has passed

Even though all these lives have been lived in the intervening time

It’s just like being with family, with a very close aunt or big sister 

She asks if you could stay in Chicago and become her nanny! 

You wish you could. You really do. 

You never want to leave! 

But the wind has changed

And you’re headed off for adventures of your own

You give her a hug

And promise to return

That night, your heart is so full

You can’t even sleep. 

It’s not memories, or even topics of conversation,

It’s this sense

That you’ve rediscovered who you are

Where you came from

And who was there

Who made you who you are

And that time and space

Can never separate kindred spirits

People who are supposed to be in our lives

And make it better

The end. 

A Delightful Day in London

To wander the streets of London
From Holborn through to Lincoln's Inn Fields
Paying homage to the ghost of Charlotte Charke
First female actor-manager
Who in the 18th century wandered these streets
Desperate for work upon the stage

Down the Strand past the Royal Courts of Justice and
Onto Fleet St, where,
Somewhere along this road
Mordecai, relative in time, was arrested
Caught creating counterfeit cash and
Eventually tried at the Old Bailey
And shipped to Australia
The Royal Bank with a waterfall of tropical
Pink, orange, and yellow flowers
Cascading down its cold walls
Impossibly narrow buildings squished between
"Newer" edifications
Stone monuments that seem fairy-tale like with their
Statuesque dragons and winged horses

Down to the Thames
The buildings that grace its banks
The very sites that in themselves are the 

Synecdoche of London
Tower Bridge, St Paul's, The "Shard" 

The latter, still under construction
The city is still being built
Still growing above its labryntine streets
Winding paths that open to secret courtyards, squares, gardens
And ever more winding paths

To walk from Blackfriars as the sun is still rising
To see the world
"Half-way in shadow
And half-way in light"
It really is, as Bert describes,
"Coo, what a sight!"

The city made more real
By the previous experience of it in books, film, television, and art
To be here in the flesh
Wandering the streets of London
Smelling the city
Watching the workers scurrying away
Women in sneakers and stockings
Men in suits and ties
The same brands on nearly every corner

Stone and glass walls built side by side 

It feels like I must be in an elaborate set

Some two thousand years in the making

The end. 

Mary Poppins She Wrote

Mary Poppins came into my life

Because she floated daily

Into our loungeroom

The VHS watched and rewound and re-watched

So endlessly 

That the tape eventually died 

There has always been Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane

The toys have always flown into their cupboards with a click

Julie Andrews has always been Mary Poppins 

Years later 

On an excursion for Writing History

A pre-honours class in research and writing

The librarian at the State Library has pulled out a stack of papers 

Random examples of the items held there

The letters of P.L. Travers 

Did you know that the author of the Mary Poppins books,

Upon which the movie was based,

Was an Australian? 

That there were disagreements between the original author and Disney

(Corporation betraying the Writer) 

Graduation, a world trip, heart break, meditation, later

I was running in a park

And found a statue of Mary Poppins

(Unveiled by my aunt!) 

To commemorate that P.L. Travers had lived in Sydney

Just a few blocks from my house 

Another time

Listening to Mornings with Margaret

A fascinating interview with Valerie Lawson

About the biography she has written 

The thought, “I must read that”

Filed away and forgotten 

Later, in London 

Wandering through the library 

And Valerie Lawson’s Mary Poppins She Wrote 

Sitting there on the shelf

And from the woods of Virginia I read

P.L. Travers

Never identified as Australian

Had left and, but for one short visit, never returned

Felt New York was her spiritual home 

Hated the movie 

Never found love

Never found peace

Was eternally searching 

Knowing the postscript is delicious 

And heart-breaking

And joyous 

Where do I fit? 

I’m no P.L. Travers

I haven’t even been published yet

And yet something stirs

Identifies 

And today,

The sky is blue.

The end. 

St Paul's

You're standing outside St Paul's Cathedral
That giant dome
That signifier of your childhood
Mary Poppins on VHS
Watching it and rewinding it and watching it and rewinding it until the tape falls apart
And you think:
What brings us to a place?

Depression when you were fourteen.
Sitting on the train on that bright blue sky day and realizing
You don't feel anything
And then all those intervening years.

The deaths of two friends. Young women like you. They decided they couldn't do it anymore.
Sitting at Coogee Beach and looking out to the ocean and wondering what on earth was next.
Learning about mindfulness.
Two years and a world trip later.
Waiting for the hair dressers and chatting with the woman, a stranger, sitting next to you.
She told you how you could do a certificate in Meditation.
Who was that woman???

And then Kris.
And then London.
And then meeting another woman on the train.
A random conversation, a chance encounter, and you've met a kindred spirit.

And then you are standing outside St. Paul's Cathedral and the familiarity of it, the instant I'm-home of it is shocking every time.
That tall grand building with its dome lit the way it is
It makes you gasp.
It's so much a part of you,
A part of your childhood,
Despite the fact you grew up over 10,000 miles away.

And then you're inside The Anthologist.
A bar in Central London.
And there are birdcages and tea cups and mason jars full of tea lights.
And there is a group of women, with the occasional man, gathered to talk about mindfulness
Strong, radiating women, with a mission to change the world one meditation at a time.

And you're here because of a chance (synchronistic) encounter on a train
Or because you watched Mary Poppins on repeat as a child
Or because you had depression and you learnt about mindfulness and because the world is small it all leads back to the same place eventually

And you stand outside St Paul's
And you let the cold air rush into your nostrils (breathing mindfully)
And then you laugh because you're on your way home on the tube!
Tell that to your fourteen year old self, or even your four-year-old self,
Dear You/Me/Us. Guess what? You grow up and fall in love and move to London and walk past St. Paul's Cathedral and mingle with people in fancy bars and one day you even climb to the top of the dome and you kiss a boy with the rooftops of London as your backdrop. For real.

What brings us here?
Fate? Synchronicity? Chance?
The world.
The end.

It's a Jolly Holiday with Mary

So it seems Mary Poppins is taking over my world.
I'm seeing her everywhere.

A couple of weeks ago I discovered her in my local park.

Last week I saw her at the Capitol Theatre.

That night I even got to shake Mr Banks’ hand (well really it was Philip Quast, who is even cooler, and it is lovely to meet people from your childhood, people who unknowingly sang and danced into your loungeroom and heart and soul every afternoon on Playschool). 

And then Mary’s image appeared on banners all over the city.

And then this week I heard an interview on Margaret Throsby with Valerie Lawson who is P.L. Travers’ biographer. 

And then tonight walking down George St (how apt!) I discovered that Town Hall has become Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane! 

Hallo, hallo, hallo! What have we here then?!

Chimney sweeps and umbrellas lit with fairy lights tumbling out of Town Hall! 

And the night was crisp

And the air was fresh

And it made me smile

Because anything can happen if you let it

Town Hall is transformed for the official Opening Night of "Mary Poppins", Sydney

The three (seriously happy) sisters and Philip Quast

Anything Can Happen

Imagine that as a child you watched Mary Poppins on repeat and there are countless million times you have watched Mary float down from the sky and dish out coloured spoonfuls of goodness and hold the beak of her umbrella and say that will be quite enough of that thank you! And as that little child you wished and prayed that Mary would one day actually fly into your world. And then imagine one day you are living in a place you have never lived before and one morning you go out for a jog. And you are in the park and next to the playground you spy a statue of Mary Poppins. And there she is with her feet in perfect first position and her umbrella held above her head and the familiarity of her makes you gasp. And even more surprising is the discovery that P.L. Travers (who wrote the original books upon which the movie was based) once lived just a short jog from your house. And the person who unveiled the statue six years ago is your aunty. And it is surprising. And it is lovely. And your inner six year old says that is too cool. Mary Poppins lives at my park. 

  

The Life I Lead

to dance around the living room

to watch cyd with her legs up to eternity flirt with gene

who danced in the rain laced with milk

so it would be more visible on camera

to watch yul and deborah

one-two-three-and across the royal palace of what is now Thailand 

but used to be called Siam

etcetera etcetera etcetera!

to have tea with jam and bread on the mountains of austria

maria and mary are your nannies

julie is magical because she sings and dances and appears in two different movies with different coloured hair and rescues the children of europe and england from their sad fathers

just a spoonful of sugar and imagination and pop into the pavement to win races

singing makes everybody happy 

even retired grumpy sea captains

yes sir!

to want to be a part of that world

to be a strong princess

to be like barbara and fiercely independent and capable

just leave everything to meeee

hello dolly, hello dolly, it’s so nice 

to one day find yourself transported

from the land of oz to the rooftops of london 

and all you have to do is click your shiny red shoes together

and wish and pray your life could be enchanted

the end.