Where do we begin? Here.
I like it here. This first winter is filled with weekly ecstatic dance followed by coffee at the beach, walks in nature on the cliffs and beaches, and discovering places I’ve hitherto not had time for. Porto Timoni in January is stunning and spacious though I’m not much of a swimmer or sailor, I’m dreaming of little boats in bays like this. At home the fire is cosy, and on sunny days there’s warm watery beauty between the thunderstorms. And some days it's astonishingly 15 degrees heat alongside the cool winds from the snowtopped mountains in Albania we see from the garden. Driving in my cute little lease car is a joy, I’m easily awed by the sunlight filtering the olive trees and the fading red and ochre-painted Corfiot villas with ancient doorways, and tiny village paths. There are breathtaking views around each bend. I only drove in Corfu for the first time last year so that was another satisfying accomplishment of a fear overcome. I love occasional trips to Corfu town to buy bits and pieces of homewares, discover shops and restaurants off-season and do ordinary things like getting a haircut or buying a fuse, crossing the threshold of hardware stores gradually. I see Ben and Sacha around and it feels good to keep connection and possibility.
These end-of-January days are the first I’ve had the place and time to myself. A time to reflect and plan, rest and hide. I love that there’s nowhere much to go and a limit on what to do. I haven’t moved much beyond the Arrillas Magoulades border yet as I settle; bonding with the house as we welcome each other into this new long-term relationship based on commitment, creativity, freedom and appreciation. Appreciation for what I’ve been given and for what I hope to create.
I’ve always had a sense of creating an arty, writerly, connecting, gathering place so I’m wondering how to do that. The heart of Mandala is dedicated to creativity and love and that’s the head-scratching next step, of translating everyday destiny into a lived reality. Somehow in small glimmers, new ideas and possibilities are emerging. Interesting people are asking to come and stay, I want to stack the house in favour of friends, and people coming to Buddha Hall, Evolve or Agape Zoe.
I do ask myself if I can really run a business like this. Why not? Who else is going to decide? I figure if I have at least a decade here, Mandala will be a journey over time. A contrast to the 90 days parcels I lived during Covid times, in Italy, Albania, Corfu, Mexico and Colombia. I liked those times, writing in beautiful places, mostly in solitude and quiet. It was restful the second month, once I settled. So I wonder how my wandering soul feels about staying here for a while. I’m glad I chose the peace of this time.
And in November 2023, my house in Hebden Bridge finally sold to a wonderful buyer. So with that small sigh of relief comes a big wave of appreciation for the patience, shared vision and trust in the process. I felt and feel the love and belief of so many. It was a daunting process at times, a lot of nerves were held.
And now I’m minding the gap between what is still owed and the luxury of creative freedom. What’s clear is what worked isn’t going to come close to being what’s needed for the future. 'Tis big to buy a house in a foreign country, leave a life of 15 years behind, and begin anew, and yet on some levels, I don’t feel scared by destiny, though I’m sometimes overwhelmed by buildings and business structures. That’s natural. Who wouldn’t be?
I can’t do this alone. I could never do this alone. What’s obvious Mandala needs a team - co-owners, fixers, gardeners, cooks, paying guests, bean-counters, painters, cleaners and creators if it’s going to be a refuge, intentional community, healing, holiday and events space. I watched Swimmers while I was back in the UK in November, a deeply moving film, so I’m aware of how privileged I’ve been to land in Greece with a wad of cash (not mine) and be given access to sun, beauty and comfort. While magic undoubtedly happened, it’s humbling. I ask myself and the guides who brought me here regularly, “How am I to use this privilege wisely?”