January 2024
Although I’ve felt on mute for a while, this morning I woke up to a wonderful email from my brilliant lawyer that says my residency visa is ready. Wooooh, that completes a long process, I’m going to pick it up tomorrow and that’s exciting me beyond all reason. Deep breath out. My European renaissance soul is singing and my inner rebel 7w8 is putting two fingers up to the stupidity and sadness I felt at Brexit. My mind is fast-forwarding to hanging out in gorgeous spots in Europe more often and not counting 90-day parcels.
And I also quietly didn’t say that in November, 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, leaving 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. Maybe they’re just different strata of fear?
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 refuge, intentional community, healing, holiday & events space. I watched Swimmers while I was back in UK in November, a deeply moving film, so I’m aware of how privileged I’ve been to walse into Greece with a wad of cash (not mine) and be given access to sun, beauty and comfort. While magic undoubtedly happened, it’s humbling. 82% was about right. So now, how to use this privilege wisely?
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 on the cliff, the fire is cosy, and on sunny days there’s warm watery beauty between the thunderstorms. Mandala attracts interesting people for sure. At the moment, the house is blessed by Kostas, a disillusioned university professor turned surfer, taking a break from the inconvenience of van life and a volunteer called Mathilde who’s transforming the garden, rustling trees and cacti, stopping up mouse runs, making fermented kumquat preserve and generally being an ace right-hand woman. She’s off to work with refugees on Lesbos next month and there’ll be a gap. And 28 shutters and a house to paint. If you’re handy with a roller or paintbrush and you want workaway time, the Madame is all ears.
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 steps, of translating everyday destiny into a lived reality. Somehow in small steps, new ideas and possibilities are emerging. Interesting people are asking to come and stay. So, before publishing a website or on Airbnb, I want to stack the house in favour of friends, and people coming to Buddha Hall, Evolve or Agape Zoe first.
I do ask myself if I can really run a business like this. Why not? Who else is going to decide?!
