Creating Space Project

Marlys grew up on the border of Switzerland and Germany, in a rural village, at the time of World War Two. She describes her childhood as simple and very basic. Nothing was ever wasted.  Marlos vividly evokes those days for us – wind rippling through cornfields, pedalling uphill from school and fighting with her sister. Frugality, respect, and working hard are the themes in this interview. This is the story your grandmother tells you about different times. It's beautiful and strangely comforting.

"The elders come and we sit around and have a yarn. We sit around and tell each other stories."   Jayarna is Indigenous. As a child, her father left. As a result, she became disconnected from her culture.   Now, as an adult, she and her father have rebuilt a relationship. She has reconnected with her Aboriginal culture, which she describes as being a relationship.   “It’s like something’s missing and next minute you don’t feel that anymore. And something’s filled it.”   This is a story to warm you in a time when the world seems bleak. It’s about valuing culture and family. It’s about developing your own sense of spirituality.   It’s a story from an inspirational and humble woman. It was an honour to listen to her.

Ngan arrived in Australia as a 6-year-old with her family.   The second time they tried to escape from Vietnam, she was 2 years old. The boat capsized in a storm, and her father kept her and her 4-year-old brother afloat, with her mother, until they were rescued.   They spent four years in a camp before being given a visa to come to Australia as refugees.   In this interview, we hear about what it’s like to settle as a refugee in Australia, coping with bullies at school, feeling grateful for support from the Australian community, and exploring the question of where you belong.   This interview reinforces my sense of gratitude that Australia has refugees.   Ngan is a powerful force for social good. She has spent most of her adult life supporting others who are in need. 

Ngan loves to travel.   “Travelling and meeting people gives me that sense of belonging and then identity, and understanding where I fit in this world.”   During a year of travelling the world, Ngan and her partner spent her birthday in Iceland. The experience, anticipated for ten years, was magical.   “It’s a space that’s so uninhabited by people.”   Volcano ash. Fertile soil. Grass in abundance. Snow capped mountains.   Waterfalls with double rainbows. Drinking cold fresh water from streams that flowed down from the glacier.   “As if I’m a child again and I’m rediscovering all these new things around me.”   Being in Iceland, in the enormity of its physicality, was a spiritual experience. It highlighted Ngan’s values of being connected with nature, of being conscious that she is part of a bigger picture. The human, physical and spiritual forms of this world intertwine and co-inhabit, and in Iceland, Ngan was able to be very conscious of that, as well as of an inner space and freedom that opened up inside her

As a non-Muslim, I am unfamiliar with the Quran. So, I decided to go to Lakemba Mosque, in Sydney, where I was made to feel exceptionally welcome. I asked a young Muslim woman to share with me a verse that she finds particularly inspiring. The result is this interview.   Chapter 39 Verse 53 "Say Oh my servants who have transgressed against themselves by sinning, do not despair of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins. Indeed, it is He who is the forgiving, the merciful."   For this young woman, this verse is about hope. It is an inspiration to be a better person.   She believes it is important to have a balance of hope and fear in life. She believes it is important to have a connection to something in life and, for her, that is religion.   My hope, for this interview, is that in listening, there is the opportunity to learn about what another person holds in common with me, as well as to simply notice, without judgement, what it is that separates us.

Always the Fourth Floor is the podcast episode you get when the sound guy needs a break.   It's a song written by myself, Ruth Nelson, and Ben Munday. Always the Fourth Floor is about working with refugees, newly arrived in Sydney, Australia.   We're not professional musicians. We just love music.   I've been pretty nervous about uploading this as an episode. But I guess I value taking a risk, especially the risk of failing and looking foolish. And my three year old keeps getting me to play this episode over and over. So... here it is.   Hope you enjoy the song. If you don't, forgive me and don't unsubscribe! We'll be back to normal the episode after next! Thanks for your patience.

My cousin’s daughter, Amy, is turning 21. As a birthday present for her, I interviewed her grandmother, Carolyn. She told me about a phone call, in 1995, telling her that Amy, her first grandchild, had been born.   The birth of the first grandchild is an important and very happy occasion.   “In the background I could hear little sniffles.”   “A little cradle… a little darkhaired, rounded baby.”   Carolyn hopes that Amy understands how much she is loved by her family and extended family. Carolyn deeply values the preciousness of life, and the importance of family.   “The birth of that child was so important.”   She hopes that, when Amy is a grandmother herself, she tells her grandchildren stories of her early life with Carolyn and other family members, and that Amy appreciates the time she gets to spend with those children.

Christine met Rodney in a boarding house in Sydney. She introduced herself to him and the two fell in love. That’s as simple, and as complicated, as this story gets. They go bowling and are known to friends as the lovebirds.   He said “I don’t want to lose you.”   They hope to get married. Christine wants to wear a white dress and a veil. They are saving for a honeymoon on a cruise ship.   There are many losses in life. Christine and Rodney have both had their share. Christmas Day, for Christine, as for so many people, is a very sad time.   “Because at Christmas, it’s my mother’s birthday.”   But, for Christine, Christmas with Rodney feels good. She gets to put down her sadness.   “I’m happy with him.”   Isn't that a lot to be grateful for? To be happy with the person you love.   This interview is about simple abundance.

“They’re talking about my brain MRIs and my blood tests and all my clinical symptoms and then just as an aside to me, when something is happening in the discussion, my specialist says ‘Because you tested positive for these antibodies, by the way,’ and this was the first I’d heard of this diagnosis.”   Rhiannon was grateful to receive a diagnosis and for the quality of medical care she is receiving. At the same time, she felt powerless and excluded to learn of her diagnosis in a presentation of her case by her specialist to the immunology team.   “I guess I was expecting… that would change everything, like when I had the diagnosis, I would suddenly be able to start acting and be more focused and positive, and it would be this moment when I could take charge of my illness. And I think, the way I found out, made it really clear that was not in fact going to change anything.”   It wasn’t until she listened back to the story we recorded, that Rhiannon realised how hurt she felt about the experience.   “If you aske

In her early 20s, Sharnie had a boss who believed women belonged in the kitchen and bedroom. At the time, she felt that she somehow encouraged his attitude and that she should have known how to handle the situation.   Now, Sharnie has a lot of wisdom to offer on self-compassion, letting go of shame, and accepting other people for who they are, rather than judging them according to a label.   “New situations come up and we often don’t know how to handle them. Certainly not gracefully or tactfully.”   “We choose to dislike people based on those labels. Someone could choose to dislike me because I’m female. And they could choose to dislike my son because he’s male. And that’s got nothing to do with who we are.”   Sharnie believes it’s important to be responsible for your own actions. She chooses to live with respect and kindness for other people, while understanding that you can’t impose your own values onto others.   “I don’t like to see people get hurt. So the value is that I can live with myself knowing that

What’s it like to be the first in your family or the first in your community to study at university? Kara gathers stories from students who are in that position. Many of the students are Aboriginal.   Kara reflects on what she is learning from listening to these incredibly resilient students about injustice and their desire to help their communities heal from the damage done by colonisation.   “I think the more I listen… the more I realise I have no concept or understanding, not just about Aboriginal culture and Aboriginal history and Australian history, but about everything. The more I learn, the more I realise I know nothing.”   “What you can do is really ensure that the time that you’ve got, you live well and you live with purpose and you live with respect.”

“Farming, I think, is one of the most vital things you can do. If we don’t eat, we die.”   But how to do it without harming the earth…   Raised in the city, Alice left teaching to study Sustainable Agriculture and Food Security. She has started her own business, using Community Supported Agriculture, and is being mentored by the farmer she works for.    “I want my customers to be able to come to the farm to see how the food’s grown and maybe even volunteer to work on the farm... so that it becomes a community asset.”   Motivated by a passion for being of service, and wanting to model, to her daughter, being true to yourself, Alice holds a strong sense of purpose.   “I think the earth does have a spirit and I think… there’s a lot of trust placed on us to look after it. It’s a responsibility we have.”

In December 2015, a month after terrorist attacks, Heba and her husband were flying out of Paris. When it came time to present their passports, they met with a hostility that frightens her to this day. “The expression on his face really sticks in my mind a lot. He was glaring, he looked so angry, so mad.” Heba is a young Muslim-Australian of Lebanese background. She wears a headscarf. Her treatment at the airport in Paris was because of her religion.  “Considering what had happened in November, just before that… I totally understand why it would have been that way. So I was very cognisant of that. If someone looked at me, I would smile, just to make sure they felt comfortable around me." The assumptions that we can presume the immigration officials held were in stark contrast to the values held by Heba: peace and calm.  “I value peace. I love peace.”

Jackie is a young Indigenous woman from a remote community in rural Australia. She is studying criminal justice at university, with the goal of helping the kids in her home town.   In this interview, she talks about her passion for helping others, for making a difference in other people’s lives, especially the lives of young people, and how those values emerged in her life.   “As an Indigenous person, I get told a lot that I’m never going to amount to anything because I am Indigenous. But you have that one person, like the youth worker, the Indigenous support officer at the uni, they tell you otherwise, they tell you you’ve got potential, you’re gonna get somewhere.”   “I want to stop racism. I know it’s never going to happen. But I have that hope of stopping racism. I know what it feels like to be the victim of that and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way.”   “I want everyone to feel what I feel on a daily basis from my family and friends. And if I can do that for some young person and make them feel t

A pink dress with shoe polish on its bottom. A train made of fish and chips. A hut by the beach. Nanny Kim tells her granddaughters a story about a childhood holiday. Then we hear Tara and Zoe reflect on it. Happiness. Love. The helpfulness of a family passed down generation to generation.  The insight and wisdom of children, when we remember to listen to them.  

Denise talks about volunteering in Sri Lanka in the mid 90s. She went with her husband and two young children, and was pregnant at the time. She delivered her baby at home, in a small village in the middle of Sri Lanka, assisted by her husband and best friend. Amidst the beauty of mountains, waterfalls, and elephants walking through the village, Denise raised her young children, dancing around the couch and opening, joyfully, the parcels sent from Australia.   Connecting with people - your family and friends, the person next to you on an aeroplane - and enjoying where you are – being in the moment – are some of the themes that emerge in this interview.

Sr Susan has been asked to obtain a visa for another religious sister, whose father, in Ireland, is dying. On Saturday afternoons in Canberra, in 1976, nothing is open. Least of all the Irish embassy.   Anyone who knows Sr Susan Connelly is well aware that she is a powerful force for good in this world, advocating tirelessly for social justice, especially for the people of East Timor.   In this interview, she reflects on some of what she values and how that emerged in her life.   We catch sight of the importance of living off your wits, being willing to get involved, and holding a belief that there is always a way. We hear about the importance of communion – a kind of unity – with people with whom you have a shared past, a common history.   She believes in the importance of public education and the importance of Gonski funding in Australia, to ensure all children receive an adequately resourced education.   Sr Susan attributes much of her strong-mindedness to her parents. Recognising the place of nature, she

Lee is the daughter of the Australian realist artist, Nutter Buzacott (1905-1976). This year, Lee curated an exhibition of her father’s work in the Lismore Regional Gallery. In this interview, Lee talks about her father’s art and her relationship with that art. A former communist and a humanist, the impression that is left is of a man who closely observed people and landscapes. His art allows the viewer to see something of people’s real life. And I think that’s worth looking at. Those people, in my father’s art, are not going to change the world. They’re ordinary people, in ordinary clothes, making a contribution. I think what I’d like people to do is wonder about these people. To wonder. Why are those little kids playing cricket in that back yard? What are those Salvation Army people standing under that tree playing for? What are they hoping to get out of life? I’d just like us to wonder about them.