Author: kingsleyflett

‘I see her in a different light now. A more honest light. Not just one that comes from being her mum. The photos were a wake-up call for me.  She isn’t that little girl who used to fall asleep on my lap anymore.’ If evolution was only about individual survival, then variety would be stripped … Continue reading Our Uniqueness, Reflected

She sang all the way home from school on the back of my bike. Across the railway line and up the steep road that had paddocks on one side, and the town on the other. We were a few years away from saying good bye to our innocence. But even so, it was the beginning … Continue reading The Reunion

There were some songs that we couldn’t sing. Songs that the government had banned. We knew if we sang them, that our parents would get in trouble because the authorities would want to know ‘who taught you those songs.’ I remember one day when the soldiers came into the house with their guns. Even when … Continue reading Pedro

Climbing sea cliffs is a lot harder than it looks. As I heard one indoor climbing gym graduate shout-out after being three moves into what looked like a simple climb ‘there’s #@*% nothing to hold on to!’ All those bumps, cracks and seams have been weathered smooth over a few hundred million years and every … Continue reading Sweaty palms and the power of being nicer to each other

Turack was sitting on a bale near the loading bay of the shearing shed eating some home-made rice concoction from a plastic tub and staring out into the cool morning air. ‘How long have you been shearing’ I said. ‘About ten years’ ‘So what’s the secret to it?’ I asked. He smiled and looked out … Continue reading How Stories Matter

‘I haven’t led for a few months’ she said. ‘I want to build back up to it, but I’m not fit enough yet’ It was twenty years ago for me, but I could recall how leading a climb is appreciably more dangerous, especially when you are putting your own protection in. But how that extra … Continue reading The Power of Commitment

It seems like this year has had a bit of a theme – that what you see along your personal path might only look reasonable to you. I’ve seen a guy build a luxury hotel in my old town. Which is right out on the edge of the mallee, sits on about 40m of clay, … Continue reading On Being Unreasonable

During WWII, Churchill was asked to cut funding for the arts. He replied, ‘Then what are we fighting for?’ I first read that quote maybe 10 years ago and I so wish it was true but I’m pretty sure Churchill never said anything like it. I like the sentiment though. I like how Tim Winton … Continue reading Useless Beauty and When the Going Gets Weird