We’re searching for meaning and curious about Indigenous ways of living, and what ancient knowledge can teach us
first day of the rest of our lives.” Dwayne BannonHarrison’s words hang in the damp morning air. A choir of cicadas is humming a tune in the background, like a welcome party that’s here to meet us. One by one, we say good morning to Grandfather Sun. It’s a meditation that Bannon-Harrison’s ancestors, the Yuin people of south-eastern New South Wales, have been practising for thousands and thousands of years. “Yesterday happened,” continues Bannon-Harrison. “We can learn from it and acknowledge it. But yesterday is not today.”
I’ve heard various versions of this mantra over the years, in yoga classes and on meditation apps. But this morning it hits differently. Either it’s exactly what I need to hear – which isn’t out of the question – or the magic of standing here on Yuin Country, in the presence of Mount Gulaga, the sacred birthplace of the Yuin people, is beginning to take hold. I feel awake and invigorated, even a little possessed by the power of it all. And I haven’t even had a cup of coffee.
It’s late December, and I’m about six hours’ drive south of Sydney near the sleepy town of Narooma at the Yuin Retreat. For two days, I’ll be immersed in the culture, dreaming and history of the original owners of the region, which stretches from the Shoalhaven River in the north to Mallacoota down south, and inland to the Great Dividing Range. Bannon-Harrison, a Yuin man, has been operating cultural tours of the area for nine years. He began under the guidance of his grandfather, Uncle Max “Dulumunmun” Harrison, but today he runs them through his own company, Ngaran Ngaran Culture Awareness.
He says that recently, more and more young people have been signing up to the retreat. As for why, Bannon-Harrison has a few ideas: Firstly, there’s a want within our generation to better
“TODAY IS THE
understand, appreciate and elevate Aboriginal culture. But we’re also busy, not typically spiritual and pretty out of tune with the Earth’s circadian rhythm. We are, to use the terminology of our times, burnt out. We’re searching for meaning and therefore curious about Indigenous ways of living, and what ancient knowledge can teach us about the great conundrum that is life. Primed by the events of 2020, this is the mentality I pull into the retreat with.
The experience begins with a Welcome to Country, which is performed by Bannon-Harrison on the banks of Nangudga Lake, not far from where we’re staying. Rain is forecast and the sky is grumbling, but it grants us enough time to experience the traditional smoking ceremony. The foliage being burnt gives off a toasty, citrusy fragrance, and I’m eager to know what it is. “I’ll get to that in a sec,” says our guide, as he blows some oxygen on the small bouquet to keep it alight. We’re given a red piece of wool to tie around our heads, which is a gesture of inclusiveness to visitors coming onto Yuin Country that shows deference to the sacredness of the sites visited. Bannon-Harrison calls us forward and welcomes us to Country in his native tongue. The ceremony concludes with some traditional dances, such as one inspired by umbarra, the black duck, which is the traditional totem of the Yuin nation.
It’s only after the formalities that Bannon-Harrison shares the contents of his fire: lemon myrtle and tea tree, mixed in with some