Volume 16: The Stories Between
G'day from a hotel room in Albany.
How did you show up today? I wonder about what songs you play for yourself. Here's mine for this this week.
Last 3 weeks were steady enough. I think I've delivered to roughly 2000 people this reconciliation week. It's all one big grateful blur.
My newest problem is that I'm sitting on a mountain of stories and can't mine them as efficiently as I want. At Modern Custodian, I am currently the:
artist in residence
lead facilitator
chief storyteller
head of marketing
and sole archaeologist digging through years of proof, photos, feedback, drawings, emails, and little moments that say, "something important happened here."
I'm going to go through my phone and share some pics of some highlights of the last few weeks. In no particular order.
All In
I have in fact have had a few people email me photos and stories of their quest. I like this, because I designed this quest not to be 'submitted' to me, yet people choose to anyway - and for this I am happy. "All In" has one objective, return you to yourself. Country does this, and I suspect there are more of you doing this than I originally anticipated.
Right here is an important spot. I sit here in silence and things come to me. The idea for All In came to me whilst here:
I will be hosting my public wander on Saturday here. Curious to see who shows up. I wonder if any one of you enjoy climbing trees?
My Sydney mates
Crossed paths with two very important people whilst I was over east. One new friend, one old.
Firstly, the new friend.
This is Libby. Libby and I met through Xero. She leads the RAP committee along with other brilliant minds and hearts. I told Libby I was coming over east and wanted to come into Xero HQ and say hello to her and the team. Those plans fell through, so instead Libby decides to invite me to see William Barton and the Sydney Symphany.
I would describe Libby as generously intelligent. She keeps 100 tabs open at all times and expertly navigates through them with precision and grace.
It's nice to make new friends, especially during this season.
Secondly, the old friend.
This is David. David goes by "Lenno", but I knew him as "Squiggle" back in high school.
There's a lot I can say about David. We used to do highschool musicals together and hang out on the odd occasions. A confession: first time I ever drank (and got drunk) was at his 18th. I was 15. You'll always remember the first time, and it was David I have to thank for that memory.
The man's in media. He used to host a show on NOVA called Lenno, and now he still works for them whilst also running his own podcast. He's a master communicator, and a warm spirit. David is still the same bloke as I knew him back then, so catching up with him for the first time in many, many years, felt organic and overdue.
Here's a YouTube video I posted 19 years ago of us backflipping him in my pool.
Holy shit I'm getting old.
Acknowledge This success
It's all changed now.
Acknowledge This has crossed some invisible line.
I've spent the last few weeks mining feedback, emails, LinkedIn posts, survey responses and conversations. I've crunched the numbers and the language is remarkably consistent.
People aren't describing Acknowledge This as training anymore.
They're describing it as an experience. Not because that's what I told them it was, but because that's the language they keep choosing on their own.
People aren't talking about information, they're talking about feelings.
Confidence.
Connection.
Relief.
Permission.
Presence.
And that feels significant.
Don't take my word for it. Here are a few of theirs:
“The scripts have fulfilled their purpose to help us implement Acknowledgements of Country. Now it’s time to speak from the heart.”
“Thank you Rhys for helping me get off script and not be perfect.”
“I have already had several people reach out, excited to deliver their next Acknowledgement of Country in a more meaningful and personal way.”
That last line matters to me because the goal was never to create a better script. The goal was to help people feel confident enough to stop hiding behind one.
Two honourable mentions:
1. Jackson McDonald (& BDO)
These lawyers and accountants were electric.
I loved walking into this room. Classy people. The kind of professionals who aren't afraid to laugh at themselves.
And laugh we did.
Specifically at their own website.
This is the Acknowledgement of Country that appears on the Jackson McDonald homepage:
"Jackson McDonald acknowledges and pays tribute to the Whadjuk People of the Noongar Nation as the Traditional Owners and Custodians of Boorloo (Perth), where our offices are located by the Derbal Yerrigan, and the Boodja (Country) on which we live and work. We pay our respect to their Elders past and present. We further acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of Country across the continent. We recognise their continuing connection to land, sky, waters, and community, and pay our respect to their Peoples, their Elders and their continuing Cultures.
Liability limited by a scheme approved under Professional Standards Legislation."
Beautiful.
Thoughtful.
Respectful.
Then immediately underneath:
Liability limited by a scheme approved under Professional Standards Legislation.
The emotional whiplash nearly took me out.
Imagine delivering an Acknowledgement of Country and finishing with:
"...and we pay our respects to Elders past and present. Liability limited by a scheme approved under Professional Standards Legislation."
Lawyers, man.
I'm laughing again as I type this.
2. Crown Solicitors Office
It's Tuesday afternoon and I head over to the Crown Solicitor's Office while they're in the middle of relocating to another building.
Emissary Nick Cheesely walks me into this humble room and I begin setting up.
What you're looking at here is easy to miss.
Five women.
Different backgrounds.
Different careers.
Different stories.
All gathered together for a brief moment in time.
I'm used to delivering Acknowledge This to large rooms filled with hundreds of people, so sessions like this are surprisingly rare.
What I love about groups this size is the intimacy. There's space to slow down. Space to listen. Space to learn about each person's connection to Country and the experiences that have shaped them.
Sessions like this rarely make it into the highlight reel. No packed auditorium. No standing ovation. No dramatic photo.
Just six people in a room sharing stories. That's worth honouring too.
So thank you, Nick, and thank you ladies, for allowing me to be part of your journey for a little while.
Dassit
Cheers again for being on the journey.
I reckon try to slow down by 20% this week. Do some cloudgazing. It's like stargazing, but during the day.
I am now talking to myself and to you. Like reflections in a mirror. Like our old people used to do.
and in the words of Bruce Lee, Be water, my friend.
Bye for now.
The Custodian.