'Field Of Dreams'

Article by Glenn Leon, the Trusts former Editor printed in ‘The Circulator’, reflecting on his time in the ‘Gym’ early in his journey..    -   Glenn passed away 1st. May 2009   -   He achieved his dream.

Here I stand in the middle of the torture chamber, otherwise known as the 4^th floor Therapy Department, and I have just finished riding the exercise bike for my allotted 15 minutes.    I really feel like I have ridden to Sydney and back so far but of course, I am going nowhere and not very fast at that.

Lou, also referred to as ‘the wicked witch’ when she is not around, glances around the room to ensure that everybody is doing their best.    The now familiar “if you’ve got the breath to chatter you’re not working hard enough” suddenly bellows around the room.   You know the usual scene, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Time to start the walking stage of my mornings exercise program - off to the not too friendly treadmill, set the speed and I’m away.   Once I settle down and look out of the window, the huffing and puffing is receding as I am embraced by the beauty and serenity of Fawkner Park.   I begin to notice the smallest detail - birds hovering from branch to branch, people sitting on the benches talking and eating a sandwich, some more hurrying along the paths, kids playing on the grass.   All the things some many people take for granted.   Only when it’s taken away do we notice……….

My ponderings are interrupted.   “How is it going?........  How do you rate your breathing……Exertion?...”   I rate the BORG Scale, and then carry on, back into my field of dreams.

This time it feels like I’m really there, moving down those paths, feeling the wind and the sun on my skin, hearing the birds singing and the kids playing…….. And then the 15 minutes are up, I am back in the room and somewhat heavier and feeling tired.

Funny how my dream of becoming well enough to walk around this park, or another like it, was nurtured right here of the 4^th Floor, looking out the window.   The early visions of walking the dog, kicking a ball and playing with my granddaughter grew and were incubated here, within the safety of the gym and the company of my fellow inmates.

My yearning to do the simple things, the things I had not been able to do for such a long time, my ‘field of dreams’ were nurtured, grown and then harvested right here - a place which so many people just take for granted.

Fawkner Park – it weaved its magic then and it does so now, on those who are in need. 

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