The Meditation Teacher Training College

22/05/2024

My next course starts this weekend - not too late to sign up. This course is not just about meditation but how to develop excellent facilitation skills. Online and distance. Payment plans available. See you there.

Next Course May 26 2024 Sundays 10am-12noon for 16 weeks Full Cost $ 2250 Click on image for details ( scholarships available)

10/09/2023

Join me for a day of meditation.
Click on link to register

Join me for a day of meditation in Campbelltown. October 7 2023 For those new to meditation and those with much experience. 10am - 4pm at 11 Patrick St Campbelltown $50 for whole day/ $25 for part & concession 5pm Labyrinth walk _ Hurley Park Campbelltown _ Free Days program will in

04/08/2023

Full Cost You can pay between 1900 and 2500 Click on image for details

20/07/2023

Meditation Teacher Training start 6th August. Enroll now.
Cost $1,900-$2500

The Meditation Space at Patrick St in Campbelltown is currently closed. Please contact Sarah directly for information about meditation classes in Campbelltown.

21/05/2023

SO excited to announce the enrolments now open for the next course - starts August 6. Accredited meditation teacher training.

MTTC offers exciting online courses in Meditation Teacher Training. This is a synthesis of learning from a range of sources and life experiences.

06/11/2022

Hello! Updating to diploma course starts this weekend. Details and enrolment on www.themeditationspace.com.au hope you are all well.

03/11/2022

I have been following this wise philosopher for some time - profound words

I have been thinking about wounds as striation marks and fault lines that invisibly compose bodies prior to the event of injury. That is, wounds don't come after the fact: the surface might appear smooth, the membrane unpunctured and unperturbed, the skin at rest - but what wholeness occludes is the necessary tensions and troubling experiments in brokenness that keep things alive. We are indebted to this lack of coherence, to this playful gesturing that resists finality. In other words, we are never-not-broken - like the South Asian goddess Akhilandeshwari, whose name is an ode to brokenness. To be embodied is to be in flight. To be embodied is to be beside oneself, perpetually spilling away from resolution.

Thinking this way throws a strange light on the popular and hidden assumptions behind dominant concepts of healing and recovery. The modern tendency seems to be to begin our appraisal of bodies from the starting point of 'wholeness'. Any deviation from this image of normalcy is addressed as something to be fixed - with the prospects of full restoration held as a desirable outcome. But what if we began our stories about how our bodies come to matter - not from the hard portrait of completion, but from the softness of movement? What if we are - like a murmuration of dunlins - a 'drunken wounding' dancing with the sky? What if we are echoes of a great blast of life, shockwaves with no original explosion, drifting with spacetime in utter defiance of the modern myths of arrival? And what if what we mean by repair is less restitution to a lost original than it is a pairing-with-another-composite-body, a re-pair-ing, a borrowing of limbs and organs and tendons from the others around us in order to navigate the complexities of living and dying?

Perhaps nothing captures this ferocious reimagining of bodies as eddies of dust "counterfeiting immobility" like the Japanese art of kintsugi, an ancient technique that uses lacquer and gold powder to restore broken ceramics and porcelain vessels. I love the art form, mostly because it implicitly refuses to think of repair as restoration to an original image - and it does this by taking pains to acknowledge the presence of the interface, the decorated crack that marks the irretrievably altered vessel. To think about this art as mere restoration is to elide the agency and contributions of the lacquer, the new glial material that marks the once-quantum potencies and embryonic lines living beneath visibility. The first time I observed a kintsugi-repaired piece, I said to myself: "It's still broken; the artist has just mapped this rich encounter of loss, memory, and longing with gold." Kintsugi is the art that reminds us that everything is already broken.

To be re-paired is to be re-coupled-with-an/other in an ever-moving, carnivalesque and alien cavalcade of exchangeable organs and reiterable subjectivities. The monster is not the brutal beast standing in the way of our imperial march in imperviousness; the monster is the irresistible reminder of our molecular debt to this multi-species migritude of all things.

Bayo Akomolafe