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The lounge of my Auckland family home, two nights before SHEEP’s first show of the tour…

She was pulling the curtains across the windows when I snuck into the lounge, not noticing as I took a seat on the couch and sunk into the cushions. My fingers began interweaving - I was curious. “Hey mum,” I said, startling her. “I was wondering something.” She tugged the last curtain over the window, and came to sit on the other couch. “What’s that, honey?” 

“Well, I wanted to know why you and Dad chose ‘St Clair’ as my middle name.” I still didn’t know story behind it, and yet, three years had passed since I had decided that ‘Joshua St Clair’ was the perfect moniker I could have as an Artist - it just sounded right. Mum looked surprised. “I really loved the name St Clair,” she began, looking up at the corner of the room thoughtfully. “I was pregnant with you when we attended Olive Bottings funeral. She was your great grandmother. I remember sitting there, reading the funeral brochure, and seeing that her name was actually Olive St Clair Botting. We didn't even know she had a middle name, and ‘St Clair’ really stuck out to me for some reason. I decided right then that St Clair would be your middle name.” She gave me a warm smile.

“Hmm, that’s cool,” I said slowly. “I was just wondering, because there’s a St Clair beach in Dunedin, and, I mean, Dunedin is my new home now. It just seems kind of strange to me.” Mum got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, still smiling as she reached for the kettle. "Well it was said in the eulogy,” she began telling me as she filled up the kettle, “that she was named after the beach her parents landed on. St Clair beach, in Dunedin.” The story left my dumbfounded, especially considering that I was just about to head down the country to Dunedin with my band SHEEP, on what I had already dubbed a ‘pilgrimage’. She reached for a tin from the cupboard. “Tea?”

Three weeks later, after the tour

The sand felt like silk between my toes, and the salty sea air tasted like freedom. Waves endlessly climbed up the beach as if trying to reach me, and whooshed back into the ocean after being unsuccessful in their efforts. St Clair beach. Where Dunedin and the ocean met. Epic place, I thought as I made my way back up to the esplanade, slipping my Feiyues back on when I reached the brick walpkway. I was amazed at how many people were out enjoying the day, walking dogs and eating ice cream. St Clair was alive and cheerful. I suppose it was summer, after all.

Strolling along, I wondered about St Clair beach. It seemed all too coincidental, really, that my journey in the South Island took me here to Dunedin, the home of St Clair beach. It was three years since I dubbed myself ‘Joshua St Clair’ - back when I didn’t even know that ‘St Clair’ beach even existed - and two years since moving to Queenstown on a journey of self discovery. And my passage in the mountains showed me my true quest in life; showed me that ‘Joshua St Clair’ was far more than just my name as an Artist, for my music, writing and videos. ‘Joshua St Clair’ represented the vision of my highest self and my spiritual journey. And it was through my Art that I was going to express that vision.

Upon that discovery came my decision to move to Dunedin. I knew that Dunedin flourished in the Arts, so it seemed only natural to move here to live, to focus on mastering my various crafts and artistic/creative abilities and pursuits. But what fascinated me most about Dunedin was its kind of mystical nature or essence, which continued to reveal itself every time I crossed Central Otago while still living in Queenstown. During every single visit, something of a serendipitous nature always transpired. I couldn’t help but get the feeling that Dunedin was trying to tell me something, or show me something. 

I took a seat on one of the benches and gazed out at the ocean. Seagulls surfed the wind above me, and their calls were somewhat soothing, actually, dancing alongside the sound of the sea and laughter from children. Easing into a state of relaxation, I began thinking back on the chapter that had now been and gone. ‘The Prophecy and the Pilgrimage’. Another coincidence - Life wouldn’t let me just move to Dunedin and settle. Instead, it sent me on this wild tour across New Zealand with my good mates/punk band SHEEP, playing rowdy shows in small venues, down from Auckland all the way to Dunedin. It was almost like bringing the banner of ‘home’ from Auckland, through Queenstown, to Dunedin. 

And I almost doubted myself in calling it a ‘Pilgrimage’. It seemed kind of silly to dub a punk-band tour a spiritual journey at its core. But it really was that in my experience. Through my various contemplations along the way, it ended up leading me straight to the most magnificent mural in all of Dunedin upon our return - to the 5 Great Enlightened Beings, painted by Tommy Thomas. And it was he who told me of Falun Dafa, ‘The Great Way of the Universe’. After the journey I had been on, there was simply no denying what I had stumbled upon. Was I placing too much importance on the ‘St Clair’ happenstance? Or was it a sign of my destiny, to come to Dunedin, and to discover Falun Dafa?

Sitting there on the bench at St Clair beach, I pulled out my phone. Tommy Thomas had messaged me the details about the group - they practiced at the Train Station in town every Saturday, Sunday and Tuesday. I re-read the times. I better make my way. They start soon! I got up from the bench and hurried back to the Emerald Wagon. I was excited to finally discover what Falun Dafa was all about.

With one last glance over the wind-swept St Clair beach and the distant headlands, I lowered myself into the Emerald Wagon. This place gave me a tremendous sense of ‘New Zealand’. Queenstown never gave me that feeling. The mountains and lakes are breathtaking, there is no denying that. But it was never a place I could really call ‘Home’. Many people were even surprised when I told them I was a kiwi - indeed, New Zealanders are rare in Queenstown. But Dunedin has that grounded, kiwi vibe to it, and that rich culture and history, illustrated by its grand old buildings and its people. And the beach!

As I drove toward the city from St Clair beach along the gently curving roads, it seemed like nothing in this world could disturb my peace. It was the kind of peace you feel when you are wrapped snug in blankets, reading a book in your lamp-lit room as a storm swirls and cascades outside the house. The peace of Home. I was starting to feel that peace in my heart, here in Dunedin, and I knew that no matter where I found myself out there in the wide world, I would always call Dunedin my Home. Auckland was where I grew up - ‘tutorial island’ if you will. But I had long since moved on from Auckland, as a cicada moves on from its old shell, and I had journeyed forth to find my true dwelling. Dunedin was the home I had found. Or was it my destiny that brought me here?

Just as I reached town along the main road, I noticed a sign that said ‘Chinese Gardens’, and I immediately took the indicated turn. Chinese gardens?! I still have another 10 minutes until they start. At the end of the road was a magnificent arch, designed in the traditional Chinese style, just like I remembered from my trip to China when I was 12, and behind it a gorgeous building also of Chinese architecture. I parked my car there and went to behold the scene. It wasn't a vision of my imagination - there really was a Chinese Gardens in Dunedin! I was pleasantly surprised. Of all places in New Zealand, of course it was here in Dunedin. And only 5 minutes down from where I lived! Another coincidence. Actually, there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. I hopped back into the Emerald Wagon, saving the Chinese Gardens for another day.

The Train station was just down the road. It looked like a castle against the backdrop of hills, and the grass at its front was wonderfully green, surrounded by flowers of all colours. Lots of people milled about, and amongst them I spotted Tommy Thomas and a few others. I parked my car, and walked up to the small group, reading the sign before saying hello. 

They welcomed my with kind. Tommy Thomas was pleased to see me, and he took me aside to teach me the movements of the practice as the other three people began the exercises over there. It felt very natural to me, Qigong, as natural as breathing. It was relaxing and uplifting, and I couldn’t contain my smile as I stood there doing the gently curving movements. Ever since my first spiritual experience two and a half years prior, I had been doing my own meditation practice, stumbling along in the dark trying to understand spirituality and deepen my understanding of life and my place within it. Now, it seemed, I had true guidance. It was the practice I didn’t know I was searching for.

I felt very much at home practicing Falun Dafa, there at the Train station in the heart of Dunedin. Very much at home indeed.