​​I’m lying on my back on a scratched, leather lounge, trying to block out the intrusive airport intercoms announcing the next departure.  Two hours down and only three hours more to go till my flight home to Hobart.  My brain is filled with jetlag and my previously clear thoughts have been replaced by a murkier mess.  Somewhere between Finland and Melbourne self-doubt has crept into my grey matter, leaving me wondering one of the big questions in life, ‘Where does empowerment come from, both my own self-empowerment and the ability to influence others?’ 
 
Today I am returning from Finland where I was assisting the Australian Junior Orienteering Team with their preparations for their World Championships.  Amongst the forests and lakes, I had felt my skills, academia and life experiences uniting to support each team member to perform wilder.  I would start each day with an early morning explore, cruising along the lake’s edge, finding animal paths through the forest undergrowth.  The lake was often mirror calm so after the run I would slip into the gleaming water.  For one week, this was my shower.  And after rewarming myself with two or three cups of tea, I can honestly say I was ready to empower anything, even the moose and giant slugs populating the forest!  My team fondly nicknamed me ‘Nanny Hanny’ after the copious cups of tea I enjoyed as well as my early-to-bed habits.  I am confident the nickname does not reflect me driving.
 
Interestingly, the word Empower actually has two meanings: To give (someone) the authority or power to do something; and, to make (someone) stronger and more confident, especially in controlling their life and claiming their rights.  The origin of the word is slightly more complicated, with the ‘em’ thought to actually come from either the Old Frech or Latin word “en”, meaning “in”, “to look” or to “come”.  This suggests a word derived from the Old French or Latin meanings of looking or coming for power.  Today we see a hugely prolific use of the word, from personal development to business.  It feels like everyone wants us to be empowered!  So, how does this occur and who has the permission to influence me finding this inner power?
 
I believe we give ourselves permission to be empowered by someone when we gain a sense of their authenticity and self-connectedness.  If I think back to those who have touched my life in ways that enabled me to achieve beyond what I had dared to dream alone.  Max Cherry jumps to mind.  At 80 years of age, bumbled under an old track suit and a tartan beret, it was his bellowing voice from his car whilst we ran alongside, his handshake at the start of training, his gentle hug when we ‘did good’, that taught me there is no such word as can’t and to see my talents in distance running.  Jackie Feathweather nee Gallagher also helped to highlight the importance of vulnerability.  One hell of a listener, she allowed openness, demanded honesty and coached me to strength as a marathon runner.  Jeremy, with his bike shoes under the table, empowers me to seek authenticity in my own marrow.  So many amazing individuals, all with authenticity visible bubbling from even the smallest of handshakes, nods or eye contact.
 
In Finland, the natural environment inspired me outdoors.  Mornings in the sunshine, forest scarps stuck to my hair, mud spatters up my calves, this is where I connect strongest with myself.  This is where I find inspiration and self-connectedness.  And I took this empowered-self to the competition arenas where I truly believe I passed the empowerment through to these young athletes.  I saw them begin to dream bigger and perform wilder, seeing physical, mental and emotional strength unite to create optimal performance. 
 
As I boarded the first or many flights home I began conceptualizing an article on the beauty of empowerment.  And yet here I am now, face up on an airport lounge questioning my ragged attempts to do so.  I feel as stale and unexcited as the airport terminal itself.  So, I do what I know best – rip open my bag, scrounge for my slightly stale smelling running attire, draw tight the laces of my shoes and go exploring.
 
To my great surprise Melbourne Airport has the most fabulous trail running on its doorsteps.  Out past the smokers’ precinct, round behind McDonalds, down around the runway lighting, across a ditch and ‘pop’, into an open parkland I find myself.  As the noise of the airport begins to fade and the evening light dapples through the open eucalypt forest with dancing grasslands beneath, I begin to shake my head.  How can I possibly conceptualize empowerment from a stuffy, crowded airport lounge where alcohol and donuts are readily consumed?  I run with my thoughts through an old gate, parallel with a fence line with more holes than wire and upwards towards open skies.  Where does empowerment bubble up from? The realization comes to me as I summit a small hill and confront a 360-degree view of Melbourne and its outlying suburbs.
 
The process of empowering others is a reflection of our ability to empower ourselves.  I choose the word process carefully because I believe that empowerment requires a slow building of trust, not just with the other person, but with yourself.  Out on this hilltop with aircraft skimming overhead and rusty rays streaking across a darkening sky I feel inner strength and confidence returning.  I am breaking the norm, escaping the concrete and in turn empowering myself.  A quick decision to do something that makes me feel good about myself has switched me from moping mess to excitable adventurer.  I could have had another cup of tea, or indulged in some smarties (my traveler’s Achilles heal).  I could have opened my laptop and tried to strategically think my way out of my muddle.  But this simple act of inspiration has replaced the negatives with positives, the internal critique with a gentler voice of compassion, and restlessness with excitement.  I feel like racing back to the airport to grab my husband Graham and drag him out here with me to experience this too.  And therein lies empowerment.  Au natural, bubbling up deep from within.
 
I guess the moral of this muddled story is that we cannot empower others unless we first empower ourselves.  This empowerment comes from taking daily actions, (as well as perhaps the occasional big F$%k-Off adventure!) that inspires you.   Recently, I have tried to focus on the small things that uplift me, from a plant-based diet to early nights, time camping under the stars, and my mini-morning missions before opening my laptop.  I also find creativity, fostering rich friendships, and self-nurturing also stimulate richer thoughts of authenticity.  With guidance, I have spent time thinking more consciously about my values and reflecting on these in my journaling.  I have also launched my Find Your Feet Podcast because I love the act of learning from others and the act of freely sharing this with our broader community.  All these little things add up!
 
When I first started Find Your Feet back in 2009 I was simply trying to find my own feet.  I had fallen out of love with my running and had let my health tip into the unhealthy, ‘underweight athlete’ zone.  However, I was super eager to help other adults fall in love with the sport of running and meet new friends at the same time, using both running groups and life coaching as my means to do so.  After around six months one of my regular clients and someone that I am now proud to consider a friend pulled me aside – ‘Hanny, you have the potential to give us all a beautiful this gift.  But if all we see is someone who doesn’t nurture themselves then we will never be able to truly appreciate the gift you are trying to give us’.  After all these years I finally, truly understand his words of wisdom – empower yourself to empower others.

​Look backwards to where we have come.  We are anonymous.  No one knows our pathway more than they know our future.  A sodden trail leading upwards, substituting the sparse understory of the lower forest for a non-existent canopy.  Frozen, white fingers mimicking the silent stags guarding the history of this forest. Tarkine.  Our Tarkine. 
 
The buttons of the Buttongrass dance a silent tango, intimate and yet rarely touching.  That’s where we belong… intimately a part of Tarkine’s waltz.  Observing without touching, admiring without desiring.  Tarkine.  Our Tarkine. 
 
Opposites attract.  Light rain feeds the vegetation whilst we shrug deeper into our jackets.  Grey undergrowth to grey skies on grey alpine soils.  Red raincoats a reminder of our differences.  Tarkine.  Our Tarkine. 
 
Roads dug through deep culverts, winding us from one sensory overload to another.  A white bridge spanning a rusted river, jade moss clinging to its edges like the silvery mist clinging to the ridgelines.  Once again, we look to the white stags spreading their fingers towards an inconspicuous sky.  If we could take flight like the Currawongs we wouldn’t need the roads.  Tarkine.  Our Tarkine.
 
Her peat soils hide her wealth.  Gold, tin, iron and more.  She produces beauty so heightened we often rip off her surface to expose her emotions.  Inevitably she will bleed her pain into the surrounding waterways as slurry is dug from her heart, feeding outside investments.  Tarkine.  Our wounded Tarkine.
 
She cannot hide.  Vast Myrtles a true giveaway of her affluence.  She cannot escape.  Let her beauty not face the fate of the Thylacine and Tarkine people.  Tarkine.  Our trapped Tarkine.  
 
Flick off the leech, swat the marsh fly, wave away the mosquito and wash the mud off down spinning drains.  We barely belong here but we are Tarkine’s caretakers.  Stave off those bearing down on our Tarkine! Wave them away like an insect.  Tarkine.  Our Tarkine.
 
If we can learn to run we can learn to say no.  Say no to her helplessness. 
 
If we can learn to speak we can learn to say yes.  Say yes to her protection. 
 
Without a voice, she needs our help.  Stand up for her freedom like we avidly protect our own.
 
Tarkine.  Let her become your Tarkine.