It is said that Uluru calls you. Some believe it is the spirit of the land, whispering across vast distances, awakening a yearning to visit its sacred heart. For me, that call came when I was six years old, nestled on a cozy couch in Germany, flipping through the pages of my favourite storybook.

The book was about six little animals embarking on grand adventures around the world, discovering new lands, and making friends in places beyond their and my wildest imaginations. Of all the tales, one story captured my heart—the one about a faraway country filled with strange and fascinating animals I had never heard of, endless sunshine, and red sand stretching as far as the eye could see.

It wasn’t just the animals that fascinated me or the unfamiliar brightness of the sun—it was the red sand, the vivid, rocky landscapes that seemed alive with mystery and magic. In my young mind, it felt like this place was calling me, reaching out to me through the pages of my book. I decided, right then and there, that I would one day find and visit this land with its fiery earth and endless sky.

At the time, I didn’t know this place had a name. I didn’t know it was called Australia, let alone that its heart held a sacred place called Uluru. All I knew was that something about it had captured my imagination—and my heart. Looking back now, I realize that was the first time I received ‘the call,’ an unexplainable pull from across the world, all the way from Australia to a little girl in Germany.

What I didn’t know then was how deeply that call would shape me.

When I was 26 years old, fresh out of university and eager to embrace the world, I embarked on what I thought would be a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. A close friend and I packed our backpacks and set off to explore the far reaches of Australia—a journey meant to mark the beginning of a new chapter in life.

Our travels took us to many extraordinary places, but none were as profound as the sacred lands of Uluru and Kata Tjuta. The moment I stepped onto that fiery red earth, I felt something deep and mysterious within me awaken. It wasn’t just the majesty of the landscapes, though they were breathtaking—it was the overwhelming sense of connection, as if I had finally arrived in a place that had been calling me for a very long time.

Sitting in the shadow of Uluru, watching the sun paint the rock with beautiful colours, I felt a clarity I’d never known before. This wasn’t just a journey; it was a turning point. In that sacred space, surrounded by ancient stories embedded in the land, I made two life-changing decisions.

The first was to embrace the idea of motherhood, to open myself to the beauty of bringing new life into the world. The second was a promise to myself: my future child would be born in this sunny country that had captivated me since I was a child, so this ‘sun’ can be deeply anchored in her heart.

And so, I rewrote my plans. Instead of chasing the grand ambitions I had laid out for myself, I began preparing for a different kind of adventure—one rooted in family, connection, and a new life in Australia.

Today, as I look back on that journey, I see how it shaped the life I now live. From the red sands of Uluru to the beaches and bushlands of this incredible country, Australia isn’t just where I chose to live; it’s where I truly found myself.

And I still have that book from my childhood, the one that sparked it all. Its pages are worn and dated now, but none more so than the one about Australia.

After decades of living in Australia, zigzagging through its vast landscapes and soaking at its beauty, I found myself called back to Uluru once again. This time, the call wasn’t mysterious or unexpected. I knew exactly what it meant.

It felt like the land itself was inviting me to pause, to reconnect, and to prepare for another shift in my life. So, I returned to the heart of the country, to Uluru, ready to listen and receive its sacred energy and profound message.

Standing there once more, I felt the same awe as I did all those years ago. But this time, I wasn’t just a traveller, this time I remembered what this call meant.

And this is where my story, for now, finishes. As for the next turning point that Uluru has set in motion, only time will tell. Perhaps, like that little girl with her storybook, I will have to wait and see where the call leads me next.