Confessions of a libra

22.06.25

[ This post contains mentions of historical violence including The Stolen Generation, proceed with caution ]

I’ve been healing my knee post-surgery at a heritage-listed Italianate (Victorian) mansion in Richmond. Being the old soul I am, I don’t just visit this place to heal. I feel that I commune with it. I am healed and I heal in return. Part of that co-mingled healing cocktail comes my attention to detail. I want to express to you how this house and land feels to my psychically. In doing so, I thought we could explore its history, which involves a little research. Bear with me, it’ll all come together by the end.

This home was built by William Harper, a single merchant who ran his own manufacturing firm. This house is the last remaining relic in Richmond specifically from 19th century Australia. Being able to witness the house and how its bones have remained sturdy throughout the passage of time, it’s awe-inspiring how tragically beautiful it is. A Physio student told me that William Harper lived in this mansion alone with his servants, no family. According to records though, the mansion was sold by his grandson William’s namesake. Which means family must have occurred at some stage. Whether he lived as a bachelor or in a home with bustling familial conviviality, I feel the vision behind the home with the pretty stained glass windows and decorative architraves. This is the home of someone with an eye for beauty and the means for opulence.

Stained glass from Elim | Credit: Here

The house is said to have been called either ‘Yooralbyn’ or ‘Kooralbyn’ when William lived in it. The latter is an Aboriginal name meaning ‘The Place of the Copperhead Snake’. It carries delicious weight, but personally I’ve felt strange about Indigeneity being used as a prop. It’s important to note that in the year 1889, Aboriginal people still were not counted as a part of the census and were being recognised as part of the flora and fauna of this country.

It brings shivers down my spine, how easily some have enacted dehumanising whole groups of people based on race. Aboriginal people were being killed in unofficial frontier wars. And this is a year before the Stolen Generations policy would be enacted (not that the separation of families wasn’t already happening, don’t get that mistaken). While I can remove myself from these facts to notice the warmth in the room with the fireplace where I do my hamstring curls, history gets lost when we try to preserve the facts that make us feel good and worthy.

The Salvation Army Girls Home | Credit: Here

Kooralbyn was purchased by The Salvation Army in 1919 and renamed Elim. The name change is significant because Elim in the bible was described as an oasis within a harsh environment. Other interpretations say Elim means “strong ones” or “strong trees”. I believe the bones of this house have been witness to everything from trauma to recovery since William Harper. Once it changed hands it became Elim Maternity Hospital, a place to house young and unmarried pregnant women. As we have often did back then, these women weren’t assisted so they could begin their new lives as mothers on strong foundation. Instead, they were punished and forced into slave labour until they gave birth.

The abuse was so bad, one woman Mrs Burke who attended the hospital when she was 17, stated she was repeatedly called a ‘slut’ and ‘easy’. She was so dehumanised that they referred to her as a digit, being one of 3 people with her first name. Once it came time for her to give birth, her legs were placed into stirrups, she was give two Disprin and gave birth on her own. The nurse only came in time to catch the baby before they fell from the bed. Mrs Burke was threatened, that if she did not give her child up for adoption, she would be placed into foster care. Mrs Burke and other women from this era who were also forced into giving up their children,  have been informed in the aftermath – that there are no records of which families their children could have been adopted into. They just have to live with that now. Sounds incredibly brutal. You can read up more on these women here.

So often in history (and in my family) I have heard horrific stories of abuse toward women who become pregnant at an inconvenient time for the family. It’s unthinkable that while a woman’s system is being flushed with hormones from the incubation, someone would use this weakened state to teach a violent lesson. How merciless and utterly grotesque is that behaviour?! In the 1970’s this same place operated as an emergency refuge for women and children. I shudder to think what the walls saw then too.

Now, I will be honest and say when I started writing this piece I was not expecting such a violent, sad and past. I wanted to document this mansion I lovingly call a ‘manor’, in the way it has received me presently. I still will, but you should know by now that I am committed to truth. The tribes that were slaughtered for that land to be available for purchase, need to be acknowledged. William needs to be acknowledged, for creating a thing of beauty in an otherwise working class area (during his time). The women and children who suffered abuse in the name of piety must be remembered. And the walls themselves that see all. That live and breathe as we do.

From my last visit

Elim house now operates as Epworth Rehabilitation Centre, and let me tell you – the rehabilitation has been multidimensional. As a Psychic and a Healer, I can tell you that land no longer holds the imprint of the violence is has suffered. As a patient, those walls embrace me every time I walk in. The professionals and patients alike have an easy-going amiability. The way the light streams in through the stained glass windows, is a religious experience in itself. I sense William’s pride in the detailing. I envision how he must’ve sat near the hearth, ringing a bell to his servants.

The pool is a newer addition on the grounds but even, in its waters I sense the healing. The intentionality of humans using this space as a place of recovery and care, has spiritually balanced The Ledger. Energetically the land feels light but with depth. Like someone who has been through dark nights of the soul but has finally alchemised those experiences. A little like…me. Sometimes, I struggle to go but it’s never because of the house. It’s because of my own energy and capacity. It’s no mistake that I see so many souls light up when I attend. Those Physiotherapists genuinely enjoy their jobs. They embody healing that way. It makes it a pleasure to be on the receiving end of the kind of care that Western society could use more of. If we decentralised profit and recentred care. Human to human care, kindness and community.

This house has well and truly lived up to it’s current name Elim by being an oasis after darkness. Which is just as well, because words are spells. That’s why in most Africans know what their names mean. A name is destiny. I hope in my words you see that by being still and more attentive, you can connect to the world around you in a visceral way. I understand now that my experiences are considered heightened. However, I know you can train yourself. You can become more intuitive. You can become more psychic (also neuroplasticity, duh). There are books and YouTube videos on the topic. You too, can experience the height of sensual awareness. I know as well, many people love learning history. So, I hope I have scratched that itch as well. May you find yourself increasingly present, in the moment. Ameen.