Tas Grace Sanctuary

08/11/2025

An inspirational read on Life choices.....

🙏Health and wellbeing..
Our chosen path to serve humanity from our Wellbeing Hub NUBEENA.. 💕

Sessions 0412190909
10, 1215, 230pm
Mini 1 hr $50
Basic 2hrs $95
Intensive 10hrs.. $260

Lifetime membership
$80 FIRST 2HRS FREE.

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

*******************
John Deacon—Queen's bassist, the quiet one, the youngest member—simply walked away from public life at age 46 and never came back.
He's still out there. Still alive. Living in the same South London house. Raising his six kids. Playing golf.
Just finished with all of it.

John Deacon was 19—a serious, introverted electronics student at Chelsea College in London. He played bass in amateur bands but was more focused on finishing his degree than chasing rock stardom.

Then he auditioned for Queen.
Freddie Mercury, Brian May, and Roger Taylor had been searching for a bassist for months. They'd tried several people. No one fit.
Then John showed up. Quiet. Reserved. Technically excellent. He played one song and barely spoke.
Freddie, Brian, and Roger looked at each other. This was their guy.
Not because he had the biggest personality—quite the opposite. John was calm, grounded, practical. He balanced three massive egos. He was the stabilizer in a group of volatile creative geniuses.
John joined Queen in 1971. But here's what's remarkable: he insisted on finishing his university degree first before fully committing. While Queen was playing bigger shows and recording their first album, John was still attending classes and taking exams.
He graduated with First Class Honours in Electronics in 1971. Only then did he fully commit to Queen.
That tells you everything about John Deacon. Pragmatic. Thoughtful. Not swept away by rock and roll fantasy.
Over the next twenty years, John became essential to Queen's sound. Not in flashy, obvious ways—he wasn't Freddie commanding stages or Brian creating guitar symphonies. John was the foundation. The groove. The pocket that held everything together.
But here's what casual fans don't know: John Deacon wrote some of Queen's biggest hits.
"Another One Bites the Dust" (1980)—Queen's best-selling single ever, over 7 million copies. Number one in the U.S. That funky bass line that defined the song? That was John. He wrote it.
"I Want to Break Free" (1984)—another massive hit. John wrote it.
"You're My Best Friend" (1975)—John wrote it, inspired by his wife Veronica.
"Spread Your Wings" (1977)—John's composition.
He wasn't prolific like Freddie or Brian, but when John wrote a song, it was often a hit.
And he did it all while being the quietest person in every room.
While Freddie partied and lived extravagantly, John went home to his wife and kids. While Roger and Brian engaged with press and media, John gave minimal interviews and said as little as possible.
He married Veronica Tetzlaff in 1975—before Queen became massive—and stayed married. No rock star divorces. No scandals. No tabloid drama.
They bought a house in Putney, South London, and had six children. John lived there throughout Queen's entire peak—through stadium tours, worldwide fame, millions in royalties.
He just... didn't participate in the lifestyle. He was a rock star who lived like a suburban accountant.
Brian May once said: "John was always the sensible one. While we were being rock stars, John was worried about mortgages and school fees."
Roger Taylor called him "quiet but lethal" musically—you wouldn't notice John during interviews, but in the studio, his contributions were devastating.
Freddie Mercury relied on John's stability. They had a special relationship—Freddie, the ultimate extrovert, and John, the ultimate introvert, somehow understanding each other perfectly.
Then, November 24, 1991. Freddie Mercury died.
John Deacon's world ended that day.
The remaining members tried to continue. They held the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert in April 1992—a massive event at Wembley Stadium celebrating Freddie's life.
John participated. He played. But he was clearly broken.
After that, Queen attempted some projects. They released Made in Heaven in 1995 using Freddie's final vocal recordings. John played on it, reluctantly.
In 1997, Queen did a few one-off performances. John participated minimally.
And then he just stopped.
His statement was simple and devastating: "As far as we are concerned, this is it. There is no point carrying on. It is impossible to replace Freddie."
Brian and Roger wanted to continue in some form. They eventually toured with Paul Rodgers, then Adam Lambert, under the "Queen +" banner.
John wanted no part of it. He said no. And walked away.
That was 1997. He was 46 years old. Still young. Still healthy. Still financially secure from Queen's massive royalty streams.
And he just... disappeared.
No farewell tour. No final interview. No dramatic announcement. He simply stopped being a public figure.
People thought it was temporary. That he'd come back eventually. Do a reunion. Accept an award. Something.
But years passed. A decade. Two decades. Nearly three decades.
Nothing. Complete silence.
John Deacon hasn't given a public interview since 1997. He hasn't appeared on stage. He attended Queen's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in 2001 but didn't speak. He skipped most public events after that entirely.
When Queen + Adam Lambert toured to massive success, John declined all involvement. He's still entitled to his share of royalties and revenues, but he wants nothing to do with performances or publicity.
Brian May has said: "We stay in touch. He's fine. He's happy. He just doesn't want any part of this anymore. And we respect that."
Roger Taylor has been more blunt: "John wants to be left alone. He's not coming back. Ever."
So where is John Deacon now?
Still in Putney, South London. Same house he bought in the 1970s. Now in his 70s. Married to the same woman for nearly 50 years. Six adult children, grandchildren.
He plays golf. He manages his personal finances (apparently quite well—his electronics degree paid off). He lives a completely ordinary suburban life.
Occasionally, very rarely, a photo surfaces. Someone spots him at a grocery store or golf course. But he doesn't engage. Doesn't do autographs or photos. Just politely declines and walks away.
He's worth an estimated $200 million from Queen royalties. "Bohemian Rhapsody" alone generates millions annually. He could live anywhere, do anything.
He chooses to live quietly in the same neighborhood where he raised his kids.
This is what makes John Deacon fascinating: he achieved everything a musician could dream of. Worldwide fame. Historic success. Financial security for life. He wrote songs billions of people have heard.
And then he just... stopped. And never looked back.
No memoir. No documentary. No "Behind the Music" special. No reunion tour for one last payday.
Just silence. For 27 years and counting.
In an industry built on ego, attention, and never knowing when to quit—John Deacon quit at the exact right moment. When it stopped being meaningful to him.
He kept his promise to Freddie: "You can't replace Freddie." So he didn't try.
While Brian and Roger continue touring with Adam Lambert—which is fine, their choice—John remains firm. For him, Queen died with Freddie.
There's something almost monastic about it. A complete renunciation of fame. He could be on stages earning millions. He could be celebrated and interviewed and honored.
Instead, he's playing golf in South London. And apparently, that's exactly where he wants to be.
The last public quote attributed to John Deacon, from around 1997: "I have no wish to be on a stage again. My life is about my family now."
And he meant it. For 27 years, through temptation and offers and pressure, he's never wavered.
John Deacon: Born 1951. Joined Queen at 19. Wrote some of their biggest hits. Played on every Queen album from 1971-1995.
Then Freddie died. John said "It's over."
And disappeared.
Still alive. Still out there. Just done.
That's not retirement. That's something rarer: complete contentment with silence.
In a world that demands everyone seek attention, John Deacon chose invisibility.
And found peace.

Tas Grace Sanctuary - A 24-Unit Energy Enhancement System. Phone 0412 19 0909. A safe & nurturing environment to relax, recharge & rejuvenate

08/11/2025

An inspirational read on Life choices.....

🙏Health and wellbeing..
Our chosen path to serve humanity.. 💕

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

John Deacon—Queen's bassist, the quiet one, the youngest member—simply walked away from public life at age 46 and never came back.
He's still out there. Still alive. Living in the same South London house. Raising his six kids. Playing golf.
Just finished with all of it.

John Deacon was 19—a serious, introverted electronics student at Chelsea College in London. He played bass in amateur bands but was more focused on finishing his degree than chasing rock stardom.

Then he auditioned for Queen.
Freddie Mercury, Brian May, and Roger Taylor had been searching for a bassist for months. They'd tried several people. No one fit.
Then John showed up. Quiet. Reserved. Technically excellent. He played one song and barely spoke.
Freddie, Brian, and Roger looked at each other. This was their guy.
Not because he had the biggest personality—quite the opposite. John was calm, grounded, practical. He balanced three massive egos. He was the stabilizer in a group of volatile creative geniuses.
John joined Queen in 1971. But here's what's remarkable: he insisted on finishing his university degree first before fully committing. While Queen was playing bigger shows and recording their first album, John was still attending classes and taking exams.
He graduated with First Class Honours in Electronics in 1971. Only then did he fully commit to Queen.
That tells you everything about John Deacon. Pragmatic. Thoughtful. Not swept away by rock and roll fantasy.
Over the next twenty years, John became essential to Queen's sound. Not in flashy, obvious ways—he wasn't Freddie commanding stages or Brian creating guitar symphonies. John was the foundation. The groove. The pocket that held everything together.
But here's what casual fans don't know: John Deacon wrote some of Queen's biggest hits.
"Another One Bites the Dust" (1980)—Queen's best-selling single ever, over 7 million copies. Number one in the U.S. That funky bass line that defined the song? That was John. He wrote it.
"I Want to Break Free" (1984)—another massive hit. John wrote it.
"You're My Best Friend" (1975)—John wrote it, inspired by his wife Veronica.
"Spread Your Wings" (1977)—John's composition.
He wasn't prolific like Freddie or Brian, but when John wrote a song, it was often a hit.
And he did it all while being the quietest person in every room.
While Freddie partied and lived extravagantly, John went home to his wife and kids. While Roger and Brian engaged with press and media, John gave minimal interviews and said as little as possible.
He married Veronica Tetzlaff in 1975—before Queen became massive—and stayed married. No rock star divorces. No scandals. No tabloid drama.
They bought a house in Putney, South London, and had six children. John lived there throughout Queen's entire peak—through stadium tours, worldwide fame, millions in royalties.
He just... didn't participate in the lifestyle. He was a rock star who lived like a suburban accountant.
Brian May once said: "John was always the sensible one. While we were being rock stars, John was worried about mortgages and school fees."
Roger Taylor called him "quiet but lethal" musically—you wouldn't notice John during interviews, but in the studio, his contributions were devastating.
Freddie Mercury relied on John's stability. They had a special relationship—Freddie, the ultimate extrovert, and John, the ultimate introvert, somehow understanding each other perfectly.
Then, November 24, 1991. Freddie Mercury died.
John Deacon's world ended that day.
The remaining members tried to continue. They held the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert in April 1992—a massive event at Wembley Stadium celebrating Freddie's life.
John participated. He played. But he was clearly broken.
After that, Queen attempted some projects. They released Made in Heaven in 1995 using Freddie's final vocal recordings. John played on it, reluctantly.
In 1997, Queen did a few one-off performances. John participated minimally.
And then he just stopped.
His statement was simple and devastating: "As far as we are concerned, this is it. There is no point carrying on. It is impossible to replace Freddie."
Brian and Roger wanted to continue in some form. They eventually toured with Paul Rodgers, then Adam Lambert, under the "Queen +" banner.
John wanted no part of it. He said no. And walked away.
That was 1997. He was 46 years old. Still young. Still healthy. Still financially secure from Queen's massive royalty streams.
And he just... disappeared.
No farewell tour. No final interview. No dramatic announcement. He simply stopped being a public figure.
People thought it was temporary. That he'd come back eventually. Do a reunion. Accept an award. Something.
But years passed. A decade. Two decades. Nearly three decades.
Nothing. Complete silence.
John Deacon hasn't given a public interview since 1997. He hasn't appeared on stage. He attended Queen's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in 2001 but didn't speak. He skipped most public events after that entirely.
When Queen + Adam Lambert toured to massive success, John declined all involvement. He's still entitled to his share of royalties and revenues, but he wants nothing to do with performances or publicity.
Brian May has said: "We stay in touch. He's fine. He's happy. He just doesn't want any part of this anymore. And we respect that."
Roger Taylor has been more blunt: "John wants to be left alone. He's not coming back. Ever."
So where is John Deacon now?
Still in Putney, South London. Same house he bought in the 1970s. Now in his 70s. Married to the same woman for nearly 50 years. Six adult children, grandchildren.
He plays golf. He manages his personal finances (apparently quite well—his electronics degree paid off). He lives a completely ordinary suburban life.
Occasionally, very rarely, a photo surfaces. Someone spots him at a grocery store or golf course. But he doesn't engage. Doesn't do autographs or photos. Just politely declines and walks away.
He's worth an estimated $200 million from Queen royalties. "Bohemian Rhapsody" alone generates millions annually. He could live anywhere, do anything.
He chooses to live quietly in the same neighborhood where he raised his kids.
This is what makes John Deacon fascinating: he achieved everything a musician could dream of. Worldwide fame. Historic success. Financial security for life. He wrote songs billions of people have heard.
And then he just... stopped. And never looked back.
No memoir. No documentary. No "Behind the Music" special. No reunion tour for one last payday.
Just silence. For 27 years and counting.
In an industry built on ego, attention, and never knowing when to quit—John Deacon quit at the exact right moment. When it stopped being meaningful to him.
He kept his promise to Freddie: "You can't replace Freddie." So he didn't try.
While Brian and Roger continue touring with Adam Lambert—which is fine, their choice—John remains firm. For him, Queen died with Freddie.
There's something almost monastic about it. A complete renunciation of fame. He could be on stages earning millions. He could be celebrated and interviewed and honored.
Instead, he's playing golf in South London. And apparently, that's exactly where he wants to be.
The last public quote attributed to John Deacon, from around 1997: "I have no wish to be on a stage again. My life is about my family now."
And he meant it. For 27 years, through temptation and offers and pressure, he's never wavered.
John Deacon: Born 1951. Joined Queen at 19. Wrote some of their biggest hits. Played on every Queen album from 1971-1995.
Then Freddie died. John said "It's over."
And disappeared.
Still alive. Still out there. Just done.
That's not retirement. That's something rarer: complete contentment with silence.
In a world that demands everyone seek attention, John Deacon chose invisibility.
And found peace.

27/10/2025

You cannot fix what you refuse to see... a profound statement.

We invite you to look at your wellbeing...
Are you stressed?
Are you exhausted?
Are you overwhelmed?
Are you depressed?

We invite you to reach in, and begin fixing
One breadth at a time..
Reconnect with the most powerful restorer of inner ease...
heart and breadth

If you need some support call us for a chat.. 0412190909

Come for a session in our Wellbeing Lounge.
Try our frequency based leading edge healing devices.
Scalar, sound, light, colour, pulse electromagnetic, infrared, phobiomodulation.

There will be one that suits you while you relax, recharge and reconnect with your Heart and Breadth.

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

*********
AN INSPIRING SHARE💕
“He’s fourteen, Maria,” the guidance counselor said, her voice dripping with that syrupy, professional concern that always set my teeth on edge. “He shouldn’t be worrying about the utility bills. He should be…” she gestured vaguely, “…just being a kid.”

I get that look a lot. I’m a night-shift RN at the county hospital, and I see it from the other moms in the school pickup line—the ones with perfect nails and husbands who golf on Saturdays.

They see my son, Leo, running our debit card for the week’s groceries, his brows furrowed as he meticulously checks the receipt. They hear from their kids that Leo’s the one who mended the chain on his own bike and cooks dinner three nights a week while I’m catching a few hours of sleep before a 12-hour shift.

Their judgment is quiet, but it’s loud. Lazy mom. Poor kid. Forced to grow up too fast.

They don’t see what I see.

They don’t see the fierce, quiet pride in his eyes when he balances my battered checkbook (yes, I still use one) and finds a $5 discrepancy in our favor. They don't smell the garlic and tomatoes from the pasta sauce he’s simmering—a recipe he found himself on some free cooking website. They don't see him patiently explaining to me why one cell phone plan is a rip-off compared to another, using terms like "data caps" and "deprioritization" with startling accuracy.

They see a burden; I see a partner.

When his father decided his future was sunnier in California—a future that didn't include us—I stood in our tiny apartment kitchen, looked at my nine-year-old son, and made a silent promise.

I would not raise a fragile boy.

I was raised fragile. My parents worked themselves to the bone at the local textile mill, and they shielded me from every harsh reality. They thought that was love. I didn't know how to pay a bill until I was 21. The first time my car broke down on the highway, I just sat on the curb and cried, waiting for someone to save me. Life punched me in the mouth, and I didn't even know how to make a fist.

My son would know. He would know how to punch back.

Last month, the high school hosted a "Civics Night." It was… tense. The topic for the open forum was: "Is the American Dream still achievable for the working class?"

The air in the high school auditorium was thick. This isn't an abstract question in our town, not since the big auto-parts plant on the edge of town laid off its third shift. Parents shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic seats. A few kids from the debate team got up, read nervously from notecards about "systemic issues" and "economic headwinds"—words they’d clearly learned in class.

Then Leo stood up. He wasn't on the program, but he raised his hand during the open Q&A.

My heart did a painful kick-flip. He wasn't holding a notecard.

His voice was clear and didn't waver. "I hear everyone talking about a 'Dream'," he said, his voice cutting through the polite murmurs. "But my mom and I... we're just focused on the 'achievable' part."

The whole room went dead silent. A few people turned in their seats to look at him.

"My mom's a nurse," he continued, gesturing toward me. I wanted to sink through the floor, but I also felt a strange, hot balloon of pride expanding in my chest. "She saves people. She works all night, and she comes home, and she still has to worry if the new tires for our car mean we can't afford the dentist that month. I... I help. I do the budget. I know what a carton of eggs costs now versus what it cost last year. That's not a burden. It’s just... the math."

He looked right at the panel of local leaders on the stage. "And knowing the math means I can help fix the problem, instead of just being scared of it. Maybe the 'Dream' isn't about getting a mansion or a fancy car. Maybe it's just about knowing you have the skills to survive. Maybe it’s about helping the people you love do it with you. That feels pretty achievable to me."

A teacher in the front row, Ms. Gable, slowly took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. The dad next to me, a big guy in a worn-out construction company jacket, just nodded, slow and deep. My own eyes were burning so bad I could barely see.

Leo didn't just speak for himself. He spoke for all the kids who’ve watched their parents whisper over bills at the kitchen table, for every family trying to make it work in a world that feels like it's squeezing you from all sides. He said, in his own way, "We see the truth. And we are not as fragile as you think."

Driving home in our 10-year-old sedan, the silence was comfortable. He just stared out the window at the passing streetlights.

"That was pretty scary," he finally said, a small grin playing on his face.

"You were amazing, Leo," I whispered, my voice thick.

"Well," he said, shrugging, as if it were obvious. "It's just like you always say. You can't fix what you're afraid to look at."

He gets it. He understands why I let him struggle with the incomprehensible instructions for the new standing fan, why I make him be the one to call the internet company when the Wi-Fi goes down.

It's not because I can't do it. It's because I know, with a certainty that chills my bones, that one day I won't be there to do it for him.

So yes, call me the lazy mom.
I’m the one who doesn't swoop in to rescue him from a burnt dinner or a tough conversation.
I’m the one who stands back, my hands clenched at my sides, forcing myself not to intervene when he’s wrestling with a stripped screw on the vacuum cleaner.
I’m the one who lets her 14-year-old son see the bills, see the struggle, and see the strength it takes to face it all, day after day.

Because "lazy" is just another word for "trust."
"Lazy" means raising a young man who won't be crippled by an unexpected bill or a car that won't start.

"Lazy" means building a citizen who understands that community isn't just a word, it's an action—it's cooking the meal, fixing the bike, and speaking the truth, even when your voice shakes.

This country is loud. It's divided. It's hard. It doesn't need another generation of people waiting for a hero to save them. It needs people who know how to be the hero in their own kitchen, in their own lives, in their own town.

Call me what you want. I'll wear it like a badge of honor.
Because the greatest gift I can give my son—and this country—isn't comfort.
It’s courage.

Tas Grace Sanctuary - A 24-Unit Energy Enhancement System. Phone 0412 19 0909. A safe & nurturing environment to relax, recharge & rejuvenate

17/10/2025

You only need eyes that care.... a profound tip We have a community Gifting day at our energy enhancement light system Lounge. Last Saturday 25th October If you feel tired, anxious or vague...out of sorts Welcome to come, sit on our comfy recliners Relax Recharge and Rebalance. 1hr sessions 10-3pm To book please call 0412190909

04/10/2025

Awareness on plastics for health.

02/10/2025

Where is the comparison and care beyond the rules created by those who have everything in their own lives..

01/10/2025

Some simple health tips Have a great day...

26/09/2025

A reminder
Saturday 27th Sept.
Our TGS complimentary community Gifting day.
1hr sessions

10am till 2pm
Starts on the hour

If you are feeling exhausted, out of sorts, anxious, depressed.

An invitation to come and relax on our comfy recliners, recharge, rebalance, and enhance your wellbeing
In our eesystem lounge.

Tas Grace Sanctuary
Tasman eco village
1583 Nubeena rd
Nubeena 7184

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

🙏🦋🌻

Tas Grace Sanctuary - A 24-Unit Energy Enhancement System. Phone 0412 19 0909. A safe & nurturing environment to relax, recharge & rejuvenate

21/09/2025

A Japanese creative solution in our modern world.
Have a lovely week ahead.🦋🌻

If ever you feel alone, overwhelmed or exhausted.
An invitation to come over for a cup of tea/chat or a session in our Eesytem lounge. Relax, recharge and enhance your wellbeing.

Tas Grace Sanctuary.
Tasman ecovillage.
Nubeena 7184.

Call : 0412190909

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

***** A share*****
In Japan, a unique industry has emerged where small agencies allow people to hire actors to play the roles of family members, friends, or partners. These services cater to individuals facing loneliness, grief, or social expectations they cannot meet. For example, a widow might hire someone to play her late husband for an event, or parents might rent a “stand-in father” to attend school functions, maintaining a sense of normalcy for their children.

This phenomenon highlights Japan’s ongoing struggle with isolation and social conformity. Many people face intense pressure to present a perfect family image or avoid stigma, and these agencies offer a way to cope. Beyond emotional support, they help fulfill cultural obligations, such as appearing with a spouse at weddings or reunions. While some criticize it as artificial, others see it as a compassionate service that brings comfort and preserves dignity in a society that values appearances.

Tas Grace Sanctuary - A 24-Unit Energy Enhancement System. Phone 0412 19 0909. A safe & nurturing environment to relax, recharge & rejuvenate

19/09/2025

If unsure, take a health tip from Charlie Brown n Snoopy

Enjoy your weekend
💕

You also come and recharge in our Wellbeing Hub
Tasman ecovillage
Nubeena

For sessions times
Call 0412190909

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

17/09/2025

Step into the future of wellness NOW ...

*** frequency medicine is the medicine of the future TESLA***

Our Tas Grace Sanctuary uses light, color, and sound frequencies to harmonize your mind, body, and spirit—helping you experience more clarity, vitality, and balance in your everyday life.

Our energy enhancement system lounge has powerful frequency field designed to elevate and rebalance your frequency, and align you with your highest potential.

To book a session
Call 0412190909 or online

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

Nubeena , Tasmania

This proprietary technology, originally invented by Robert J. Religa, has been experienced by tens of thousands worldwide.

09/09/2025

Sometimes to close your eyes, connect with your heart and be still, without external distractions is a healing time.

At our
Wellbeing Hub
Tasman ecovillage
1583 Nubeena rd
NUBEENA

We offer a sacred silent space for healing on many levels.

If you feel exhausted, depressed, 'out of sorts'
we invite you to come and experience a recharge and rebalance.
Or just to enhance your wellbeing.

Frequencies of light, colour, sound and scalar waves provide a healing environment for the body to find balance.

To book a session
Call 0412190909

www.tasgracesanctuary.org

A Japanese perspective on silence in relationships. ....
🦋
I once read that in Japan, love isn’t defined by passion, grand romance, or bouquets of flowers on special days. It’s defined by respect for personal space.

In their culture, it’s not about demanding constant closeness or asking endless questions. While we often say: “If you love someone, you must always be by their side,” they believe: “If you love someone, you let them breathe.”

There is even a concept called “oyakake bukaeru” — the silence beside someone. The ability to sit together for an hour without words — not because of anger, but because you feel calm. In many cultures, silence is seen as a problem. In Japan, it’s a sign of depth.

Love there doesn’t mean “always together.” It’s normal for couples to sleep in separate rooms, take separate vacations, or pursue different interests. Independence is not betrayal. Distance is not the end. What matters most is not interfering with each other’s essence.

Happiness is not something demanded from the other person, but the peace you bring into the relationship. That’s why in Japan, divorce rates are lower, there are fewer emotional breakdowns, and less burnout.

Maybe it’s because their relationships aren’t built on consumption, but on respect. On quiet care. On giving each other the freedom to simply be. 🌿

Tas Grace Sanctuary - A 24-Unit Energy Enhancement System. Phone 0412 19 0909. A safe & nurturing environment to relax, recharge & rejuvenate