Monday, August 12, 2013

For the sake of chronology

Another attempt at telling the story in chronological order.. The last post I wrote about my trip was this one, about when I was staying with Thomas in his bus, in the mountains, France, just near the border with Spain. Actually, near Olot, where I have stayed before in 2011. My very first trip alone.

So, back to the bus, back to up there in the mountains, because it wasn't just warm water and a beautiful landscape. Thomas was much to himself, being used to traveling alone. I didn't mind, I did not need to talk to him much or try to get to know him, because I felt I already did. Instead, I had the space to get to know more about myself.
We stayed at this place for some days, the hot springs in the mountains. It is a pure and nourishing place in nature, but also raw. In the past Thomas had stayed here on his own for a long time, with just a tent, some food, blankets and towels. It was an important and confronting time for him. This place did the same for me, probably less intense, because I stayed a shorter while, but still intense. The beautiful outside, the springs, the mountains, the plains with little yellow flowers, make you turn inside. The steaming streams of water help you flow there.
Crying is a gift, my yoga teacher said.. (thank you, Marjet!) It is something breaking free inside of you. Something old you held onto and that you can finally let go of and let dissolve. I received this gift plentiful, here in the mountains. I cried my eyes out and soothed myself with the view, the fresh air (even with a bit of frost in it) and the comfort of the hot water.
After a few days something special happened. I felt like a switch had turned back on inside of me. I could feel I was even more sensitive than I already was. I felt the emotions of the trees and plants around me and feel them communicating. Some were kind and calm, some were old and wise, some young and playful. There had been a mad man, cutting live trees around him (probably to use for firewood). On the trees that were cut I could feel despair and sadness. I could understand his insanity.
You might think I am going crazy here myself, but I started to talk to them, the animals and the trees, and they replied. Not with words but with feelings and with the strong sensation of knowing.
It is like regaining your eyesight after forgetting you could ever see.

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