Meditation in the park

 

  Right now we are sitting in Flevopark by a pond under a weeping willow tree.  The weather is sunny and the sea breeze is making it a bit chilly.  A few moments ago, a dog approached us with curiosity, which forced its owners, two school-aged girls, to approach us; we quickly realized that neither of us spoke one another’s language. Instead of using generic scripts, we laughed and smiled authentically for a long, few moments, and I genuinely felt connected in that moment. It’s funny how language can sometimes become a barrier to connection.  When taking out polite conversations and gestures, a person is forced to simply remain in the presence of another human being; it makes you feel embraced.  For the first time in my life, I think I may understand the true meaning of Namaste.

With this revelation, I catch myself entertained by the simpler things in life. Early in the morning, Matthew and I decided to not eat our last baguette, so that we could feed them to the ducks. It sounds ridiculous, but we spent a good part of an hour laughing over their silly behaviors and personalities. 

 

Today we left Ad Baker, our second couch surfer host, and said our goodbyes.  It is so inspiring to drop into someone’s natural environment and discover their way of life. It’s a fleeting friendship, but the whole process is so romantic and rewarding.  Because you know the end is near, the friendship allows you to really open up about the intimate aspects of yourself that you would never dare to share with people you’ve known for a lifetime.  Within just a few days, I have cruised the Dutch country side, drank glasses of wine with locals, and spent sun up to sun down surrounded by nature; naturally, it’s easy to fall back in love with life. As daunting as it feels, there is something incredibly liberating about walking out the door with a backpack strapped to your back, having no place to go, having nothing in particular to do, and to look around.  I feel free. No longer do I have the nagging feeling to accomplish tedious tasks or produce a bunch of stuff.  I’m finally letting my life be my art, and it feels so invigorating. Yesterday evening, I had a prolific moment after witnessing the quaint lifestyles of the Dutch fisherman and I picked up my journal and simply wrote to myself: “I got tired of sitting around waiting to die, so I decided to stand up and live!”

A flow has come over me; I think it’s a flow only freedom can provide… and it has swooped up Matthew, too.  He can’t sleep at night, so he gets up and writes.  He is amazing: he is a philosopher, a deep thinker, an artist.  He says I am his muse.  I trust him to take care of me for the rest of my life.  I know I am going to fill his days with love and laughter and excitement.  I am queen, and he is king… nothing else means anything.  He wants me to grow my hair long and blonde… I really fancy that idea.  Guys and girls in the Netherlands have such inspiring hair. It’s long and flowy and everyone embraces their natural texture; it makes me realize that I, too, desire to have hair.  I want to be pretty more than I want to be handsome. 

People here are happy.  It makes me feel at peace.  I feel open to say anything in the world, and the locals actually converse about things, instead of tightly remaining on the surface with their conversations and small talk. 

It’s funny how different I feel after only a week.  It will be interesting to see the person I am when I return home… I appreciate home now so much, and by home, I mean where I am from and the life I know… but I am beginning to find comfort in freedom.  I didn’t really understand freedom until I experienced it.  I think everyone should do this at least once in their lifetime... just pack a bag, buy a plane ticket, and GO!  There is nothing to be afraid of.  You must live.  I see how short life is now, and how much beauty there is in the world.  I want to cry often, because the world is so beautiful and I feel so much GRATITUDE!  Bliss is seeping out of me like never before. 

There is something so nice about living out of a backpack, even as glamorous and high maintenance as I believe myself to be.  Don’t get me wrong, I still shower once a day (hopefully that will continue), and I still use my jojoba face oils and my cocoa butter body lotions… but there is something nice about having everything you need fit inside of a bag that straps on your back.  And the weight reminds you of how your possessions can weigh you down, how they can crush you, and how they can make you drag your feet.  A reminder of how little you must contain if you want to feel free.

I feel a gypsy spirit seed growing inside of me, and I hope I can water it and nurture it and make it grow and bloom… but I must make sure it is strong enough to live on past this experience, to remember that we are all free beings roaming this earth, and we are not meant to be contained to a small plot of land. This whole globe is for our eyes and hearts to experience and cherish together.  And I wish upon you to let that seep into your soil and nourish your seeds.  May your heart be filled with bliss, and may you never feel constrained by your own barriers.  Take it from me, the chains slip off easy, and freedom feels so good that you’ll never go back.

MUAH, NAMASTE. I LOVE YOU AND BLESS YOU WITH GREAT DAYS AND GREAT NEW JOURNEYS.