October 2, 2017
A deafening silence takes us by surprise when we send our mobile brigade on holiday for two weeks. No calls, apps, e-mails or social media. Off. Not immediately do we hear that silence. The first two days we look like junkies who just arrived in rehab. Shaky hands that uncomfortably grope deep in our trouser pockets. Hungry eyes that are hunting for more input. Stimulus. Fortunately, the reward follows quickly. Being closed off from the virtual world makes us experience life more deeply.
In first gear
As soon as Jeroen leaves, there is resistance to go ‘in the air’ again. ‘Do you dare to remain silent now that you are alone?’; is the question that challenging provokes me and which I take on without hesitation. In slow motion I drive back into the National Park Hardangervidda. This time in the direction of Eidfjord. From the campsite this is exactly 120 kilometres. It takes me six days to get there. I switched my life completely back in first gear. The colossal, colourful mountain plateaus imbued with cold-blooded waters and their reflections continue to enchant me deeply. The photos I make, swaying and wandering, show me that it is time for’ reflection’.
To achieve a lot stay as you are, my mother lovingly writes to me under one of my facebook posts. But who is’ you’ ? Am I those clouds of memories that I have colored with limiting stories about myself and others. I did believe that for a long time, which has limited me in living my life to the fullest. Now I can experience regularly that I am not the clouds, but the blue sky. Light, airy and free. And the imposing clouds, in forms such as anger, frustration, fear or sorrow, carry a wonderful message about letting go of illusions.
Radiant blue sky
Hour by hour I now let the literal and figurative clouds float along. I look, like the radiant blue sky, at their messages. Fears, from small to large, become palpable in my body. Around my diaphragm. The place where I couldn’t find any space while doing yoga all those years. Luckily I continued to investigate. Little fears in the first couple of nights bivouac alone in the middle-of-nowhere. How many tiny sounds the dark silence then manages to produce. Great fears of daring to show all sides of my medal. The creative, the sweet, the dominant, the caring, the happy, the angry and the rebellious. Now that I experience having emotions instead of being them I can smile at them and let them move through me without fear. Never before have I been so happy with ‘me’. Now. Here. Al alone. And I realise how important this is. Because I am the only who lives with me 24 hours a day.
A joyful squirrel
After six days of hopping around, I enter the cute Eidfjord like a joyful squirrel. A white-beaming trendy coffeeplace immediately becomes my new home. I sing and jump through the streets and over the tiny squares while it rains. Without a jacket. A cruise ship spits out some 1.000 shipwrecks on the quayside. They look at me with amazement or even disapproval for the first second. After that I see the corners of their mouths curl up ending in a smile. Floyd and I seem like a hired act. Only our red plastic noses are missing. Chinese, Japanese, Americans. All shorts of tiny meaningful conversations. Views into other cultures while Floyd is being cuddled. We give and receive pure pleasure.
The approaching winter
Meanwhile, I see nature discolouring from the green-yellow summer to a rust-red autumn. The farmers put the sheep, which have been fattened around the whole summer, back into the meadow. The days shorten half an hour every day. The Norwegians prepare for the winter. For the first snow that may fall in October. It feels like the perfect moment to say goodbye to the mountains. With a shrinking heart I leave with direction Oslo. To visit a new friend with whom I clicked instantly on one of our hikes. I move on to the fifth gear while the dutch singer Ramses Shaffey sings:”What you’re looking for, no other person can give you! Please dare to live!