November 29. Life goes on and that is good. Time plays a role in things unfolding and settling itself, in finding a place for everything. And still there are those days that there is the importance to sit still and become quiet. Today is one of those days. Two years ago I had the accident that forever changed my life.
Last week I started writing things down. Suddenly I felt the need to put things on paper. I forgot to safe the file. So here I am. I made myself a coffee and I am enjoying a piece of the banana bread I made yesterday. I am listening to the mantra’s of Guru Ram Das from Mirabai, a healing mantra that is so soft and soothing. Thankful for music like this, to help me moving through it.
I was sending a message to a friend and colleague from work this morning, about the fact that this feels a bit like a heavy day. I don’t want to feel pity for myself. And still, it feels like a heavy day. Letting go is not always easy. He reminded me to think of all the things I reached these past 2 years. Also because of the accident. That he was sure I am a better human being than 2 years ago. I was so happy with those words. I could open myself and just let the sadness flow. I also felt good that I had the courage to express myself. I sometimes mention the accident but don’t talk about it a lot, also because I don’t really know what to say about it.
It is true, despite the shock, the trauma, the darkness, the disbelief, it did bring a lot as well. It showed me so many things. But what? I can see it and in the same time, I am still trying to figure out what it is? There is more than what I can see at this moment. Is it because I am still holding on to the pain? There were so many things happening in the same time. So much confusion and transformation already happening in that phase of my life. So much unsureness and vulnerability. I was wondering…..was the accident showing me that life is vulnerable? I already knew that.
It was the opposite. It was all about how it is to be alive. What it means to be alive and the importance to live life fully. To make it my own, to find my own voice. And that is where I am at the moment. There is a lock on my throat sometimes. I can feel the pain there in certain moments. Is this why I feel the need to write things down? To express myself. To bring it out…. Especially during meditation it can be so painful, as if my throat it squeezed, my breath is taken away. It always takes courage and work to go through it. The emotions and tears that come with it. Every time, it is the place where I knock into vulnerability. Into something hiding itself. I just trust that one day it will come. I keep on learning to go out of my head and go back to the breath. To bring me back to my body, my intuition. To trust on my own voice, to be able to communicate when I need to.
What does it mean to me alive? And what does it require? Life can be a nice and smooth flow until you find out that it is asking something else from you. I was in dreaming wonderland for so many years. Not that it was always easy. But I was going in a flow, a flow that brought me lots of beautiful experiences, studies, travels, people, work, a family. And then there was this change, the need to go beyond the naive perspective. To really step into the world, to root myself in stead of just floating around. But how to do that. There is the growing, the encouragement, the transformation. It feels like it is about all these things coming together, integrating into a new equilibrium, creating firmer roots. New life. And from there into new growth, a continuum.
Around the period of the accident I was struggling with this. Life in the Philippines was also asking for a change. It was not giving me enough roots. It was great, the tropical life, the new horizons, all the travelling and the wonderful people we met. A beautiful flow. Though I was longing to go back to the Netherlands, to go with my bare feet into the mud. To root down. I knew it was not going to be easy. But it was what was needed. Not only for me. Also for us as a family.
In a couple of weeks it is two years as well, that we are back in Amsterdam. It was a good decision. I can still miss the warmth and tropical life. But slowly slowly, I am rooting down. It all takes time.
Kintsugi, the old Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. It shows that fractures and breaks can make things even more beautiful, revitalizing it with new life. So beautiful and encouraging to look at life in this way. I have a kit to glue with gold and I am going to find a bowl so I can glue that today. Give it a golden line. The art of embracing damage. To celebrate life and to heal the scars.
ps: La vita e bella. Heart warming post delivery from the Philippines. A beautiful painting on a piece of wood made by my friend Anna. Travelled over the world to find a new home here. Feeling blessed