The page is no longer there, pen and pencils are no longer there, though you know you will have them sometimes in front of your mind, and no other choices than having again that forgotten conversation like a painful repeated conversation… Evolved conversations then?
A frozen path along the jetty, a blanket of ice over the stairs, and the water at 5˚C, nearly better in the water than outside, the rush of cold water grounding the mind to a set of roots, long roots stretching to heart, stinging hands and feet, and life.
Another Thursday evening and I am heading to the lake. Last week it was -1˚C air temperature, and 6˚C water temperature, my body about 37˚C, hum… It’s not about the cold, it’s all about the breathing, about the listening of the rhythm of the heart and somewhere it’s all about connecting with my own heart, its own strength. Slowing down movement to strengthen it? Slowing down movement to give it some spring, like the horse collecting before a jump?
Either happiness or sadness, challenges are all in the emotions; emotions which wrapped you intensely in a mad embrace crushing your heart out. One crashes your heart under the ground behind anger, fear, destruction; the other one crashes it under your own weight behind love, impatience, generosity; and all that often in silence… a silence surfing the flow of emotions, a river with strong currents taking you off balance, ungrounded… until… you fall in the river, about 8 degrees temperature, and reconnect quickly with the ground with a simply exercise of cold water swimming. Gosh… nothing like a freezing swim to wake you up to reality.