I make a tea. I pee. I hurry, into the cellar. Suddenly; after seven days; there seems to be a new trace, of words wanting to be born. For days I have been physically bloated like a pregnant goat ready to give birth.
***
It is 9 am, February fourth 2010. The Olympic Torch Relay is passing the house I live in. From behind the window, still in my jammies, I see the Olympic Torch and its big caravan of commerce passing by. I cry. I cry and I don’t know why. Or do I?
***
“I’ve been called to kick you out!” says the man who’s been providing me with this free place to stay for a few months now. I look at him. My cheeks expose an ever increasing color of red. That’s what I do when there is a lot going on in me. ” I understand, I really do” I reply. A few more words are exchanged with him having the last word. ” Let’s have a chat in a few more days, to see ‘where’ you’re at” he says. He knows I have no money, no place to go and fully live according to my heart. My ‘challenge’ isn’t his. This is mine to deal with.
***
Today, February 7 2 pm. I go out for a hike. I walk past the river and notice how low its water level is. The smell of dead salmon is overwhelmingly gross. I ignore it because I love this route. I love to be surrounded by the trees. I love hearing the sound of the river flowing by. I love seeing the bald eagles, geese and all other wild life while amongst the trees. I love the magnificent views of the mountains I’m surrounded by.
Unexpectedly I pass a horse riding arena in the middle of nature. Three obstacles are set up in the middle of it. I seat myself on the small wet wooden stands next to the arena. I’m tired. My lower back hurts. I’m empty.
“Should I call my parents to pay for a ticket to have me come back to Holland?” Thinking those words literally hurt around my heart area. It seems all the roads are closing in on me. “Have I run out of luck? Is this it? Has the pool of miracles dried up? Should I give up?” I bet my family would not pay for a ticket anyway. I can hear them think:”You’ve placed yourself in this situation, now you get yourself out of it too!” T doesn’t feel ‘right’ to call ‘em anyway.
Holland is where I grew up, but Canada is where I belong. Never have I felt it as strong, as today. Going back, even doing so in my mind, feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest.
My hands are holding my head while my elbows press into the skin just above my knees while I sit on that wet wooden bench. To avoid getting wet and cold I sit on my mint green cotton mittens. I stare at the mountains. I look at the obstacles in the horse riding arena. God I miss my horse. I miss her so much right now. She was such a good listener.
The pleasant silence is interrupted by a helicopter flying over heading north towards Whistler.
***
Five days until the Olympics officially start. This morning I watched a documentary of Holland’s best speedskater, Sven Kramer. The best part of the doc was near the end. The interviewer asks him where does he ‘get ‘it’ from’? Instinctively Sven touches his heart and says:” The heart, it’s in the heart.” I smile. My heart skips a beat. Sven might not consciously know that gesture held more truth than all the words you and I can say.
***
I’m excited for the Olympics. I really am. Did I really just utter those words? I guess I did…
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[...] Three days until the Games start… February 9th, 2010 | Category: The Great Adventure [...]
Awesome
OMG! your rhyme-free!!! so good to hear your full voice : ))