O
n wobbly legs I walk onto dry land.
The wind whines in my ears and the waves thunder through my body.
The salt glitters on my arm when the sun hits it.
The hotel lobby sways and I need to hold on to the reception desk to maintain my balance.
Nora laughs and says it takes a while before one’s balance has adjusted itself from having been on a rocking base a long time.
The elevator walls seem to be coming closer. I exhale when the doors open with a ding.
“Are you alright, Val? Unbelievably, you haven’t been seasick on this entire voyage, but now you look like you’ll throw up at any second.”
She lays her hand on my brow.
“It’s alright, I just need to lie down and sleep a while. But I’ll see you this evening in the restaurant.”
My voice is weak, nearly whispering.
She nods and kisses my cheek.
I open the door with a shaking hand, smile and wave at Nora standing in the hotel corridor.
She nods again and goes into her room.
I have just enough time to close the door behind me when all turns black and I fall.
The room sways. The ceiling and the white walls creep closer.
The wall-to-wall carpeting billows up to a roaring sea.
It swallows me whole for a time.
I awake drenched in sweat and try to remember where and who I am.
My body does not want to get up. It feels heavier than lead. I close my eyes again in an attempt to find something within which could explain why I’m lying here and where I am.
I try to call for help but no sound issues from my mouth.
Saltwater runs from my nose when I crawl towards a door I assume is the bathroom.
I vomit repeatedly. In the end, only bile is left. I throw up that too.
My body is shaking when I turn on the shower.
The water beats me down to the shower floor. I lie there, legs curled up and let it run over me. It feels soft and warm. The cold saltwater I mainly washed with these past weeks runs off my skin and my hair.
I rub my eyes and glance again at the blue tile, at the wall which becomes huge waves that grow closer and raise themselves above me. I close my eyes and wait for the wave to crash down upon me. I throw myself headlong to the floor in the cockpit, turn my body inside out in an attempt to heal and turn my soul inside out to find home.
My body cramps and tears sob out in nearly spastic weeping. I try to brace myself on the shower hose so as not to be washed overboard.
A telephone rings. Sobbing turns suddenly to laughing. A bottomless laugh. Love seems to be its wellspring.
Some emptiness remains once my body has gone through what it needed.
An emptiness so full of life and love.
So full of joy and gratitude.
The ground still sways a bit but my steps are now light and steady.
The soft evening breeze brings the scent of grilled fish and some spicy incense.
A mosquito bites my skin.
My feet feel trapped in open sandals after having been naked a month.
Between flaming torches, I spy my friend’s blue-white striped sweater at the bar.
“Wow! I hardly recognise you in that dress, showered and even your hair combed!”
She touches my hair and takes my hand.
I try to discreetly wipe away the saltwater running from my nose. It usually does that when she is within my energy field.
She asks me what I’ve been doing all day.
I reply that I don’t really know but I suppose that life has seen to what it needed to be done.
She nods understandingly, rolls up her stripy sleeves and shows what looks like a painted heart under plastic wrap.
“Did you get a tattoo?”
I wave away a mosquito buzzing around my face and involuntarily attract the bartender’s attention. Oranges in a basket behind him get my attention so I order fresh pressed orange juice.
“Yeah, I visited a friend today who has a small tattoo shop here. She did this anchor that is anchored in the heart. This voyage is worth immortalising.”
Nora proudly shows her tattooed upper arm again.
Quiet voices and the discrete clinking of glasses and flatware are drowned out by two loud, familiar voices.
“I presume this is our company for the evening.”
I nod toward Bo and Janek walking into the restaurant.
Nora chats with a waiter who nods and shows us to the table she’s reserved.
China crashes and someone swears as we pass the kitchen. We walk up one flight of stairs and through a passage of reeds to arrive at our table.
Up here we can see the widespread ocean once more. As so many times before, tears fill my eyes over its divine beauty.
Up here the wind blows away the smell of grilled food, tobacco smoke and perfume. It blows away all those layers that have been added and that we believe we need.
Endless space filled with glimmering lights. Light that appears and disappears.
Human fireworks explode for a few seconds in space, disappear quickly, leave only a trace of smoke and very little trash to take care of.
I listen to the waves’ murmuring in my ears. To the bottle being opened by the waiter. To the bubbles crackling in my glass. To Nora’s voice telling about a big hotel complex that will be built on this beach and about a new airport being built right now on the neighbouring island. I close my eyes and pray a silent prayer for humankind. The majority seems to still barely care that human ego is destroying our planet. A deadly pandemic is probably what it takes to frighten us enough to start acting globally. To realise that we are a united race who share this planet together. We are all one.
Under the table my feet free themselves of the sandals.
The soles of my feet rest on little, round, cool stones. The rustling of the waves washes softly up on the beach below. A wave of thankfulness wafts through me. Thanks that wisdom’s courage planted its seed inside this form.
Incipient clinking sounds of a piano soon become a melody with singing down in the courtyard.
Someone is singing a love song. A story that starts where my story approaches its ending.
Strictly a brief excerpt from someone’s life; of forty days and nights.
Simply a small sigh, a gust of wind from life that blows to where no-one dares to go.
A place within that washes away you and your story when the tide rises and the moment has come.
A place where your inner voice is your only comfort.
This endless, bottomless ocean with but a measly little anchor for reliance.
Beautiful, ruthless life – thank you that my anchor is deeply rooted in your heart.
Deeply rooted in trust.
I say thank you, quit and leave my story to its fate.
For what is written is already written and life always has the last word.
Thank you.