Doubt
“Am I supposed to wander around here in the forest? Am I allowed to be here? Can I actually spend the next four hours here?” All these question came into my mind during my walk in the forest.
At one point, I was very ready to go back to the warmth of the fire in the house because my body was freezing.
I had set the intention to better understand how I relate to everything, who I really am, and what that means for me.
But I was especially struggling with a certain sense of loneliness. If this was true, if I was the source of all creation, the consciousness illumining all beings and all things, didn't that mean I was terribly lonely?
I was wondering how we were able to readily give and receive love to and from others, but were mostly unable to give the same love to ourselves.
I tried, but it didn't come easy. At one point, I felt like hugging myself and I could immediately feel myself straightening up, becoming a more tight and energetic bundle.
I was also trying to imagine your presence, and I actually managed. It made the loneliness a lot more bearable. I didn't feel alone anymore. And I could go wherever I wanted, to whatever place called me. I actually enjoyed being alone.
I remembered how only a week ago I had been looking forward to being alone. I had liked the idea of you going to Lofoten and meeting someone else who would share the time with you. It would leave me with the freedom to do whatever I wanted. The problem was that I had disowned this drive. I hadn't admitted to it so I ended up thinking that you didn't want to be with me. Eventually I even ended up thinking that he didn't want you to be with me.
But initially it had been me who wanted this. And here I was. Happy about it.
My body was warm and I enjoyed the movement of it. I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. I was allowed to be here. I could sense how the doubt vanished.
I didn't know where I wanted to go. I only wanted to avoid disturbing anyone. So whenever I saw traces of human settlement, I turned away and found a different path. Many of the paths I walked on were very likely not made by humans but rather by animals. I could sense their perfection; they were easy to walk except sometimes when I had to duck to move past branches, climb to move up a rock or jump to move down an edge.
One time I had the option to either climb down or jump down. I wasn't sure. So I crouched on the dirt-covered, wet edge of the rock to get lower to the ground. I felt how my feet were slipping slowly and I knew I had to jump if I didn't want to get my pants dirty. So once I almost lost grip, I jumped. It went well. (During the whole trip, even though it was close sometimes, I didn't get my pants dirty.)
At one point I was standing on the shore, but something called me to climb up on the rocks, where I could lean onto its cold and wet face while looking out at the sea. To my surprise, leaning my cheek against it was the moment when I most deeply felt your presence. I could feel the love.
It sounds weird, but I really enjoyed its presence. I enjoyed its hard support on the side of my head, its mossy, earthy, mineral smell. I softly leaned my nose against a patch without any moss on it and gently rubbed my nose against it. It was incredible how familiar this feeling was. I loved the light scratching sensation.