Text: Ellen Wild
A few lost autumn leaves break under my feet, disturbing the silent hills around. The oxygen in the air is promising deep winter breathing. Despite storm, wind and waves crashing, nature is silent. All effort in outwards appearance discarded. Energy retreated within its shell. Fully trusting the safety of the embodiment.
From the waves at fjord's feet, I look up at the already white tips of brother mountain. Half an hour out here and I'm a different person. Mind vibrating on the rhythm of nature.
An invitation to join all what’s around me, on the journey in the darkness, wintering within myself. Letting my outward directed energy become silent. Society won't let me. It keeps pricking tiny holes to suck out the inward energy flow, stirring in the wrong direction.
The 24hour cycle of society clashing with the long cycles of the earth. And we still think that there is something wrong with us when we can't keep up. How can we honour our make? I don't have the answers either. Standing on the threshold of yet another dark hour, as if we haven’t been here before. For the first time, I feel acceptance. This year, it will not be me, embarking on another great journey, walking round and round on within the cycle of the earth. Instead, I sit down, letting our Great Mother carry me. A rollercoaster, light and dark and in and out, wind in my hair.
I give up, I don’t care. My own attitude is giving me mad giggles. Strange looks from strange faces. Faces that turn familiar as we pass by. Who am I kidding, there are no strangers when you live in the middle of nowhere.
Mud is turning paved again under my feet. Christmas lights brightening our little harbour town, mid-November. The cold and salty air is keeping me company a little bit longer. Across the waves, on the other side of the fjord, mountains are standing strong.
The picture is idyllic. Backlit by orange and pink, the first white glittering gold. Lights on the water, more and more fishing boats docking in. Seabirds accompanying. Above me the first stars appear. It keeps surprising, how many stars you see here in the North. That alone could be a reason why I won’t move back to mainland Europe.
But nobody around is seeing it, even in this little place, the hustle doesn’t seem to stop. I’m not alone, feeling the season press on me. Wanting to slow down. But there’s things to do, places to be. Schools to be attended, sick to be cared for, houses to be build, bread to be baked, reports to be written.
The 24hour wheel of society is not stopping any time soon. But can we take it up- and downhill? And you know what, the cards are dealt. We are living here and now. Let’s take our responsibility, society IS us. There’s freedom and opportunity in acceptance. How will you play the game?