This morning I took a walk. My mind always takes the lead the first couple of minutes, maybe even fifteen minutes to repeat my worries, my complaints about life and I feel sorry for myself. I just keep walking and walking and I trust the process. I have seen it happen so often, because the best part of the walk begins when the thoughts leave me. I then enter a space that supports me and nurtures me. More original and loving thoughts arrive and that is why I love to walk. To enter in this other space where I can hear the other side of myself.
The nagging thoughts were still with me when I passed a ship that looked like a castle. On top of the ship was a little tarp and underneath the tarp I saw a horse checking me out. I had to look twice to believe what my eyes were telling. It looked so silly to see that horse over there. What would a horse do on a ship? It definitely helped me to leave my nasty thoughts behind.
The sun is shining and I decide to lie down and enjoy a quiet moment in the grass. I think back about the post I wrote yesterday. That I fear to show the mountain part of myself. That maybe it is time to except the part of me that is seen as a mountain by others, where I try and keep it a valley. I know it has to do with making myself smaller than I am. To be not willing to stand out and write about what I feel like writing on the web log. I am so critical on myself, it kills it all off. The sun moves behind the clouds, I get cold and continue walking.
The side of the canal is the next part of my walk. I see a man with a long black beard and a pony tail. A man that people hardly ever walk towards, they would rather avoid him at all costs. You get the picture. His dog comes running towards me with her old tennis ball. She is not ready to give it to me to play and instead the owner, let me call him Ray, begins talking. His eyes are bright, he smells of tea and he has a beautiful smile. He is in his forties and he is all dressed in black.
He tells me about his work with the dog. For 14 years he and his dog have been spending every moment of the day together. He has seen her more than his own wife he admits. Before long I know that he is a police officer working under cover at airports to detect narcotics. Last night he checked on a big shipment of Japanese tea. Which explains why he smells of tea.
We talk about the first impression of people and how that can mislead you. Then much to my surprise Ray talks about the mountain and the valley. I get to ask him questions and he is like a teacher. He knows that people avoid him like hell because of his looks and there is nothing that he can do about it. Ray has come to terms with it, accepted it and taken on his role to be the mountain. He cannot pretend to be the valley since people never accept him as being the valley.
I got what he said loud and clear. I cannot hide the mountain aspect of myself. It is visible to others, even if I try to be the valley. Being the mountain is being myself, to become indifferent as to how others receive me. That I stop following the drums of others, that I listen to my own drummer. That I dare to be different and stand out. I have my role to play in this life and well, is it time to take that role, accept it and be like Ray with his dog or the horse on the ship.