For two years I have been “stuck” in one place. Arriving on our mountain I felt such a sense of relief I just stopped moving. Even going down the valley to get food would be something I would postpone as much as I could. I loved living away from the world. I loved my time outside of all that we think of as real. When I had to go back to Amsterdam for work, I would walk around the village and the woods for days to say goodbye to the rocks, the trees, the river, the people, the views, the eagles, the donkeys and the chicken. I would fill the pockets of my coat with pebbles to remind me of my secret place. That’s how it feels. I found this secret, sacred place and nothing will tear us apart. Going into the city would feel like jumping into a fierce ocean and I would plunge and cover my nose only to breath again when I would have my mountain in sight.

When we left for Amsterdam I collected as many pebbles and rocks as I could. I hid them in the car (T said I could take FIVE). I gave them to people who would drive to Holland. I filled our shoes with them. I even posted a box. Now our house and garden in Amsterdam are filled with hundreds of stones of all different sizes and colors. And you know what? It works. All these little creatures, pieces of mountain, remind me of that little place that is mine. Not only mine, the place where I belong. They radiate the energy I feel there. I’ve spread my wings on that mountain. But I know that even if I return as often as I can, I have other places to spread my wings now. I have been traveling a lot these last weeks. Paris, NYC, countryside, again Paris. And everywhere I go I have my pockets filled with stones. Security guards look at me with raised eyebrows. I don’t know what I am doing, but I know it is important. I found my sacred place, but so many others still feel lost. And now I know, you can have the world if you know where you belong and you remind yourself of it again and again. Even if you need to take a hundred pebbles with you on your travels.


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