Naxos – I Ousia

“Can I be happier than this?”
A rhetorical question, that is clear from the intonation. If you had to give an answer anyway, it would be ‘no’.

“Could I be happier than this?”
I hear myself uttering that question out loud as I sit snugly in my living room in Naxos. It makes me laugh. Because if that is not the highlight of being in the moment, of gratitude, then I don’t know what is.

After all, it’s only how you look at things. I’m in Naxos for only a week and it has rained almost continuously today. Very unusual, but still. My street has turned into a river again, so walking to the beach is not really an option. If I want to go into town, it is a perilous undertaking. I best make a detour via Mikri Vigla, which will take me about half an hour. But the alternative means a big chance of drowning my motor or getting stuck in the mud. (And believe me, I’ve been there: not much fun.)
The houses here are not built for cold winters, so a cosy warmth, as we know it in Belgium, possibly literally by the gas heater, is not an option here. The restaurants are closed except for a few. More than usual, because they have to work with a covid-pass and there are quite some self-willed islanders who do not choose for that and thus severely restrict their social activities. Coffee shops are partly closed for renovation. The bakers in Mikri Vigla is open when he thinks it is and so has left me standing at the door a few times. So no Freddo Cappucino.
And I am only talking about the local situation. Not to mention the rising energy prices or let alone the war in Oerkraïne.
When I think about that, I should almost be ashamed of my feelings. Or not. I hear myself saying to a friend who was cramped with fear at the doctor’s office: ‘It is indeed a terrible situation. But when we are afraind, it doesn’t help anyone. On the contrary. If we feel love and peace in our hearts, we radiate it and the world can only benefit from that.’

But so, I am happy. I love those moments when I can feel it so intensely and especially, when I realise it. It clearly has nothing to do with the situation you’re in. (Or maybe it does, I am of course in Naxos. ;-)) It has mainly to do with an inner process. The feeling of being on the right path. Being able to make far-reaching decisions without it throwing you off balance. So no, it is not there by itself. Perhaps it is the result of years of inner work. But now I am reaping the fruits. And they are delicious fruits.

And so, at any given moment, I ask myself out loud: “Can I be happier than this?”

Manifesting… You hear a lot about it. And you can believe in it, or not. Work with it, or not. But today I manifested without consciously intending.

It was one of those days. You know: no appointments on the agenda, but a whole to-do list on the table, next to the computer. But I can’t get started. In the end, I go to the sea, because it is a nice late summer’s day. I make a tour with my board and meditate on the beach. I return home, make a salad and think: now I really have to! But it’s not going to happen. I tinker with the planning for next year, but have no inspiration nor overview.

I think: ‘Go for a walk, Suzanne, clear your head. Then it will come’. And yes, half an hour later, when I’m walking along the beach in Kastraki, ideas come to me. I suddenly know how to shape it. I see combinations…
I immediately upgrade the walk to ‘work’. Apparently, I need that for my ‘hard work-subpersonality’, because it is, after all, Monday. The fact that I also did some work on Saturday and Sunday has, of course, already been forgotten.
It is work, because I am collecting material for my clients next year. Small shells and pebbles. And heart stones too, for a new little project with Karen from Solsties.

I walk all the way to the end of the beach in Glyfada. Quite a distance, I think. But I don’t know how far it is nor how long or how many steps. Because when I arrived in Kastraki, I discovered that my Iphone is still charging at home. That is a setback. So no photos… No pedometer… No clock…
For a moment, I feel naked. Amazed by it. I remember the time when everyone I knew had a smartphone and I still consciously had an old mobile phone… I hear myself say: ‘what’s the use?!’ Look at me now. I can’t live without. It’s my alarm clock, my meditation tool, my camera, my health monitor, my contact with the outside world, my safety (when I go out on my board), my GPS, …. Well, you probably know what I mean.
But, apparently I am off without my Iphone. At first I think ‘oops, that’s a shame, I would have photographed this normally’, when I see special sand formations, or when the clouds let in special rays of light… But then I let it go. It is what it is. And I enjoy it.
I enjoy my work. The walking, the shells, the thoughts in my head. The new workshop takes shape. The first questions for the ‘follow-up’ of Divine Discovery are ready, waiting to flow from my fingers on the keyboard…

So I walk. Two km, I have found out in the meantime. And so two km back. It is on this way back that I think:
‘Oh, I haven’t found a Naxian Eye yet. There aren’t many this year. Today I would like to find one!’
Immediately another voice arises – I don’t know what to call it. One formed from humble Flemish clay, I would say. His motto: ‘Be content with what you have’.
‘You should be ashamed! So many beautiful shells you have found! Even those special ones Walter showed you, which are blue inside… Never enough…‘ I feel it immediately, it almost hurts.
Luckily my Inner Child is alert:
‘It’s not because I’ve found nice shells and pebbles that I can’t long for Naxian eyes! I am very happy with the shells, but I want Naxian eyes TOO!’
Luckily there was no one around, because I was laughing out loud. I even said out loud,
‘You’re right! You can ALSO have Naxian Eyes!’

I was still laughing inwardly when I saw them: the eyes. The shells… As if they had just been thrown on the beach. (Actually, I really believe that, that they had just been thrown on the beach, because I had not seen any when I passed there before!) If the word ‘glow’ had a counter, I would glow 1000!

‘So that’s manifesting,’ I thought. ‘Thank you!‘ And still more showed up. With each shell I found, I looked up to the sky, touched my heart and thanked the cosmos. Eight little eyes were offered. I can assure you that it gives me a special feeling.

Yes, sometimes I feel alone out here. Sometimes I despise the pandemic that makes travelling difficult and I am angry at all those (understandable) reasons that make people cancel. But on the other hand, tears of happiness run down my cheeks.

Manifesting leads to gratitude. Gratitude leads to manifesting.

And again it happens to me: I finally take a book with me to read and after – this time, only – 7 pages, I already feel like writing again (cfr. blog of 4 July). Luckily, I have my notebook with me.

That is what a good book does: it inspires.
It is not just any book. I received it as a gift from the couple who come to the couple’s retreat. The man had brought it along to read and it also inspired him. During our first session, he already quotes:

‘Aimer, ce n’est pas se regarder l’un l’autre,
c’est regarder ensemble dans la même direction.’

by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

And that he did not entirely agree with this. That, perhaps, is the pitfall in a long-term relationship. Perhaps you look too much in the same direction (to keep the business called ‘family’ going) and too little at each other. Maybe people who have been together for a long time, need to learn to look at each other again. And that is exactly why they are here: to find that connection again. Two hearts, two souls that meet and choose to go on the road together. The road becomes clearer and clearer. There is a risk of losing the ’together’ along the way.
At the end of the week, I receive the book as a gift (including sand – lovely!) with a beautiful message written in it. ‘You have shown us a new way…’ Could it be more appropriate?
And so I take the book with me when I cycle to a terrace where the cedar trees offer some protection from the heat wave that is teaching me to appreciate air conditioning.

In the same first ode there is another quotation, this time from Rodaan Al Galidi. Dutch poetry.

Tomorrow
I will go to the woman I love
And give her back her wings.

So beautiful.
And so recognisable: losing your wings in a relationship, maybe not so much because the other person short-circuits them or takes them away. But sometimes you are so blinded by the path of the other person that, without knowing it, you are walking more than you are flying. And there is nothing wrong with that either. Only, maybe you are simply a woman who is destined to fly. And if you want to be true to yourself, you should not even wait for the other person to give you your wings back, but stop to pick them up yourself.
No matter how painful it is to leave the cosy path you walked with two, once you feel the freedom of your wings again, once you float and fly, dive and soar, you realise that this is your true nature.

All good things come in threes, so let me throw in another one.

Love is the beginning and the end of everything.

I heard it yesterday in one of those romantic feel-good movies you sometimes watch during ’that period’. It touched me.
Yes, love is the beginning of everything and perhaps the end is also connected to love – self-love. A love that is treated somewhat stepmotherly. A love in which we are not standardly educated, in which we are often not stimulated but rather slowed down, in order to prevent unbridled egoism. But that too is love. Important love.

Love, a word that is often used, a word that has many layers.
Love in which we look at each other and at ourselves and move forward together.
Love in which we walk a path, but also fly high.
Love that hurts and love that heals.

Love.

I wish it for you. The love that is right.

Ouch, when I read Dirk De Wachter’s book (a famous Belgian psychiater), I immediately start to feel guilty about my happiness (I have to admit that I started writing this after only 25 pages, so maybe some of the reactions are a bit premature, but I couldn’t hold back). Not that I always feel happy. On the contrary. I just had two tearful days. South wind, my friend would say. Complicated relationships and unfulfilled expectations, is my diagnosis. So I decide to ‘get myself together’, after all I am responsible for my own happiness. That, by the way, is the reason I am sitting here on a terrace. I followed Deepak Chopra’s advice (step 5: release the emotion through physical movement (translated into jump on your bike) and step 7: do something nice for yourself (freely translated in drink a Freddo Cappucino and eat an ice cream).

When I leave, I grab the thinnest book from the pile and it turned out to be ‘The art of being unhappy’.

And I think I’m not very good at that. After an unhappy childhood and years of therapy and personal development, I have reached a state of being that I would describe as happy. Sometimes I put it this way: I used to be unhappy with happy moments, now I’m happy with unhappy moments. So I think I’m better in the art of being happy. There are a few things that help me with. Three principles, so to speak.

Everything is a matter of perspective – what do you focus on?

As an example I’ll tell you about my recent experience, when I was in Belgium… I came home after midnight and drove three rounds in the neighborhood to find a parking spot. Finally, I parked around the corner, just past a scaffold. That scaffold should have turned on a light, but my light was already out….
When I came around the corner the next morning with two heavy bags on my shoulders and a coffee mug in the hand, I found an empty parking space and a whistling workman on the scaffold. Towed away…
A passerby smugly remarked, “Yes madam, if there’s a sign, you’re not allowed to park! I immediately pleaded guilty. ‘I didn’t see it, it’s entirely my own fault.’ A neighbor explained that often towed cars can be found at spot X… It had happened to him as well. I asked for directions and told him that I would jump on my bike to go look for him, because I had to go to work. The man responded: “wait two minutes” and he hurried off, grabbed his lunch, put on his shoes and less then ten minutes later he had dropped me off at my car. I arrived at work on time.
For a whole day I floated on clouds – such luck I had!

If there is something that makes me very unhappy, I try to change it.

If you can, of course, that depends on what the issue is. But you’d be amazed at how much you can control yourself. It doesn’t always happen overnight, this change. Patience is helpful in that regard.
For example, I noticed that the overloaded agenda that I had ‘put on’ myself when I was in Belgium was exhausting and didn’t really give me any satisfaction. So I immediately took some decisions to make the next stop in Belgium a little more bearable and promised myself to reconsider my choices about work and commitments. I know it’s not something that can be changed completely tomorrow, but I think in five years time, I will get things sorted out!

Everything is relative

Just because I (and by extension everyone else) post photos of the sun, doesn’t mean she’s always shining. For every picture of a picturesque spot here, I could also post a picture of a run-down place, abandoned garbage or poorly cared for animals… But who needs that?
I have thought about it though, to make a ‘shadow-profile’ and challenge myself to post another photo every day, in addition to the beautiful/positive picture. Perhaps that is an even greater challenge: to picture them well
Sometimes I feel a bit guilty that I only show beautiful images. But I assume that people realize that this is only a part of reality (but definitely indeed a part of reality!). It is as in a movie: you only get to see a part of life. You get to see people leaving and arriving, but not the long boring way. Or you see people kissing and recovering from a steamy lovemaking session immediately afterwards, but you don’t see ‘the going upstairs and discovering that your room is more messed up than you thought’ / taking off uncomfortable clothes / the ‘I have to go to the toilet first’ or ‘ouch, you’re on my hair’… And we all know that that might be in between too.

So yes, I am happy. And probably that makes it easier for me to bear misfortune in general. Because at the end of the book (yes, I am one of those people who already reads the end, even though she’s only on page 20;-)) it says in very large letters: ‘It is the ethical duty of the happy person, who comes from a warm nest and who is liked and who is doing well, to see the inconvenience of the world and do something about it’.
So I try to send some fractions of happiness out into the world. By posting my photographs. And sometimes through a little story or a blog like this one. I hope it may contribute a millimeter to your happiness! And I won’t feel guilty, but I’d like to share!

Yesterday, during my meditation, it suddenly occurred to me: ‘That’s why Corona is here!

No, I’m not going to throw yet another conspiracy theory at you. Nor explaining theses, scientifically or otherwise, about the origin of this little organism which manages to bring the whole world out of balance.
And I want to point out, for a good understanding: I don’t really feel guilty. But I can’t ignore it: I have asked for it.

It’s been a long time now that I’ve been telling everyone, that it’s my dream to spend more time in Naxos. That I want to further develop my project here and that I want to enjoy this beautiful place.

Manifesting… I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but I’m working on it a lot at the moment. I thought, I have to take another course in it. But when I heard that our deepest desires are actually the easiest to realize, he fell – that proverbial coin.

Of course, I have, myself, taken a lot of already. I have asked and received. Just think of the flexibility of the Academy where I teach, offers me. I have dared and done. But this year the cosmos has given me a boost.

Thanks to Corona I have travelled to my island earlier this spring. The lockdown prevented me from going back in June. In September I was able to go to teach and refresh myself with my best friends. But before I had to travel again to the cold, wet Belgium they decided to close the doors again… I doubted for a moment wether I would stay or not. But am I glad I did! Because it was a gift from the cosmos!

No, it’s not all moonlight and roses. Here too, everything is closed and freedom of movement is very limited. But I have the sea and the sun. I can make nice walks and now and then I can go out on my board. I have to work online a lot but I can do it with a nice view. And it challenges me to shape the lessons in a

different way… I missed my groups this summer, but I could feel more and more at home here.
And all of a sudden I am overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s not the way I imagined it, but I did get it, that time here in my little paradise! It works!

I felt blocked to look into the next season. I couldn’t decide on schedules. Do I go for it again, now that everything is so uncertain? But suddenly a door opens… If the cosmos takes such good care of me, I just MUST trust it!

I’m going for it. The next few days I spend most of my time behind the screen, but all free moments I’m going to think, write, visualize, decide!
I’m doing it!
Next year I’m going to have at least six great groups!
Next year I’m going to work at least six weeks with individuals or couples!

That’s my new order to the cosmos. I’ll load it into my virtual shopping cart, along with some other wishes. Wishes that resonate powerfully with my core. It gives me a warm feeling.*

*I apologize in advance if you should experience any disadvantage from the interventions the cosmos will do to fulfill my dreams. That is not my intention.

I couldn’t. I just couldn’t remove the appointment in my digital diary: ’14h: pick up Carine and Jo – bring them to Medusa’. Even their flight had unintentionally gotten into my diary. She had forwarded her flight details and my Gmail does its job.
But not so.
They’re not coming.
That has been decided for a while already. And you’d think I’d gotten used to the idea.
But not so.

So far, my time here has been, sort of ‘extra time’. The first three weeks were really extra: I would actually still be in Belgium at that time. Those were real work weeks too. After, I had planned two weeks of holiday. After all, I had worked hard in Belgium. From the end of April my agenda was open for individual retreats and it was time to prepare my first groups.
The individual retreats did trigger some interest and requests for information, but in the end a pandemic put a stop to actual bookings. So until now I would have been here alone anyway. But Friday my first guests would have arrived. They sounded very pleasant on the phone. I’m sure it would have been an intense and pleasant collaboration.
But not so.

So I didn’t remove the appointment and now that it’s getting closer and closer, I notice that it hurts.
It’s not gonna happen.
My groups won’t take place.
I can’t play, lead, seduce, accompany, surprise, tell, challenge, explain, guide, feed, inspire…
That, into which I’ve been putting all my passion for several years now, wants to floath.
But not so.

And the pain isn’t about the financial impact of all the cancellations. Not nice of course, but I am among the lucky ones who are supported by the Belgian State. So I’m going to survive.
No, it’s about a much more essential thing. It’s about my full potential that I can’t use if I can’t share my passion. It’s about living my mission. After all, that’s what I’m on this island for. Because the energy here provides the perfect soil for the personal growth of the people I’m allowed to feed.

(High-minded words, finds my humble self. But I follow a Deepak Chopra meditation-challenge about Abundance. And in that energy I allow myself to write it anyway.)

There is so much potential that cannot be used now. So it’s looking for another way out. In wood and shells, in paint and canvas, in saw and sandpaper. Time to feed myself, to rest, to play and discover. And to enjoy.

I’ll do it for all of you.
For Carine and Jo, for Ann-Marie, Lesly, Isabelle, Annelies, Krista, Ann, Kristel, Mieke, Mia, Hilde…
And yes, for you, too.
Because maybe you wanted to come.
But not so.

It’s an emo-day. During a meeting I mention that the bad weather is making it hard. It’s cold, it’s raining and it’s so cloudy I can’t even see the island in front of. There is laughter. ‘Haha, and there she is, on her paradise island!’ It’s not meant to be that sharp. But it feels that sharp.
Tears come. I wasn’t expecting them.

And I try to get myself together again. Some others have it much harder than me. Although I’m the first to tell others that ‘burden’ is incomparable. But I can’t help it.
And the tears keep coming.
I bust my head over my ‘bad feeling’. What’s so bad? Maybe, secretly, I’m more scared than I think, but I’m suppressing it. And this is how that fear shows itself? Maybe it’s…

All kinds of hypotheses. Sometimes I’m so tired of being a therapist. I always have to analyze myself like this!

I’m sending a message to my soul mate. She reads between the lines. Luckily. She calls.
What’s going on?
I don’t know. I feel sad. Actually, nothing’s wrong. Actually, everything’s fine. Only the weather is bad. I can’t even walk down to the beach. But what a luxury problem, I still have a beautiful view… So I think there’s something else, something I don’t see.
And I share all my analyses, my twists and turns, my thoughts.
And she listens.
Only that…
And I ask her if she has any idea what I’m holding down so much that it shows up like this. And she says, ‘Yeah, well, it’s just not fun!’

And the tension calms. All those tears flow to the sea. All those words rolling out, create space. All the silence of listening fills me with warmth.
And all of a sudden I see everything that can help me.
When I’m IN it, I don’t see.
Even if I would make a list of it, I wouldn’t look at it at that moment.
‘No,’ she says, ‘it only helps to call a friend and moan’.

Spot on.

So yes to yoga and meditation, to stress-reducing techniques and breathing, yes to creativity and physical exercise. But especially yes to a friend to whom you can just tell your story without advice, solutions or judgments.

I hereby issue a new Corona measure: the right to moan!

(*) moaning: to make a complaint in an unhappy voice, usually about something that does not seem important to other people. – or: sharing things that bother you, while your inner critic thinks you’re exaggerating.

Day 5 of my quarantine. A day of rest, finally.

Everywhere I hear / read about ‘silencing’ and ‘repentance, ‘escape from the jigg’. So I think, “Euh?!” I’ve never been so busy here before.

Normally, when I arrive in Naxos, I arrive in a different time zone. Not only literally (we’re an hour ahead), but especially when it comes to the pace. Here it is ‘siga siga’! We take a siesta and let ourselves be guided by nature and the wind.
But now it is as if I have brought my Belgian time. In the night from Tuesday to Wednesday I got off the boat around half past one and 13 hours later I hadn’t unpacked everything yet, but I was already supervising behind my computer. And in the evening I had another meeting. And on it went the following days: online meetings, consultation, therapy, supervision, teaching …
And in between, of course, catching up with some friends and colleagues…

It seems everyone has suddenly discovered online contact. Because of my long stays here I really learned to appreciate skype or facetime. Often it is the icing on the cake of my fine life here: staying in paradise and still being able to keep in touch with a few special friends. But all of a sudden everyone seems to be into skype – or zoom, whereby, webex, whatsapp and so on…

Great, of course, but… a lot / too much.

So all my plans to slow down, do yoga, meditate with Genpo Roshi and finally watch those sessions of Tara Brach,… For now they have to wait a while.

It makes me restless and even a bit unhappy. But then I think of that African story:

“Once upon a time, there was a man who had the guts to travel to the inhospitable parts of Africa. His only companions were the porters. Each of them held a machete and fought his way through the dense vegetation. Their goal was to continue at all costs.
When facing a river, they used as little time as possible to cross it. When a hill appeared, they accelerated their steps so as not to waste a single minute. But suddenly the porters stopped. The explorer reacted in surprise. For they had only been walking for a few hours.
So he asked them, “Why are you stopping? Are you tired already? We’ve only been walking for a few hours.”
Then one of the porters looked at him and said, “No sir, we are not tired. It’s just that we moved on so quickly that we left our souls behind. Now we must wait until our souls have caught up with us again.”

Yeah, that’s it, my soul still has to catch up with me.

So I accept I’m still living on Belgian time. I’ll take time to wait for my soul. Use my quarantine for that purpose. And after, the peace and quiet can come. When I’ll be able to walk to the sea – which I can’t allow myself to do for the time being. There I will find it.

I look forward to it, to that other time zone and especially to the arrival of my soul.

I’m in quarantine, like a lot of people. Some because they’re showing “mild symptoms” and they need to take it easy. Others because they came into contact with someone. Me because I came into the country. Yeah, I’m quarantined here in Naxos. But being ‘locked-up’ with my sea view doesn’t really feel like a punishment.

But how did I get here?

I was working hard in Belgium when everything started to get out of hand. Suddenly it’s raining cancellations: training sessions are cancelled (to be honest, at first I was reacting: ‘Now, don’t exaggerate!’ – maybe I wasn’t the only one!), performances are postponed. On Friday I still teach in EA (School for Integrative Psychotherapy), on Saturday we’re not allowed to teach anymore… Right away we install an online platform and I teach in front of the camera while 18 students are projected on screen in front of me…
In the back of my mind there’s a concern: will I still be able to go home? I was supposed to leave for Naxos beginning of April and stay there quite a while. But will the still let me out and in?

Sunday: I meet my godchild for a photo shoot for his communion. We stay at a safe distance. No kisses (the children don’t mind ;-)). His dad, assumes Belgium will close down completely on Wednesday or Thursday… I get overloaded with information, statistics, … “It’s serious, Suzanne!”.
I have to act now!
A good friend, kicks my ass:
– “Why would you stay?”
– “I have clients on Wednesday. I can’t just cancel them!”
– “Yeah, but if you wait till after Wednesday, to take care of them, you may not be able to leave. And possibly by then they will cancel themselves and it turns out there was no need for you to stay…”
So after another phone call with my sister (because I wouldn’t be able to take care of our mother either) it’s decided in my head: I’m leaving as soon as I can. This is on Tuesday.
Sunday evening I re-book my flights. (Thank you Aegean Airlines for giving the opportunity to reschedule without extra costs).

Monday: I email my clients, tidy my house, bring stuff to the container park, take my car to Aarschot and say goodbye to my mom. Until late in the evening I am packing. What to take? I’m leaving for two and a half months. At least. And normally I have two groups before I come back. Do I have everything? …

Tuesday: A friend takes me to the airport. Tense. Yesterday Greece announced that everyone entering the country must be quarantined for 14 days. How’s that going to be? Can I fly to Naxos? I’ve booked a ridiculously expensive hotel for one night and a flight the next day. Maybe I will have to stay in that hotel for 14 days? I can’t afford that! What if…
The reaction of people around me are diverse. One totally understands, supports, thinks along or wants to send Reiki. The other points out the dangers. What if I get sick there? Health care is much better in Belgium. There is not even Intensive Care on the island!
I also feel different voices inside me. One full of confidence: ‘If something like this is going on, a human being just wants to go home and for you it’s Naxos!’. The other a bit scared: is this the right decision?

At the check-in desk I find a very dear hostess. She spontaneously gives me a ‘priority label’, so my suitcases will come first. Suddenly that opens possibilities. I enter a ‘creative thinking mode’. I call my taxi driver in Athens and tell him to wait for me, that I might not use his services, but that I will pay him anyway. I e-mail the hotel to check whether, given the circumstances, I can get an extension of the cancellation period. Normally I have to cancel before noon, otherwise I will lose my money. I ask if I can wait until 4pm.
Plan B (taking the boat) becomes plan A. Plan A (a flight tomorrow) becomes plan B – because today we are sure of today, not tomorrow.

During the flight nothing is reported. On arrival we have to fill in a form before we can get off. I’m rather quick to fill it out (and ‘coincidentally’ got a seat in row 6!) so I am among the first on the bus that takes us to the gate. With 20 people on it, it leaves already. I expect to have a fever check or an interview, but I can just keep going. When I arrive at the luggage belt, my suitcase already slides by. George is waiting for me. He checks while driving if everything’s okay with the ferry. I call the hotel to cancel my room. I get on the boat without any problems. Re-book my flight to just any date. I can cancel later.
I message several people that I succeeded, I find a seat far away from everyone (there are not that many people on the boat) and get installed for the next hours. We sail along Syros so it is almost one hour in the night when I get home. Tired but happy.

Wednesday: it is wonderful to wake up with a sea view. Blue sky. The wind blowing. You’d almost forget what’s going on in the world.

So yes, I’m lucky.
I hear stories which are very different.
Of people who don’t get home.
People who have to be quarantined because so many colleagues are infected.
People working overtime.
People who wanted to go to another country because their daughter is giving birth but they can’t leave.
People who work in care and are not allowed to stay at home.
People who feel lonely.
People who are completely in fear.
People who feel abandoned.
People who no longer get the care they normally need.
People who have to manage and take decisions with great impact, both humanly and economically.
People who are watching over their son, who is in bed with a fever. Is it the virus? There’s no more testing, so all you can do is wait and hope it doesn’t get worse.
People who had prepared their goodbyes with care and now can’t even get a proper funeral.
People who are suffering.
People dying.

And I’m sitting here. On my island. I’m so lucky.

So lucky I’m ashamed. Or even feel guilty. As if I could have done more if I’d stayed in Belgium. As if I’d run away from my responsibilities. I only took myself in consideration.
But then there’s that other voice: “That’s not true. You’ve thought about the impact on other people. Only you chose for yourself.
And let that be the message I want to declare. That people choose for themselves. And that means something different for everyone. (If I were a doctor or a nurse, I would make very different choices now).
And from that genuine choice for yourself, you can connect. Really connect.
And real connection is possible in different ways.
I think of sharing stories, pictures, some light energy. I’m going to meditate and send compassion. That’s not action in the front line, but I hope it can contribute to a psychological and energetic support.

Even in these times, can I just share my happiness?!

Thursday 19.03.20