Be the body and stay

Then another story begins, I had signed myself up for a vipassana. A meditation in a group not to speak a word for 10 days. The retreat being just an hour out of Auckland I started the drive from Turangi. In the middle lane on the Auckland city highway entering the hive, my motion suddenly came to a stop. Blue smoke circling out of the engine block told me the machine had given up. What surprised me was how little help was offered by ongoing traffic, mostly angry faces and occasionally I received the finger. Listening to the radio still playing a reporter mentioned the traffic jam I had caused. All I could do is laugh, what happened, happened it’s not going to change.

A race against time started because I was dedicated to go to the course. I called AA to make us of my “free”tow to bring me to a storage unit. The friendly people at vipassana informed me a taxi would be leaving in two hours from the city center. The towing company was quite busy that day and did not arrive before a friendly police officer did. I told him what had happened and he put his bumper against mine pushing me to the nearest exit. I thanked him for his help and being such a friendly man, cops in New Zealand never disappointed me the law is in good hands.

I ended up on a parking next to a company that sold spa’s and swimming pools. An employee had interest and came to ask. I told him my story to continue in dutch. He had been living in Aotearoa for the past 16 years. A nice chat and a cup of tea for the tow-truck to arrive to bring my steel horse to the morgue. Again waiting not defeated by today’s events, the taxi came. I arrived in the nick of time, 10 minutes to talk about my endeavour then silence.

10 days of muteness, feel the body, be the body and stay. Hush the chattering of the mind, reserve the divine.

A valuable lesson for the self, 10 days over I had forgiven my worries. Returning to reduce my life from van to backpack. A friend in meditation provided storage for what I could not carry. Stepping on the plane to transport me south.

The end of the nameless horse

Continue reading

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to Top