It’s all difficult through the chaos in my head. The chaos which is real and the calm the same. I had asked for the purpose and got shown the way. The cogwheels greasy and full of dust and dirt by following the wind. With no house to settle and no route to follow a loving heart chooses to help the most troubled. Inhabiting lifestyles breaking free of my teachings in comfort and security. The disposition convicting myself of imprisonment.

I’m at the airport waiting for a flight, this plane caries my future, my longing, my dreams. A tropical storm is raging outside making it impossible for the plane to land. I get taken from the main hall with a feeling I’ve done something wrong. Standing downstairs at the conveyor belt with those plastic transparant, rectangle shaped cuts, the thing that separates the inside and outside but still for a parcel to move through. I stand there and want to flee, it feels like detention. A security officer makes sure I cannot leave the room. It’s grey and dark until I look again.

It is me at the conveyor belt with white wings folded behind my back. I see the security guard smiling and know we are the same. A part of me in my self-made prison where I’m in. The grey dark colors and I’m no longer in the room. I’m in a meadow full of flowers in such a tremendous variety on the green. I look up where the sky has cleared and I can see the airplane.

I’ve been searching for the security I need outside myself. In a job in money the things which I had disposed myself off. The job like a prison guarded not able to leave, I could no longer see the joy. I got frustrated afraid of the detention, afraid of the security guard. The job as a limited freedom, I was not able to think straight anymore inside my head was a swarm of flies constantly buzzing. Days where slow and difficult I only wanted to sleep. Weeks, Months have passed with the buzzing swelling more and more, the rejections on applications I couldn’t do it anymore. Until finally I was able to reach the off button and all became silent.

Time to process information and changing the thoughts. The ease returns I’m in the ashes of what has been transformed. My roots visible and the route dug out. Let the wind push me forward, let water flow and I will follow. At ease I reach out, prayers are answered.

Monday morning 9 O’Clock I’m back at the conveyor belt dancing with the guard.

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