Last week I left Berlin to continue my walk, passing small villages on my way to the only important destination: Peace
The very first day was special. It was late evening when I came to a small village. I asked around for shelter and was met with surprised faces who told me they could not host me for the night.
I came to a small church and met a woman who was the first person who actually listened, when I told her I was a pilgrim walking to World Peace. She almost began crying and was so touched by this. She apologized for not being able to host me but I told her happily that just meeting her here was more than enough, to meet a fellow human being who knows peace is possible.
She also apologized on behalf of the village and told me I probably will not find a shelter here, because the people are too full of fear. I had already understood this when I asked around and smiled and told her not to worry, somehow there is a kind person waiting for me somewhere.
Some inhabitants of a forest I passed
We said goodbye and I met some people who told me to try the pastor’s house in the next bigger village. When I left the small village I began crying and waves and waves of sadness came through me because of my meeting with the kindhearted spirit outside the church.
She had told me the reason she could not host me was that she slept on the floor in a small room and I was so saddened by this: that so many wonderful and kind people like her all over the world do not even have access to the most basic of human needs, a real home.
I was also grieving for all the people who I passed who live in big warm houses, but have no peace the home of their hearts. Living in such fear and anxiety that one’s inner home is in constant turmoil.
When I came to the next village I realised that there pastor’s house was closed and nobody was home. So I turned around and saw an interesting house on the opposite side.
The front of the big yellow stone building had the words “syndikat.org” written in large text. I have only vague connections to the meaning of the syndicalism movement but a good feeling told me to knock. So I did but nobody answered. Then I saw a man in one of the windows so I knocked again on the windows and he opened, surprised and curious rather than scared.
His name was Remo and he invited me to stay in the guest room of his community! What a blessing, a whole warm room of my own for the night. And in the morning his friend Stefan told me about the other Syndikat communities.
I planted a Moringa tree in the guest room
Then my route was suddenly clear and I walked to the town Bruck and the two communities there.
I walked on the Peace Street in the dark night
When I came to the Old Mill community I thought of staying one night as usual and then continue but someone told me that the coming night a band would come and play rainbow reaggea gypsy songs in a living room Consert!
Blessed with dear friends in der Alte Muhle who gave me shelter, peacefood and a rainbow sweater!
So of course I stayed another night to meet this amazing band. This turned out to be a magical moment, as I met new friends from the community ZEGG in the village of Bad Belzig. This evening I had also gotten severe throat pain and a strong fever so I felt it was best not to walk very far and the ZEGG community was just a few hours hike.
I’m a huge fan of these amazing traveling artists!
When I arrived to ZEGG I was the surprised one. As I turned around in the dining hall I met an old friend, Thomas, who I has met on a similar community called Ängsbacka in Sweden. And Thomas lived here in ZEGG since many years back. Amazing coincidences!
Thomas told me about the many beautiful projects and visions that were flowing in the sphere of ZEGG. My fever was still quite strong and my throat painful but because of the spontaneous nature of my arrival I could not stay more than a night at ZEGG. Luckily I had met a wonderful friend, Zain, from Syria, who helped me find a home by connecting me with his dear friend Philip.
All of us met here at the Info cafe, A cafe that has been promoting peace and acted as a cultural bridge for 18 years! And the past days I have finally been able to rest in the company of loving friends Ralf and Philip, so that my fever and throat May heal.
Having a fever and a flu is a bit like tasting the effects of really old age.
You loose your sense of smell and taste. You loose your energy and focus. You sleep most of the day. You sweat and freeze at the same time and suddenly even the most mundane things becomes a challenge.
And you can no longer derive happiness from helping others. You become instead utterly dependant on the help from others.
For me this is a golden opportunity
An opportunity to find happiness and peace in just being. Resting. Coughing. Without being able to make any meaningful projects, not even cooking food or cleaning.
Just being and being taken care of by friends.
Being taken care of by the Earth, the water I drink and the plants I eat and the air I breathe.
We are all coming here sooner or later. To this stage of life when our senses fade away, our thoughts turn blurry and our hands tremble.
The question is: what do you make of it?
When look close enough at my own mind, and my own breath, so close I can’t even use my eyes to see. I learn that there is a way to see with the eyes of my heart. This seeing never turns blurry, it doesn’t matter if I’m falling asleep, turning old or having a horrible cold. This seeing is what roots me in kindness and peace no matter what circumstances my body and mind experiences.
In this mist, I received this poem today, may it help you like it helped me: to open the eyes of your heart:
I have died so many times and each time been revived with a little less flesh in my chest.
A hollow space has replaced what used to be solid.
Experiences of my life leave less and less trace as I stay amazed by the grace that moves my breath in this frail temple.
My waking life feels like dreams used to
My dreams at night are echoes of the countless of stories that I was entangled in.
Stories from before the great opening of the knot in my heart began. Now the stories play out like raindrops on the still surface of the lake. Each of them adding to the cup I call my fate.
I drink it slowly and enjoy the fruits of peace that matures with each passing season, each wave of complete breaths and complete actions.
Now I am hollow like an old oak.
Things and beings live inside me day and night.
I need not worry, I know I am a home to wonders and miracles. After all, it is only after its death that the Oak becomes as most alive
To my swedish friends, should you wish to send me monetary support by swish 0708695333, I would be very grateful 🙂