Wittenberg – Leipzig

The past days I passed through Wittenberg, a town in preparation for the 500 year anniversary of Martin Luther and his thesises.

Here’s where Luther made his first steps to bring about a well needed change in the Christian tradition.

Coughing and having a cold is no problem when you can stay with such an amazing friend like Andrea!

I also slept in the music instrument workshop of Jörg, a didgeridoo and mandolin magician and landlord of the vegan organic café “Vlora” run by dear Anka:

After Wittenberg and a quite ardous walk in wind and rain, I finally arrived to Richard and Sofia, my hosts in Leipzig:

What a surprise to find out that my new wonderful friends happened to walk 2000km for 6 months last autumn and winter from Rostock to Barcelona!

I will soon hibernate like the inhabitants of this stump 

Now I am preparing for a big shift in my life. In exactly 10 days, the 12th of December, I will take a train to Sweden to be with my family, friends and grandmother over Christmas and to spend the wintertime publishing my first fantasy book.

The luxury of a pennyless pilgrim

I have now walked for soon six months, and the last three almost entirely without money. To live like this is actually quite a luxury. Because everyday, every meal and every roof over my head, comes in the form of true gifts from others. True gifts as in gifts that are given without the thought of getting something in return.

Every day I get this luxury of seeing people give from their heart, their broad smiles and the tears of joy like the organic storekeeper who gave me food, or the manager of a bed and breakfast who gave me a room without any fee.

Sunlight, a gift from the Sun that requires nothing in return.

This is something I wish everyone gets to experience. Both to give from the heart, and to recieve such gifts. Each time you eat a meal or go to sleep in your bed can become such a moment. Even if you paid for the food or your house, someone still made it for you. Somehow the money tricks us. The money makes a kind of illusionary magic and we forget that other people still made these things. We forget the plants, insects, animals, mushrooms, mountains and rains that helped us to make this moment.

When we pay for things we forget that they are still gifts

How can we get back to this place of giving and recieving you ask?

Marshal Rosenberg explains it perfectly in this video (a warning: watching this video may utterly transform your life)

To my swedish friends:
Kära vänner. Det är nu tio dagar kvar till jag tar paus från Fredsvandringen. Vintertid kommer jag vara med min kära farmor och publicera min första fantasybok. En bok som kommer finansiera fredsvandringens nästa fas till våren, men det är en bit kvar tills dess. 

Så om du har funnit inspiration och motivation i mitt arbete med denna blogg och mitt fredsvandrande tar jag mer än gärna emot din gåva till +46708695333 via swish <3

The path to peace might seem endless if we focus only the far distance. But each step in the right direction takes us closer.

Sometimes poems come to me. These two came a calm day while I was resting.

“The Flower of Life”

At the end of your breath grows a flower

Its stem so fragile, its smell so faint

It grows stronger

In every breath free of constraint

At the end of your breath grows a flower

Its petals are sunlight, so beautiful it blinds your eyes

Its colors are endless, a spiraling rainbow across the sky

At the end of your breath grows a flower

It grows by your kindness, it’s forever rooted in your heart

It’s the flower of life, the flower on your grave, the flower that you give to your beloved with your first kiss

At the end of your breath grows a flower

You water it with tears of joy

You wither it by trying too hard to control

The wild nature of your soul

“You are like the beggar in the Street”

In every heartbeat

You beg in the private chamber of your mind

Pleading for mercy, pleading to be free of pain

Please give me pleasure

Please spare me from sickness

Please give me happiness

Please, please

But only when your life is turned around

When your comforts are cast aside

The veils of false beliefs swept away

And you lay there naked, sweating, freezing, bleeding

Do you hear this prayer of yours

And know not to look the other way

The next time you see the beggar in the street

The next time you see yourself in the mirror