Week 11- Betty Jarra

Posted: June 13, 2011 in Betty Jarra, Week 11

Flying Lesson 11

Had a really nice friend over for breakfast. Since he was sitting on the wall across the water from where I live on my island, looking in my direction, I told him to come over. We talked a lot and now, as he left, he sent me a text message explaining that it’s an amazingly good walking weather.
So I’m off on my flying lesson. I think I’ll just empty the tanks from thoughts and be a glider today.
Since the weather is veryy graygraygray it should work well with empty think tanks.
The teacher me decided that I should to be ready for that by now.

It’s good I already started the lesson and have left the runway, cause by now the whole world have disappeared. I’m gliding in silent solitude, no disturbances.

Planning is important when gliding so I decided to take the road along the water, Norrmälarstrand. Taking the bus there, cause it will find it’s way through gray, and I walk down to the beach.
Everything is really gray, the sky like soft cotton, the water with different gray and gray-blue tones.
My tanks are soon almost empty and whenever it bubbles inside I focus on gray. It’s a bit hard because the gray sparkles in both redish brown and blue sometimes. But an empty tank is the idea when gliding, so I focus.

After some time along the shore I recall that I am heading towards the world’s best meditation spot. “My own” narrow upright concrete chair, overlooking the water and all the gray. I have meditated there before and I love that chair.
It is some kind of sitting sculpture, there are a couple of them along that walk, but this one is the best!
Of course it’s empty on a graygray day like this so I sit down to be embraced by gray concrete and the, quite warm, wooden seat and back. Embraced by gray while embracing the gray.

20 minutes of meditation should work and is, as expected, absolutely wonderful!
I manage to keep a perfect 20 minutes with all the noise, screaming, whoosh, mumbling and scratching around me. I handle most of it and let everything pass by, just breathing, but I need to practice more to get it really quiet in there.
Then I give myself a well earned 10 minutes rest enjoying both the eggsandwich I brought along and the very gray view. It is a bit similar to a Japanese Zen garden, sand, a couple of smooth round rocks just by the edge of the water, straight reeds slowly swaying. The sun is a pale circle that I can look straight into without getting harmed for life and the seagulls are silently yearning for a better fishing weather so they can chase each others catches as they are used to.

Then I walk again to get warm, and end up in a happy landing in the middle of the City Hall garden. Bridal couples are swoshing past me to the left and right and a grotesquely large group of Russian tourists are guided almost right into me. I was wondering a while if they believe that I will hover over them, but they make way at the last minute.
I guess they didn’t trust my ability to fly yet.
Moving on towards the city, away from tourist crowds, I decide to try the café I passed last saturday. I find an empty table and sit there for an hour warming my fingers on a pitcher of chai tee, reading a book I brought along.  After only a couple of pages I realise that I don’t like it so I stop reading. Empty tanks work better!

When I’m out again, the gray has come even closer and is now sitting on the rooftops.
The gray is slowly covering everything and when I reach the last bridge, it has devoured my island completely.
I love living on an island in the fog. It makes you realise that you’re really on an island!

From my side the rest of the world is gone and if it is’nt there, I don’t have to think about it.



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