The wild wind.
I hold on to my roots. Down there is where the deep breaths lie. And I hold on to the deep breaths. They carry me through.
On the surface everything is moving fast. If I were a tree my branches would be exploding with leaves and colours and a million new eyes, they would grow miles over night, and they would get high from the touch of the wind and the endless summer light. That is the speed of my life right now. That is how intense it it.
People from around the world are coming to see us. They are coming here to help us build our dream. I imagined it would be good. And it is, but it is so much more than good. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for meeting these people. A moment ago we were strangers, and the next they are sitting on our couch, in our forest home, drinking a cup of tea and having a chat.
And we share our lives for a couple of weeks. Our dreams and realities, mixing, growing, expanding, inspiring. We talk, we build, we go for a swim.
And then they move on. We are glimpses in each others lives. And what we have shared and experinced and learned from one another, we carry with us as we part.
And I realise that my whole summer will be filled with these amazing meetings, but also with the melancholy of saying good bye.
I hold on to the depth of my soul. As the wind carries me through the wild and beautiful landscape.
And I hold on to my roots. I draw strength from my roots. My dreams. My body.
Sometimes when I move very very slowly I can feel the sound of the earth like low humming tickles against my skin.