The White Wall
All of the interior walls of my temporary home in Denmark are freshly painted in bright white. My fingers poised on the computer keyboard, I raise my eyes to the stark white wall in front of me. Nothing. Emptiness. My fingers are not moving. Nothing is being typed. A gigantic clean slate is laid out in front of me. I have not written a single blog post for five weeks. Why? Simple. There is nothing forthcoming. The story has been told. Now what?
As I tend to my ailing father who is afflicted with advanced Morbus Parkinson’s disease, related dementia and physical frailty, I am amazed and humbled at the limitless well of love, compassion and patience that I have become. There is no drama, just the spaciousness of freedom, and liberation from some attachment to matters of life and death I didn’t even know I had.
All kinds of people are part of my everyday experience – the bank teller, the person with the nice white dog, the taxi driver who takes my dad and me to the sea, the once-famous German actress, the man who cleans the toilets on the campground, the helpful lady at a store. They are all the same to me. I make no distinction, neither am I more friendly or less friendly to any of them because of who I perceive them to be. In fact I don’t even perceive them to be anybody in particular! Our moment in time together simply feels like a natural meeting of human beings. No preoccupation, no judgment, just space and love.
The intense waves of emotions, of acute grief, fear, mourning, loss, even of joy and occasional uplifting excitement – they have subsided. Sometimes I wonder, am I in denial? No. The ocean is the ocean is the ocean: infinite, vibrant, expansive and very much alive. And I am in it, part of this ocean, equanimous. Not containing myself into any way of being at all but open, available and permeable. It feels good.
Staring at the white wall in front of me, my heart is open, my mind is empty and my body is relaxed. There is no ambition to fulfill in order for me to feel good, or successful, or that I have achieved something meaningful. I don’t even want to write a book about Lokita-the-Phoenix rising from the ashes, after the Great Tragedy! Perhaps the divine mystery has another plan for the book I will write, perhaps not; who knows; and does it matter, really?
At this point I marvel at the magic of simplicity. What makes me happy right now?
Looking back at the two indescribable years that lie behind me, two activities stand out as having given me great joy – studying Spanish, and partaking in aqua fitness classes. I did choose those consciously after Steve died during the cancer treatment, because I needed something to survive; something to bring a tiny little ray of light into the deep, deep hole in the dark, dark tunnel.
You may or may not know that I have been an aquatic bodywork therapist and teacher since 1995, in fact that’s how I met Steve – in the warm water, in a Watsu class at Harbin Hot Springs, California. It makes me happy to be in the water. I love the slowness it invites me into. The connection with the oneness. The rising and falling with the breath. The ease and the flow.
Soon I will participate in a course to become an aqua fitness instructor. I so look forward to that! Whom might I meet? Will I find my voice? How will it be to teach this wonderful modality? Can I bring my experience of meditation and Tantra into my classes? How amazing and lovely that I am returning to work/play in the water!
Oh, and studying Spanish – I do that, too, every Wednesday on Skype with Miguel from Colombia. He is a wonderful teacher, we have a great connection, and Spanish comes to me quite effortlessly. I find it to be a much more sensual, visceral language than German (lol) and yes, than English, too. For example, reading Buddha’s teachings in Spanish makes me feel them, and understand them in completely new ways; something to do with my heart.
And then there is the complete, existential trust that I am and will be a tantrika until I die. Soon, I will resume teaching.
While I am writing this, facing my white wall, I notice a small black fly sitting right in the center of it. The fly on the wall. I love it!
Better and better. I was wondering just where you were. Now I know. Makes sense and I love the idea of you in the water, loving people and helping them heal with it.
PS. My experience with my mother and those around her was much the same and this morning I was missing the place she lived and Nick, who worked at the desk on Fridays. Must visit.
Sending you much Love, xox Eme
Wow, your masterfully poignant post has moved me. The activation of my heart upon reading your post has migrated to the third chakra as I write this reply. Have you imported the sensual and visceral nature of Spanish into your writing of English?
Sending love to you Lokita. May your journey be beautiful.
Thank you, Lokita.
Perhaps after two years of deep experiences it’s time for a bit of rest.
Thank you for sharing your journey
My exact thoughts
Ahhh…so much love and warm water…peace and sweetness…
I’ve been following your blog for about a year and I don’t know you personally… but I am so overjoyed to see such hope and simple joy at the end of this post. Your vulnerability and strength is beyond admirable, thank you for sharing your story with us all. <3
Was thinking of you yesterday, knowing when it was time you would resurface with another insightful writing which is always so relatable and a gift. Before I read your blog, I was listening to music by Mavis Staples who also channels love, wisdom and the devine. Be well and create memories with your DAD. Peace…….
Loving you back in the water where we met. Loving the peace you are finding.
💗
Lokita, I am always enchanted when I find your blogs on FB. There is so much you have encountered and to be at this place of peace? Magnificent. Thank you.
How peaceful yet energizing to connect with your heart energy Dear One. I feel as if I had been dinging with your soul. Thank you . . .
Lokita- thank you for your timely message of love, compassion, and patience. Especially the patience! I am putting this on my wall as my mantra while I care for my ailing mother and my dog. And I love picturing you working/playing in the water! What a delightful experience for you and your (future) students.
Love, Sue
So good to hear from you again! You’re sharing and writing is so poignant! I too am at peace in the water. What a lovely new saga you are undertaking. Always the teacher! Love and peace to you!
I believe, Lokita, that you are a very deep diver, and that you are slowly coming to the surface. Meanwhile it is about detachment while you heal. Sending you love ❤️
I had a little fly next to my computer last night, lovely little creature and so full of itself, more of a V than a fly. Little people sent to make us smile:)