The last couple of days there are forests surrounding my path. That’s nice, more protection from the sun and a much more diverse route. Tonight I set up camp just outside of the village of Safaalan. I like to camp in the vicinity of people, never deep into the woods. I can hear the goatherd going home with the bells of his animals ringing. Dogs are barking around the herd. A motorcycle is gearing up in the distance. At 7 and at 9 the megaphone voice of the imam comes loud and clear to me over the eastern wind. I believe this to be a life one, at least I hear no bleeps and he sings out of tune. It must for real then, mustn’t it? At 5 PM he’s back again and I haven’t slept much in the meantime. I don’t feel specially tired and I just can’t find the right spot. The near full moon sits in an open skye, the crickets do their sounds and there’s a lot of rustling in the shrubs. Slowly it grows cold and I zip my sleeping bag and my tent close. Still not sleepy. Not that I mind. I feel good tonight, I have a feeling of space.
It is a space that is created by walking, by being occupied with the walk and not so much anything else. It is space that opens up to what’s here at this moment. Sometimes it’s sorrow or loneliness, yes, but just as many times it’s pleasure, fulfillment and joy. It exists together in this space because it all has a right to be there. Because it is there. This space therewith cancels out apparent contradictions. You can’t create this space with logic or willpower. It comes into being by looking through your heart. It is a pity to see how we can make our space small by holding on to how it should be, by people who tell us it can’t be, by fear and uncertainty.
Today my space is a possible siesta under every shady tree and a new path behind every bend in the road. I feel happy with this space I found tonight. I am a lucky person. I do get up out of my tent with some physical difficulty this morning though.;)