One of the reasons we moved south was to be able to be around friends. Not so much an ideological community, a forced community, a community on/in SPITE… just friends. Real friends. Old friends. Not roles and hierarchies and people living through us. Wanting things from us. We needed to relocate because we needed to get away from all that.
And when we did… thats when the flooding came. I was FLOODED with spirituality.
I awoke from my slumber. I fucking found happiness.
And so it hit me hard when we got the message that we couldn’t stay in the house where we lived. Suckerpunch. I thought my awakening had been an illusion.
One day Jeppe was helping his old friend Tobias build a cabin in the woods.
A man named Kim, a carpenter, was working nearby and heard the noises. He came to say hello. Carpenters have a special code. They respect the craft and so they spoke, in the language of craft, and Jeppe told him about our situation.
One day Kim, the carpenter, was helping a couple closing down their property for winter.
He told them about us and what we had done in the forest.
Couple of days later Kim was driving around in town.
Our car had broke down. Jeppe was walking on the sidewalk, pretty pissed off. Kim spots Jeppe and offers him a ride. While they drive Kim tells Jeppe about this place in the woods, by a lake, by it self, old, old. And so when the car is fixed we go there to have a look.
It was a great spot in the universe.
We write a letter to the owners.
And then something spectacular happens. This is where it gets weird.
The owners GETS us. They understand. They agree…. that houses are alive, trees are alive, energies must be right. And that we, as a culture, need to find other ways of doing things, other ways of relating.
We begin a quiet, I would not call it negotiation but we begin writing to each other, getting to know each other. Our situation. Their situation. The story of the house. The story of us.
The house is old, centuries old.
And it is loved.
Red on the outside but timber framed, old kind of roof underneath the roofing sheets, a large old school baking oven, a root cellar, no electricity. A well. A barn. Old oak trees. By it self. In the woods. In the woods.
It made sense… to restore the old, build on the foundations of our ancestors. Take care of the resources already available.
We visit the place often.
First time I saw it a falcon flew over it.
Second time two ravens.
The door begins to open.
Yesterday they told us we could live there. They know we don’t have a lot of money. They know the arrangement has to be… different. They know we´re… different.
And it´s allright.
Couple of hours later a german publisher writes me, they’d like to publish “the great escape” in Germany.
And Maja, our friend from the forest, lands a deal on a perfect house for her and her child. Nearby.
And I chat with my friend in the spiritual community, we agree upon a collaboration, I´m going down that path now, I’m walking in a world of spirits, I´m walking in the world… alive.