Do you know that feeling? That you constantly threaten to drown, can only keep your head above the turbulent water? That your body feels heavier and sometimes you really have to sputter panicly? And that suddenly, sent from the cosmos, your body illuminates itself? That you're being lifted up? Ascending like a balloon, leaving the water? You start floating, spinning and spinning and not knowing well what is below and above? A personal blog about how my life suddenly changes completely. Rationally, I can explain it to myself. But on the inside, it's just a blind panic.

The last drops

The rent and associated fixed charges have been cancelled. I don't have a home anymore (see: 'Yes, I'm just going to hiber'), although I live with Tania. I have to land here, but I'm kind of displaced. My stuff in Holland, body and mind here. I leave the water drops one by one; they leave my skin, splash in the water beneath me and that lightens me. The question immediately arises whether it is finer here in the air. Freer anyway, the impetuous water is gone. The freedom of movement is immense and boundless. Nothing stops me or inhibits me, at most myself. But I don't see the Earth right now. Only the radiant blue of the sky; above me, below me, everywhere. Desperately, I'm looking for balance, but maybe it just takes time. In proportion, I feel the excitement of this adventure. The odds, the enrichment of life. In my mind I feel the same, but it's a little slower in understanding. And I realize it can be impetuous here too. That it can blow and storm here.

I usually like to swim, not of that. But get tired of it too quickly. I'd like to touch the earth with my feet. In this respect, it may have been more convenient to slowly leave the water in this way. Safer. To the mainland. But yes, the air feels so attractive. That earth is so limited. Now I can go anywhere. Now I can see everything. They say it when you dive into the deepest oceans, they say it when your parachute jumps from high altitudes: let it happen, let it be carried away. Then it's the best feeling in the world and you look out your eyes. Then you learn and come to insights.


Maybe it's an addiction. To adrenaline. And then not in the sporty sense of the word. I want to make it difficult for myself, to escape and do exactly what I like most. I prefer the most difficult way, because that safe road is too stable to me, without ever experiencing the added value of that stability. Because that struggling in the water wasn't because I was tired, but just didn't have any more sense in it. Wanted something else. Maybe. In terms of imagery, these are questions that may not require an answer. Let it happen.


Yet I notice that all the ballast I leave behind feels good. My cabin has never been my cottage. I didn't feel good in the water, not nice in the water in that place. I'm floating. Literally above the other side of the world. I realize, maybe the Earth is my next goal, my next location. And I find peace and lasting satisfaction there. Maybe the fire will ignite in a different way and I'll get into my element there. But for now, I'm floating, like by a circus cannon or as launched by an airplane. And as the drops fly off my body, the peace will return again. And I enjoy the view, which will soon reveal itself. Now this one is still foggy and cloudy and I have to give it time. Breathe in, exhale. Panic does not lead to anything. Breathe in, exhale. And float.