collection: life's little wonders

LIFE'S LITTLE WONDERS #3: KILI - ON MOUNTAIN SICKNESS

The locals call it Mountain Sickness. I knew it by the name Altitude Sickness. I thought it comprised of prolonged headache, nausea, insomnia, and loss of appetite. What I didn't know is that if you do not suffer from any, or all, of the above you might still suffer from lack of energy. In other words, you'd be drained from all power to lift one foot and place it on the ground again. What I also didn't know is that many days after your successful ascent and descent to and from the summit you might suffer from a sickness akin to homesickness.

You may call it mountain sickness.

LIFE'S LITTLE WONDERS #2: IF MY HEART HAD EYES

I asked Ketut, the driver who accompanied me on my sightseeing tours, why the Balinese cover the lower parts of statues. He answered (in an acquired Australian accent):

Because they have a spirit. I have a spirit, I cover my body. They have a spirit too, why shouldn't they be covered like me?

There is a god in everything. There is a god in this statue. There is a god in this ant. There is a god in me. There is a god in you.

When I take a flower from this tree, for my offering, I take it and thank the tree for the flower. When I take a banana from a tree, I thank the tree for the banana.

LIFE'S LITTLE WONDERS #1: BREATHE

A wise friend once told me, “you have the right to take your time, all the time.”

I was at the time frustrated from having to keep up with an increasingly fast-paced life. I prefer to take things slow; when eating, when writing, even when hiking. It seems to allow me to better digest my surroundings, and my emotions. Especially when hiking. When things long-buried and forgotten start to rise up from the dead and try to befriend you again: old insecurities, fears, and anxieties. When challenged, even in the arms of nature, one can easily get caught up in mindless, inner chatter, and forget that what we take for granted, perhaps the most, is key to peace of mind.

If I would ever get a tattoo, it’d read: “breathe”. At the beginning. At the end. Throughout.