A bar of lavender soap lies beside the wash basin. Each morning, when I come to the bathroom that is not mine, for a glimpse of a second, I mistake it for a mobile phone. Similar shape, and smartphones have become so omnipresent, so indispensable. Need to say, I am overwhelmed. Still not fully recognising I have wrapped up my existence in Brussels, quit the embassy job, emptied the Ixelles flat, and took a plane with two suitcases. All the rest is in boxes and vacuum bags at different places. Things I have claimed I had a few. Even a few grew to quite a pile. Need to say, a lot of them I never bought, they somehow landed at me. Emptying the fridge, a handful of nail polish bottles went to the trash (my daughter’s acquisition). Also, a frozen raspberry cream leftover from last summer’s cake (joint venture). I was packing mindfully. A few boxes prepared for friends: books and cups and candles and such. Bags of textile into clothes bins. Recycling container once appeared in the neighbourhood as a community courtesy and it came handy for old bed frames and such.
And still, some nights, I was staring at things I had no clue what to do about. Dog-eared photos, pens, utensils, beauty products, sheets with yoga sessions (my creations) an old camera I wanted to repair. I did sorting out as carefully as capable of. Simultaneously, handing over the secretary agenda to… Nobody. Nobody to hand it over to. A situation that made everybody else at the service nervous. Who would do the job? I am very sensitive to pressure from others.
Applying grounding exercises, countless yoga nidra sessions, breathing techniques. On my final Friday at the office, almost everybody is out. A bright winter day, one of a few, as the year 2024 was quite sombre in the western part of Europe. The sun shimmering on surfaces filling the secretary room. It used to be a food preparation space. In the times when the house was an elegant bourgeois mansion. I packed a sand-filled cloth rhinoceros (a gift from a friend), a few funny stamps (a dragonfly among them), and a few personal folders. Left several documents to be signed on the table, with the keys and the mobile phone, and walked out saying good-bye to a colleague who has become a buddy the past year. Head/mind rarely stops swirling, as we know. At that moment of leaving, though, my mind really did shut up. Perhaps a frozen copying mechanism that I am aware of within my system? Or calmness of knowing this is a good decision? I left behind some pots of thriving plants, some had names. These past weeks, the computer was reminding me before logging in: You should change your password within so and so many days. But I counted the days, and did not change the password, the old one lasted as long as my resigned contract.
This is the way I will be gone for good one day. Some fuss, some movements, then, silence.
For the moment, it is an ending and ended chapter.
Having moved frequently (from my home country to Belgium), from a house to a house, from a family house to a big apartment (children still around), to a smaller apartment in busting Ixelles, I have become a minimalist when it comes to things, sticking to favourites: a coffee percolator, a favourite salad bowl, cups are a matter of choice, (never found an ideal lemon squeezer, but still searching for it). So, I packed the favourites into two suitcases, and the rest went to my friend‘ s house. He is currently putting up an airb&b in the very same neighbourhood. Universe’s playfulness.
Standing at the landing at a friend’s where I found refuge for the last days before departure, I was panicking when looking down the steep stairs of another townhouse, this one in St. Gilles. No way I have the force to bring the two suitcases down. The cortisol levels has taken a toll on the sleep, despite nidra yoga breathing techniques. For a moment I feel I cannot carry any item anymore. And did it anyway, got the small and the big suitcase down, stepping on the pavement where bars were getting ready for another Sunday crowd, coffee places already busy. I head to Woluwe St Stephens suburbs, from there another dear soul takes me to airport.
Leaving the town after 20 years. Many comfortable years of family life security (on the outside only, all the shadows hidden in the light of prosperous EU officials’ situation were sleeping in the darkness). Then a huge rupture – divorce – what felt as a multiply treason – chaos of not knowing what to do about broken pieces and debris. As it goes, it turned into the best emancipation, self-discovery, walk-the-yoga-talk path. Layer upon layer peeling off. 6 years at the diplomatic service where a lot of tribal in us, humans, gets the upper hand. Grateful for the 6 years immensely. Quite some lessons learnt:
If somebody is abusive, recognize it, and put a stop on it showing the person clear boundaries.
Every situation mirrors back what needs to be brought to awareness.
Now, stepping into the unknown. A mixture of feelings, sensations, teaching me again that we are a process and a never ending one.
Where is my takeaway coffee mug I don’t know at this point. The rhinoceros is in the car boot, that I know. Items appear here and there, Universe, again, playing its playful side. Lila hum.
Sleeping the tiredness away. Laughing, dancing, not knowing.
One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. Carl Jung.
Here are a few of my tools for shaky times: cold shower every morning, no matter how the mind tries to tell me out of it; barefoot on the ground as often as it gets; full prana belly breath; frequent walks through forests and fields; being present to feelings, thoughts, sensations; supportive yoga asanas; regular seated morning meditation; lot of water and a good deal of coffee; companionship of kindred souls (both humans and non-humans); journaling. All of them contribute to placing the centre o awareness into the heart and thus enable allignment of physical, mental and emotional boddies with the essence of the being.
