In This City 2

This morning I woke up and started to think about how it started, how my first weeks were in Amsterdam after I arrived here in February. I remember I didn’t visit many places in the beginning, and I still miss many of them. As I’m not a tourist in Amsterdam and I know I’m going to spend a lot of time in this city, I don’t force to see all the places, which are usually full of tourists. I’m wondering whether this is the right thing to do. You keep telling yourself you have so much time, and you could go any time, but actually you’ll never go. Those who feel they have options are rich. Because of such choices I missed the Louvre and d’Orly in Paris, and I’m still misssing Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. I want to believe that I still have lots of time to change this situation.

You might feel it, you might not, but lately I’m having a pretty hard time. I just don’t feel I have those options that make people feel rich anymore. Or it’s hard to accept the options life is offering me. And yes it’s mostly about running again. Running is a game. Life should be a game, too. I don’t say I would die without running. Lots of people live without it. My problem is that running has become the main issue in my life in many ways and my body just said no for it. When you run, your body is under the control of your mind. Your body is just a slave you use to feel good… Since my knees got hurt, all I feel is that my mind has become a bad slave of my body. At the same time I start to realize and admire how easy this creature can screw up lives. I have to get used to it, I know, but honestly, I was not sure for a long while if I want to make this choice. Life takes you to the farthest places you cannot imagine.

I’m trying to make and accept compromises. I feel as a gambler sitting in the casino, there is this wealthy man sitting in front of me, he’s wearing suit, he looks elegant and generous. He’s old, but the smoke from his cigar and the strange light above the table doesn’t let me see his face. He’s got all the coins in the world, I only have some. And we are playing. I pretend I never give it up.

If one door closes, another one opens. For me it was the door of the swimming pool, after the gate of Vondelpark became the heavy sign of the weakness of my body. I passed almost a year without swimming and it was nice to get back to it. Water is a magical substance with many hallucinogenic effects. The last time I dipped into the water I fell in a kind of meditative state. I completely switched off reality around me, I only saw black stains instead of people’s heads and I went on my own trip with almost closed eyes and with the automated moves of my body.

I’m putting my head in the water and I let it come up by its nature, I’m taking a breath, I pretend that I’m the fastest frog in the lake, then suddenly I become a well-designed combat plane in mission - I’m having a nice acrobatic turn at the end of the pool. I’m getting so far in my thoughts and so easy in floating that I almost forget about breathing. Water is getting into the system, but my experienced instincts solve the problem without coughing, so I can put my head into the water again. When breathing air out in the water, I hear strange noises. This is a baby in a womb dreaming about her mum’s guts.

What a strange thing that we can forget about breathing, while dolphins breathe consciously. They never fall asleep, they never dream, because if they lose conscious they stop breathing and they die. I’m wondering if this is why they make love more often than necessary for maintenance. Then I’m trying hard not to think at all. My buddhist friend told me this is the essence of meditation and it’s a very demanding and elevating state. I’m trying hard not to think. When I forget about mind, I’ll also forget about body.