And Then the Horses Came
I was in a beautiful place in Italy, surrounded by greenery, stunning views, and plenty of fresh air. A week earlier, I had signed the papers to sell my house in Belgium. This was during the same period when I was on set as an actress for a short film. Sometimes, acting in a film involves a lot of waiting, and in my case, portraying the role of a good (dull) mother. This time, I played a mother who was both fragile and decisive, actually desperate and sometimes just furious. Pulling out all those stops and collaborating with creative people made me feel alive.
In that beautiful place in Italy, sitting outside at a table, breathing in the delightful air, I was delving into the insights of David Bohm. He was a quantum physicist in the 20th century who did extensive research on the nature of reality. He also studied language because our Western languages contain assumptions that cause us to see a fragmented world rather than the "undivided wholeness" that is the true reality. I needed all my intelligence to process Bohm’s texts, but how wonderful it was to do that, to fully unleash the studious linguist in me and immerse myself in my focus for hours, truly absorbing new insights. It made me feel very much alive.
That morning, I had made an offer on a large property in Italy. A house with many rooms, space for a group room, artist studios, a food forest, and many other possibilities I cannot even think of yet. A place for research, arts, spirituality, and community living.
Yes, all that, I thought, as I looked up from my books and notes. All that is life for me: research on the nature of reality, creativity in the form of writing, acting, dancing, and much more, spirituality to keep reminding us of our true nature, all in an environment with other people who want the same. It can all flow. I can be playful and smart at the same time, light and still, and sometimes just decisive and enterprising. I don’t need to hold back.
That night, I woke up. I heard the sound of horses' hooves trotting past my bedroom window. I went outside to look and saw, a few meters away, two horses standing there. Light and still, strong and free. In harmony with the mystery of the night, with me. We don’t need to hold back. They made me feel alive.
Last night, I wondered when I would write a letter again. I am in a period of so many transitions, and I’m so in the midst of it that I don’t step aside to write about it. I prefer writing stories to sharing insights. I was brushing my teeth while looking through the skylight at the fading of the day. I’ll just write the story of the free horses, I thought. Then I saw, in that sky between day and night, a group of birds flying in a V-formation. A dance like a living painting framed by the skylight.
Life is a stunning undivided wholeness of freedom and creativity.
Much love,
Zoe
With my brother at the bridge close to the property in Italy
I am writing an article about David Bohm that will appear in the September issue of InZicht.
I am still negotiating with Mauro about the property in Italy.
The escaped horses had not been found back by the next day.
