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“Spiritual practice is the capacity to offer your love even when you feel hurt, closed down, tense, angry, misunderstood, or hated.”
- David Deida

Maybe

It was a sunny day. We were up on a hill, there, were this fresh and dense lawn is. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, some sheets of paper around... just relaxing, maybe sinking into the bed of grass. I was sitting with my legs crossed, enjoying the gentle breeze and the sun in my back.

A mosquito landed on the back of his hand. I hesitated for a while. It was touching his skin with it's needle searching for vulnerable spots. He does not have any, I thought. But what if? I chased it away with a smooth move. The tips of my fingers touched his dark skin. It felt like a sip of water. Very surprising.

He smiled slowly. I noticed how the breeze is playing games with his curls. Suddenly it came to me, that I might have been a bit thirsty and I started analyzing that feeling. Did not stop untill he very quietly cackled. "Ehm?" "Ahh... nothing. Just the hair tickles me in face." His eyes were closed. I reached for the disobedient curl and softly placed it back, where it belonged. Tips of my fingers took advantage of that and without my wanting slipped by his face, almost not touching it. Another deep sip of water.

It took just a spit of a second for my inhibits to fire. They were mercifull and did not take me down this time. I just moved a bit back and took a large smile. He opened his eyes and smiled too. We both laughed at the moment. Relief.
We got up and walked away, like if nothing has happened. Maybe it was so.

Entering someone else's dream

I took the airport bus with Sanji this morning and stayed with him in the line while he waited to take off his shoes and empty his pockets. We held hands and stood together and it was a little awkward, but funny. He's shorter, thinner than me. That was a pretty weird thing for me to acknowledge but it doesnt even matter anymore. The caring love that reaches far out of his soul is large enough to shelter anyone seeking that kind of thing. We talked about porn and women and lots of other insignificants stuff. Words became unimportant. Voice was just a thin lead running to reality. The place was somewhat distant. And yet full of proximity.
The proximity remained even after he left. Well, it had always been here. And I was not afraid to reach for it as my inhibits were off. I walked past purposefull people. Distant and sad to tears, but not alone this time.

The time of shame and embarrassment was gone, all expectations killed, and simple handholding told the entire story. And I knew I was never ever going to meet him again. I could not go through it again. This fire burned everything there was to burn. It provided nourishing ashes for the freshly reborn Phoenix. But that was it. It was a once time only. The Phoenix was aging and could not survive another painfull death, no matter how rewarding the ressurection felt.

I was thinking of him again. How he has been there for me for so long. How I would feed of that loving care returning nothing more than admiration and appreciation. Was that really enough for him? Or was there more to it that I will never understand? Strangely enough, it never occured to me that the reason and motor could be kindness. That kindness that often hurts down in the soul after being discovered. The kindness that has intention to help, but wounds deeply.

Switching paddle for rope

Montejunto was once again beautifull. Scattered clouds, little wind, warm but not burning sun. We did El Manco (charming and long V) in the end of the day. Reached the top around sunset. The dusk came fast.


Lately, I've been enjoying climbing with Jakub.

And I am not speaking just about the nice company he keeps, it is also the simple enjoyment of someone climbing nice.

True, he has strong forearms from playing Canoe-polo. But he also has talent. Or "a heart" for it.