We’re moving out, with a months notice. The new home is there, just need to put a bathroom and kitchen in. Good we got swift and Samuelsson on the job, and Domnul Åke of course. Still, a slight stress since the moving out-date is sooner than the moving-in-date is possible. Unfortunately, or maybe suitingly I’d booked in a retreat just before this all happened. So I escaped the madness and went (again) up north and into the forest.
So, last Saturday I went off the train in Rättvik, the mountains had a clear blur color and Siljan was covered in ice. The walk from the train station to Berget made me feel a thrill of what for me was the first steps into a undiscovered world, even though the path had been treaded by thousands of people before me.
The last bit up through the woods I stopped and turned my phone off, it felt like part of a modern holy ritual. The last 40 minutes of walking I’d met only a couple of people. My sock had slided down in my shoe and already given me a blister, in combination with my unreachebleness and belongings packed in the old climbing bag Nigel found left in a pub as a teenager it made me feel alive and far more adventurous then I can give myself cred for.
I arrived in time for dinner and a quick introduction of what to expect the following four days; silence and a monastic rhythm, food and company without words and some teaching. Telling you peeps, silence is wild.