"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
-Anais Nin
When I set out on this journey, I didn't consciously make a decision to begin in Berlin. But, as I wake up, I realize why I am here. I had to first tear down the inner wall to know, really KNOW what Rumi meant in There is a Field:
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down on that grass
the world is too full to talk about."
This journey is my invitation to deconstruct the wall that has held me prisoner of right and wrong, good and bad in order for me to experience the fullness of life. With every corner I turn, I discover life taking place in outdoor cafes where people slow down to feel the balmy summer kissing their skin. They linger into the languishing evening when the darkness comes so late--a trite reminder that one has to sleep at some point.
I am enjoying the contrast of ornate cathedrals and the elegance of modern archetecture. I envision a wall where now I see the drab buildings of the former communist east juxtaposed with the creativity of the artistic west. I am touched by the stories of resillient spirits and the sheer perserverance of relentless citizens of the former East who risked their lives to join loved ones on the other side. A hot air balloon, a submarine, a bridge ladder that disassembled into 3 pieces. People contorted themselves and hid in gas tanks of the tiny vehicles that symbolized the oppression of the East. So many stories of lovers reunited, of families brought back together. And, what struck me most was a story about a border guard who escaped. His message was:
"All too often people see the wall guardians, the possible murderers. I am convinced that the number of those captured or shot at the wall would be at least 10 times as high if those serving there were merely blindly carrying out orders. So it should be just the other way around... Therefore, I call upon everyone from West-Berlin who visits the border to see through the uniform."
I wonder how beautiful life would be if we could see through the shrouds we all wear on a daily basis. Like the border guard uniforms, they serve as a futile attempt to divide us from one another. They come in the form of nationality, ranking, language, age, gender, social class, the car you drive. All symbols we wear to identify with a cause no matter how grand or small. They allow for right and wrongdoing, when all along, underneath the garb of lies, there is a longing so deep, it cannot be quelled by this charade. Underneath it all, we long to be loved...
I think about this as I say goodbye to Berlin and arrive in Vienna...
I now sit in a Viennese restaurant overlooking the countless individuals sprawled on a garden lawn. Children running gleefully. A young boy dipping his feet into a fountain. A couple kissing as if the world around them ceased to exist. A dad raising his young baby overhead with a smile so loving it does something to my heart. As I watch all this life taking place around me, my heart is filled. Yet, something also happens to my soul. I have slowed to the point that I am just sitting there, unconcerned about asking for the bill. Not worried if I am outstaying my welcome. Nobody is rushing me, and so I take a deep sigh and surrender. And, there is suddenly space in my soul. My notebook is blank. And, without seeking to understand, I remember Rumi's words... "When the soul lies down on that grass, the world is too full to talk about."
With my wall torn down and my soul lounging on that grass, I surrender to the journey ahead and notice as buds blossom into their brilliance.
