Segment 9/3……… / My whole live I have looked at all the wrong places for a mentor. That special person I would learn from, be inspired, and to lean on when the world goes dark. Needless to say, that special person had been right there in my life which I was too busy living. Today I see the faith, the kindness he showed me in so many ways and it humbles me deeply. The second time I moved back into the flat he owned, he must have known that I came with a broken heart, and a matching spirit. After a shy knock on the door the next morning he rolled his big easel into my sun filled reading nook. He looked at me for a few seconds, and placed his hand on my upper arm in a reassuring way, as to let me know that I am not alone. That the world will be alright again. I painted late at night for weeks, until finally also my heart had arrived. ~~~~~~~~~~ During the years to follow, when back in the States, my mind often traveled to that place where my soul was whole. To find that peace again I used to have when I listened to the church bells in the morning, before the sun had made it through the dense fog above the river. ——All that is part of my inner landscape now. An old imaginary wooden swing on long weathered hemp cords reached down a million miles away into my safe place. I needed to go there often for so many years – when badly hurt, or out of answers, often literally scared to death. ~~~~~ I can’t tell which of the three made me leave this world for a little while again and again. I see majestic trees sheltering a huge boulder overgrown by moss and ivy. ~~~~~ I would just lay there completely still, and look through the open windows into my old bedroom. The long white curtains caress the old parquet with the slightest breeze. I smell his pipe again, it is such a wonderful smell, because I instantly knew where it came from. I see his friendly, old wise eyes as he makes his way slowly towards the flower beds, making sure everything is growing and flourishing, as he does at the very same time every single morning! How I loved that smell. He was the kindest soul I have ever met. ~~~~~ My inner landscape changed again as I grieved when he died last Summer. —— My old friend no longer walks by my empty flat with the old windows to enjoy the Spring air. His beautiful wife dies days later, for no apparent reason at all. —– I completely and utterly understand how one wouldn’t want to go on without such a beautiful soul on their side. ——-The loss made us all wander, and somehow melt into the place itself which was a home no longer. Not to us, alive or dead, but our absence turned the house into a place with a beating heart again, of a story to be told and a void to be filled. Even now I still find myself there, looking through my dark curls into the open windows in complete silence. I see the muslin curtains moving softly over the old shiny floors. I sense the sweetness of my youngest daughter, just days old back then, and I can almost hear the fast little feet of my oldest laughing and playing. I can see him making his way to the flower beds, smoking his pipe, checking if Spring had yet arrived. —— While my soul is in mourning, the early sun is rising slowly behind the house while the church-bells call on us for another day……….. ~~~ Love and Light to all of you. ~~~~~ Simone’.