When flowing becomes to much
I have largely managed to overcome the fear of loss. I live small, I live with less, but most importantly.... I LIVE. But then, what was the trick?
In Spain, they are known for taking plenty of time for everything. But despite being someone who starts to accept a slower rhythm, I found I was often inspired by fear. Especially the fear of 'not enough'.
In southern Europe, summers are hot and dry. This has been responded to for centuries with an ingenious irrigation system, tapping the water from the rivers at the top of the valley, taking it via channels (acequias), of many kilometers long, down to the fields for watering and filling the reservoirs (alberquas) in the spring.
This has been going well for centuries, our acequia is 900 years old.
There is water for everyone: you take into account that the neighbour a bit lower down the valley also needs water and so you use only what you need, on the time asigned to you.
The piece of land I live on is a bit lower than some of the neighbour's surrounding fields. Our little corner is fresh, green and fertile, compared to the rest. Of course, this is not without reason. Together with our neighbours, we tap from the acequia a bit above us. When the neighbours water their plants, water also seeps down the hill down to our corner, where we catch it with a small channel. Thus, the trees here generally have enough water throughout the summer.
But since a couple of weeks, it sounds strange, we have had water problems precisely with the dry and extremely hot weather.
And not just a little bit. You can hear the water rushing down the hill and meanwhile behind and under the house it flooded. So much water has already come down that the little dykes that normally hold it back are saturated.
This swamp originates above us, where the acequia is constantly overflowing as the acequero, the person assigned to control the waterflow, allows it to fill to the brim, to have an abundance of water also down in the valley.
"The secret of happiness, you see, is not in seeking more, but in developing the ability to enjoy less" - Socrates
Right now, there is a freshly dug network of small channels across the property, to drain the water to the small river down by the fields. As I always like to see the mirror in things around me, as on the outside, as on the inside, I see this situation reflected in myself.
This year I had to let go of the fear of not having a steady money flow, in order to have more of what I wanted: being HERE.
It is all too often said that standing still is going backwards. But is it? And what are actually the consequences of this constant wanting to move forward, the urge to have more on myself, the environment and the well-being of others?
Over a well-earned glass of iced tea, I realise that I have largely managed to overcome the fear of loss. I live small, I live with less, but most importantly.... I LIVE. But then, what was the trick?
Over the past three years, I have learned to trust nature. On her rhythm, her unconditional love and her ability to constantly provide me with what I need. Her power, after a seemingly dead winter, to resurrect with full commitment in spring.
"Trust nature - she knows best." - Irina Ratushinskaya
By appreciating what I already have, trusting in the good in my surroundings and experiencing that I get what I need, that fear got less of a grip on me.
The trick was simply to trust.
Trusting that downtime is a respite, an Intermediate Time, that it makes you richer above all, not poorer. But you have to experience that a few times before you know for sure.
To explain more about how I got to trust life, because it of course isn’t something like a button you can push, I will republish a series of posts I wrote in Dutch a couple of years back about trust. So stay tuned to find out more about the road I had to take.
Love,
Daphne
In the meantime, tell me, when exactly has a moment of standing still been wealth for you?