Spiritual lessons often come in unusual situations…
Strange to think that a lowly starter-motor could provide such an enlightening opportunity!
By now I should have been well north of Glada Hudik, or happy Hudiksvall as it is known in Sweden. However, a tapestry of events sees me remain in a state of pine-scented bliss at the Borka Sailing Club, infused in the tranquillity of the present moment among the forests. Here are evenings where darkness is but a memory and the silence a balm for my weary mind, interrupted only by the sigh of a gentle breeze and the lullaby of almost imperceptible motion at the gateway to my dreams; I could stay here forever.
Last night I sat in quiet meditation watching the moon rising above the forest while my breath anchored me in perfect presence. The whole of time seemed to stop and it felt as if there was no longer a ‘me’. None of this would have been possible if my starter-motor hadn’t taken so long to repair; in fact, that chapter remains incomplete, time opening into the void: no longing, no grasping, no anger, no impatience…
It is what it is, and that’s good enough for this sailor.
The saga began with me extracting ‘Sally’ (let’s call it Sally starter-motor, to shorten the missive) and handing it over to Tommy, who then gave it to Peter a local mechanic, who knew someone called Kurt in the village. The plot thickens and this is still only Act one! Kurt attempted to open Sally up and test her by fitting her into his car by running up to Hudiksvall. The following week he returned to Borka and handed Sally back to Tommy, who passed her to me like a strange cosmic rugby game. I carefully reinstalled the poor old lady, turned on the ignition and…
Oh dear, not good.
And so begins Act Two in this Norse Comic tragedy, involving a phone call to Micke, who comes up with the idea of contacting Anders, a local mechanic/inventor; a whiz with all types of machinery. Maybe he possesses the elixir of life that will awaken Sally from her long slumber?
That evening at nearly eleven o’clock, while I was reading on deck (I know, it sounds crazy but that’s Scandinavia in summer for you) a jolly chap walked along the jetty and entered, stage right. Yes… it was Anders.
This lovely man joined me in testing Sally again and confirmed that my diagnostic testing was correct, kindly admitting that I was quite a good mechanic, something very few men have ever commended me with. Anders then removed Sally again and suggested taking her away to Hudiksvall to find… (fanfare)
He is an old German gentleman, revered for his almost god-like qualities in all things diesel, as his name implies. His specialities are fuel pumps and starter-motors. Rumour had it that he was dead, but according to Anders, he is very much alive, but hard to find. Could this be a possible duel resurrection, Otto and Sally coming back to life?
And so ends Act Two.
Time twists and weaves around me but I remain firmly anchored in the present what is. There is a powerful spiritual message in all of this, despite the light-hearted nature of my account. So often our lives are blighted with stress from the pressure of time, and yet if one takes a moment to breathe and return to the now, maybe closer examination will reveal a place untouched by the past or the future.
The Saga has reached an interesting stage. What is the Viking Queen’s part in this metaphysical dance, this Lila, if you will? The only real choice she has is her reaction to what is. Will she grasp at the future, kicking up a storm to try and resolve the problem, or just cultivate patience, allowing the actors on this stage the chance to complete their parts? Maybe this is spirit’s way to gently heal her path and teach true surrender; to cease the eternal battle against the environment she graces?
So many questions…
With the Northern climax of my saga so near, it would indeed appear to be a great disappointment to finish here, but the inner Camino has taught her lessons about the true path and what it means to be complete. She has to lean back into the great Cosmic Unknown and trust in the Holy Spirit.
‘And a great peace descended upon the eternal warrior,
her axe no longer cutting a swathe.
This need to prove her worthy,
now in Valhalla laid.’