I was leading
a workshop in Brazil. The night before the group, it started
to rain. It was pouring down, non-stop; I felt like the sky
was breaking. There was an atmoshpere of thunder and never
ending rain falling down. I felt deeply sad.
Once
we started the group, the sun came out and was bringing lightness
into the air. The love began to flow between the people.
Smiles and happiness,
sounds of laughter and lightness. Colours
were shining bright. A warm glow in my heart.
At the end of the group, I spent a day
alone on the ranch, in pure nature. That is when I painted
this mandala.
A week later my mother died. She had broken down and could not stand
up anymore, and had to be brought to the hospital. That was
on the night when it rained so much. It felt like it was
her tears that had fallen from the sky. I felt so sorry,
and so sad.
A week later on
my return to Holland, my father called me to tell me that she is in
the hospital. I did not see her before she left her body.
But I saw her on her deathdbed: still,
present and determined , and so directed. I cried, and then
I laughed so much together with my sisters. She looked like
an Indian chief. All my respect for her... she was so strong.
In life she appeared much lighter and easier, more like a
butterfly.
I wrote her
this poem:
My
Mueti
She
was joyful.
She
could laugh and
my
heart got warm and wide.
She
was so sad,
she
was so down,
my
heart was heavy as stone.
I
never knew
If
there was sun or rain.
With
my mother you could never know.
Now
I only know one thing,
She
is not anymore.
I
would like to hear her laugh once more.
I
would like to breathe her smell.
And
gently lay myself in her arms,
and
the world would be one again.
Chandrika
4 June 2004 |
