Eyjadalur

Kjós, Iceland

See location here: Coordinates 64°17'31.6"N 21°32'03.0"W

 

Útesita

I feel warmth in the middle of my body, spreading from there. I see the inner fire in the earth‘s core, giving warmth and the endless embracing mother energy. I feel her move me with wind and earth. I saw a face in the clouds singing.

I give you warmth – give warmth to others
I move you – move others
I give you songs – sing

It was windy when I came here around 11 pm and after connecting to this spot I decided to go for a walk further into the valley to keep warm, listen and meet. First I met lóa (golden plover). I heard her, listened to where her voice was coming from and said hello. I stopped and felt her voice, looking at the sound. Then I saw her, but I could see through her, she was almost invisible with the cliff on the other side of the river in the background. I saw her, but at the same time I didn‘t see her. She told me that nature likes to hide, but at the same time not. She want‘s to be seen, but to be able to see her we need to listen and greet her with full attention, and her sound guides us to listen. After a little more walking I decided to lie down when I came to a low in the track following one of the many little streams running downhill towards the river. In this low there was all of a sudden no wind, no sound, only stillness and silence. A break from the wind.

Then I kept on walking and next I met a stone, lichens, mushroom, moss, grass, sticks, butterfly, ant and undoubtedly many others. But the first thing that I saw was the white lichen that decorated the stone and I wanted to paint a picture of her. Then I saw the butterfly that I first thought was a patch of the stone not covered by lichen, and then I saw the message – all these species live and work together, become one whole. They are co-creating each other. 

And now the clouds are pink because the sun is already back without ever leaving and I forgot to tell you that when I had just arrived here three straumönd (harlequin ducks) flew over and to the other side of the river, and then two seagulls flew past right after. They were all going somewhere. 

But then I kept on walking and heard another bird, steindepill  (northern wheatear), who guided me down towards the river again. When I came to a tiny little waterfall in the stream that I was following down to the river, I sat down to sense if and how I should go down from there all the way to the riverbank. As I was sitting there in the dim light all of a sudden a pair of harlequin ducks came flying and sat down on a rock on the other side of the little stream, just a few meters away from me.

The duck that had a more varied pattern (the male) was looking at me and started to do a forward movement with its neck and I felt myself spontaneously starting to mimic its movement with my neck. It felt good to mirror or mimic the duck, we communicated somehow through the movement, a communicating of acknowledging each other and giving attention to each other. The pair welcomed me and then guided me down to the river; where they were sitting pointed me to where it was best to go down from the little waterfall in the stream, down to the riverbank.

When I stood up and moved from being above the little waterfall down to a place where the waterfall was behind me, I all of a sudden got very startled when I sensed its quick movement behind me. I turned quickly around, I saw it and sensed that it wanted me to give it attention, and said, „yes, you!“ and sat down to listen to it. It really loves throwing itself lightly down the small gorge, but then it showed me that it is twofold; at the back there is a waterflow that flows with such a stable and consistently steady flow, but the water that flows in front likes to hopp endlessly down in this light and speedy way, showing me how it flows endlessly in different rythms. 

Then I continued to walk by the river and then I met the harlequin pair again, sitting on the riverbank. They said hello in a friendly way and I sang for them a river prayer, since we share our love of the river. Then I walked on along the river and I met many stones and cliffs on the way, some of them had been underwater for a long time and very much enjoyed being constantly embraced by the waterflow, but they also liked being able to take a peak out of the river for a while, which the dryness of the last weeks was allowing them to do. 

The river told me to go up the hill again, to follow the next small stream flowing into the river to go up and find  the track again. On my way there I decided to lie down for a while. There was such softness and silence where I was lying, the wind had gone, it was totally still and the moss and grass were soft and warm. As I was lying there I started meditating on peace, healing and balance for all. That is what nature does, she always searches for peace, healing and balance – even when she is erupting and shaking, she is doing that in order to then find peace and balance and healing. 


„Dropinn holar steininn“ I was listening to the stones here that were singing for me and with me and the river earlier. They broke into two – the river – the water did that. Dropinn holar steininn – this saying came to my mind again now as it did when I saw the stone in the track I was walking on before, it had a tiny hole in it that my little finger fit exactly into. We are drops that all come together to create this force and power that can brake stones and metals. We freeze and melt and flow and let go and the drops create a hole in the stone.

Another thing that came to my mind this night: time is so relative in nature – it seeks peace, balance and healing in the long term. We are only a fraction of that time. „Þú átt heima hér“. This is your home, you belong here. That is what the harlequin duck said when I told them I was just visiting, to let them know I didn‘t want to disturb them. 

The full moon told me that what is inner comes out, full of life, heat, movement and energy. The butterfly on the stone told me to find stillness, being still, totally still, dwell and be and sense, listen in the stillness. To dwell and integrate – nothing else to do, just be still, dwell, listen, integrate.

Guðbjörg Rannveig Jóhannesdóttir (IS), Kjós

Philosopher

www.lhi.is/en/person/gudbjorg-r-johannesdottir