at oddsII. The Fjords of Northern Norway
What mystery lives in these mountains?
What wisdom is frozen in the ice?
Here lies the history of the world.
Centuries of all-knowing.
A quiet, divine power resting peacefully in this frozen land
—
And it is waking . . .
It is melting . . .
What will become undone?
What will be revealed?
Day 4, April 7
The splashing of the waves against the boat.
The low creaks and moans of the vessel.
It has our trust.
It has our faith.
Despite its inability to even remotely stand against the Sea.
This ship—
humans—
we think we are invincible,
we think we can overtake,
power up,
bend You.
You, mighty Sea, the child of Mother Earth.
From up above the clouds on a mountain top,
I look down—
I get a glimpse of my utter insignificance compared to You.
This ship is a tiny speck of nothingness in the world.
White mountains speckled with brown trees surround me.
A few houses here and there painted red.
The water a deep blue—dark, full of depth.
The clouds blend with the mountain tops.
I am trying to simply listen.
To give myself over to this Land.
What can I learn from it?
How can I be a vessel for its stories?
It has begun.
The trek across the Arctic.
There is a heaviness, a weight.
Is it a projection?
Or is it real?
I feel the weight of the last several years. Losing my mother, the car accident, the brain injuries, my loved ones’ depression, my family’s past, the pandemic. Even though I am thousands of miles away in the wilderness, I can’t run from them. They follow me, live in me. And this place— this Land—and Its painful, striking beauty somehow absorbs all my pain. It holds the pain within its frozen rocks and icy floor and snow-covered Earth.
The waves splashing against our ship.
The mountains in the distance.
Sounds of creaks and moans coming from the boat.
Gurgles coming from the Sea.
I wonder how it came to be that I should be here.
How did I find my way here to this spot,
seeing these views,
hearing these sounds?
This is a struggle I wasn’t prepared for.
My body has been through so much—
broken neck, broken skull—
I’m so sorry to put you through something else.
And my soul—
my soul is trying to remain present with the Land.
My soul is trying to listen.
Body and soul are at odds.
How can I care for both?
How can I be present for both?
I wonder —
Are the mountains friends?
Do they speak to one another?
What do they say?
Do they know their other inhabitants?
Do the mountains speak to the trees?
To the ocean?
To the rivers?
To me?
Day 5, April 8
I’m in a giant bathtub, being shaken about every which way.
My brain going one direction my stomach the other.
Day 6, April 9
The grey sadness colored the Land and Sea.
I jumped in the Arctic Ocean. Only for a few seconds.
I found abandoned fish eggs on an abandoned island.
I collected trash from which I will make something. How can our waste be found even in the most remote places?
Still there are signs that humans dominate. Still there are signs that humans destroy.
Other life is emerging.
As we get more remote, animals are showing themselves more often.
They are curious—
They haven’t learned what monsters humans can be.
Is trash replacing life?
Our trash will be our legacy.
Day 7, April 10
Clouds floating by
for a moment, a blue sky.
Beyond the mountain top,
There,
is Divine.
In an instant
—a blink—
the clouds return,
shrouding the skies.
But now I know
what is beyond.
It is—
Trees growing on rocky cliffs high above.
Snow falling down the steep slopes.
Wind piercing through the Arctic cold.
I am alive here amidst this Land.
And there is no doubt this Land is also alive.
I wonder what she thinks of me,
being here in her space?
I come with sorrows and struggles of my own.
Her presence somehow absorbs it all.
This Land is bigger than my human mind.
It is hard to grasp—this place.
Day 8, April 11
Day 9, April 12
The ocean is breathing.
My breath is in sync.
I get lost in your motion,
your body,
your Being.
Is there another such force
that is so generous,
so powerful,
so embodied,
so eternal?
As I stare into your depths
I cannot find the words—
only feelings,
sensations,
divine.
Even in my frail state
the wildness of Her still astounds.
Perhaps in my nakedness,
I can only appreciate Her wonder.
Tonight is our last night on land for the next three days—
I said hello to the ocean.
I asked her for kind treatment.
I marveled at her enormity.
I fell asleep dreaming of her.
She woke me with a jolt. Her power flung me from side to side. she wanted me to hold my breath. She wanted me to dive into her essence.
CONTINUE TO PART III