As if god did create this island by hand, every stone, every bush, every tree and every little flower seems to be set in place perfectly. As I cross the mountains of La Gomera, greeted by rainbows and full moons, storms and waves of turquoise, I wonder if this is even real. I feel like testing a virtual reality, as the birds fly above my head and fulfill the picture of a whole even more.
It has its challenges, this island that emerged from a volcano deep under the ocean millions of years ago. And yet, in the story told of life on earth, it is a young island, full of miracles and stories of its own.
Like the Guanches, the native tribes of the island, jumped down the cliffs of Fortaleza, the holy mountain, to escape from the spanish emperors they already had heard about, and what they were able to do to get what they wanted. Columbus. Again, striking to enlarge his forts.
It sounds like a sad story, scary and wise at the same time. As I watched the Fortaleza, I see faces emerge in the rocks, and I can’t otherwise, I have to close my eyes and connect to the spirits.
No wonder I am greeted by an elderly woman, as the Guanches have lived in a matriarchy. I wonder what was first, the second season of Westworld (it does indeed look like that manmade area here) or the dimension I find myself in, here. Who did inspire who? And does it really matter? Or does it only matter what this wise woman is sharing with me? About protecting their way of living? About switching realities as it comes?
There is no proof in that. But yet, I love to see and feel it this way. I love to connect with those places and people and other dimensions, as it helps to survive the pain of loosing the most precious tribes and wisdoms to war, and to be able to still ask the elders what we could do, what information we should share, how we can serve the planet we are living on. How we can transfer those informations from A to B.
Time to come back. Time to be present. Time to walk back to my car, and drive back that magic road that brought me here.
La Gomera. Phenomena. A natural phenomena.
Nowhere else you’ll find such a small place with so many climate zones. And new learnings, if eager to learn from nature.
As in: If you want to stay at the ocean, but change the spot, you’ll first have to go up and to the center, then down again. Up and to the center, then down again. And in the center, you’ll find one of the last three rainforests of laurel trees, serving you with their soft fluffy wisdom and magical fogs and clouds or sunlight streams breaking through, with all their ways to walk through.
Only then, if charged, you may go back to another emotional ride. Joy, strength, roughness and beauty you’ll find down there. And waves that look like the unicorns in the movie “The last unicorn” would storm out of them, anytime.
You can even see their hair waving in the wind.
There is a german saying, “Der Weg ist das Ziel”, as in “the way is the goal” or something similar. Here in La Gomera, the most beautiful thing is, as I found:
“You have to walk the way to see it”. This popped up in my mind as the mirror of our new time we find each other in at the moment. Step by step. You can watch the mountain laid out ahead of yours, but you will not see the way. Even not a few meters ahead of you.
But magically, with every step you make, the path appears in front of your feet. You just have to walk it. Not knowing what will come. But being blessed with what you’ll find around you.
I grew up in even lands. In western germany, you will barely even find a hill, as well as in Berlin.
But the most beautiful thing I learned here, is that you can truly reach for the sky. You can actually lift yourself up into the clouds, and touch them, feel them, or look down on them in awe. You can stand on the beach and decide to go on a hike, up up and up, and as you seem to fly above the ocean you also cross ways with the clouds. And you can even go higher, within less then an hour in human time.
For those who grew up in the mountains this must be so normal and common, that they maybe don’t even think about it anymore.
But if you would have asked me on one of those thousand times dancing on a festival and watching the fluffy skies, if you would’ve told me that I could just go up there and touch them, I might have thought that you need an airplane for this. Thus, this may be a reason why I imagined myself so often to be a pilot.
Whereas now, I can just walk up and up and up there,
One day, in one of those stunning barrancos with waterfalls, palms, rocks, flowers and pure nature, I met an 80 year old man who just came up to the mountain. He just climbed 800 meters. And when he greeted me, he happily thanked god that he is still able to do this.
And, somehow, again I’ve been reminded of the power of gratitude. As I am grateful to meet this man up there. And I am grateful for all the phenomenas around.
And I am grateful for the creative creator who put together this island.