In a densely overgrown forest I spot a hermit. His outworn green coat, his frayed hat and his long grey beard tell me that in a way he doesn’t belong to this world and that he does not want to be seen or watched. So, I am as quiet and motionless as he is to continue watching him.
He could even be dead, if he wasn’t sitting on a stool, holding a fishing rod. From under and behind his stool emerge animals: first a rabbit hopping and disappearing in the forest, short while later a red-haired mature cat running into the forest and then only the faces of baby cats pop out every now and then. They stay with him, not vanishing.
I wonder how many more animals might be with him. While I am watching him like he watches the ponds, aspects of my life stroll through my mind and a sentence emerges “As long as you let mysteries be mysteries you are in.” In? Integrated? It felt like “Everything will be fine.”
It was a long dream. Forest often appears in my dreams. Forest standing for natural harmony, diversity, the hidden and secret, the mysteries deep within? The forest of life with its many aspects?
In being quiet and doing nothing, aspects of life come to the forefront, can be seen for a short while. Not explained, only visible.
Somehow the hermit could also be me. I don’t want to be watched. Visible, yes, but not watched to be categorised and assessed. I’m part of the forest, nothing more, nothing less.
The Wonder Called Me 