My Base Camp

Wake-up feel: 6.

Frogs at 03:52 — then the cuckoo, then the others. Earlier this morning. Earlier, it turned out, than the fisherman.

The Bodden was rough. Warm westerly, small white caps. No engine — either the fisherman was not out, or the Bodden had made its decision. Only the water itself: not the sound of water but something closer to the rustling of leaves. The path between the Bodden and the greening reed fields to the left, the rapeseed and the rising sun to the right.

Twelve ducks rose from the edge of the rapeseed field, flew an arc over the path, along the shore — southwards. A cargo plane crossed high overhead, Copenhagen to Dammam, too distant to hear. Dammam: the oil coast, Saudi Arabia. At the turning point: four geese, southwards. Yesterday the crow. Today the geese.

A lone grey heron lifted from the Bodden and passed directly over me, nearly silent — southwards. The Wends, who held this coast for centuries before the colonization, did not walk past this bird at the water's edge. The keeper of the waters, moving. On a departure morning, you notice what the place sends.

Moon crossed into Virgo at 05h — in the dark, before the path. Root day. Not what moves. What holds.

My base camp: The garden. The tent. The ordinary Tuesday. Müllrose.

Honest Pathway One. What I notice when I hold it against what I know I need.

Physiological. The body knows this ground — differently than Nisdorf. Not sixty days familiar, but known. The garden, the tent, the paths. Movement is not a question here. My body hesitates.

Safety and stability. The familiar is not the same as the stable. Müllrose is known — and known includes what the place carries, what happened there, what is still unresolved in it. Physical safety: yes. The question of stability goes deeper than safety. A place can be known and unsettled simultaneously. That is the honest condition of this pathway.

Love and attachment. Returning, not arriving. Müllrose is not a new place — it is a place that holds what happened there. This is the weight of Müllrose. Julika. Mattheo. Sini. The fire on Tuesday. The ordinary Tuesday — not built FOR them, but WITH them. Presence, not performance. And: the lock is on the bridge. It was placed before any of this was decided. Both truths are present in this place at the same time. The dignity question sits here too: is returning for the fire fathering — or a beautiful visit? There is a difference between the two, and the children know it, even when they cannot name it.

Truth. The need to know and understand the world accurately — including whether what I believe has changed has actually changed. The constellation work named it plainly: I may not heal in the same place where the wound occurred. The lock names the love. Both are true. But the cognitive need this pathway presses on is harder: am I seeing Müllrose as it is now — as I am now — or am I telling myself what I need to hear in order to return? The FOR/WITH correction is not a thought. It is a practice. Truth asks whether the practice is genuinely in place or still in formation. The children will know. The place will show.

Self-esteem and efficacy. The garden as ground for efficacy — building WITH the children, being present rather than building FOR. But efficacy in Müllrose is not given by proximity. It requires the structural change to be genuine, not intended. The place will show which one arrives.

Alignment. Who arrives in Müllrose on May 25 is not who left. The pilgrimage has been changing the interior. Alignment asks: does returning express who I am becoming, or who I was? The place holds both versions. Only what I actually do there will answer the question.

Connection. Julika — born on Easter, the Paschal full moon. She is the compass. The connection to something larger in Müllrose is tied to people more than to place. If the people carry it, they can be met anywhere. If the place itself carries something that cannot be met elsewhere — that is a different claim, and I hold it carefully.

Seven places were on the table. Now three. What I am naming is what I need from wherever I land. Not only mine. The needs of those I love belong in this too.

The children will be at the fire. I will be there. The rest is still being formed.

Day 60 — Phase 9 — My Base Camp — Pericardium — Amethyst — Psalm 46 + Gospel of John
Gut Nisdorf, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Baltic Coast
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