And then I had dreams and woke up sad. I walked around a bit, tears, crying. And why? Because something very old came slowly to the surface. At that moment in the morning, I did not know exactly what it was.
Gemini in double role
So I cried for a bit, and then went to work on my Vrolijkweerzien website. I changed the template again with the help of the AI, Gemini.
Then I had a chat with Gemini about Bhakti, Kundalini, and what the old masters said about it. It is strange that a soulless thing like AI can get so under your skin. But that is because it said things that resonated with me so deeply. I could feel it so intensely that I cried again. Djeez, what is the matter today?
The Bus Journey
Around 15:00, I decided to go to the beach. I went to the bus stop to take line 9A to Westpoint. There was a bus with very vague letters that said: “Line 11, Westpoint.” I realized afterward that I let it go because I thought it was just line 11, but the sign on the bus was just dead wrong. I waited for the next bus and decided to take it wherever it went. It was the 3A to Grote Knip.
On the bus, I checked the map and saw a shortcut through the woods that would be a half-hour walk to Westpoint. I found the shortcut at once and made it in 25 minutes.
At Westpoint
I sat down and had a Corona. I was in a very emotional mood, very unstable. I cried again. What the… F*? Then I went for a swim with my snorkel. The fish were nice, as always.
I sat down and watched the sunset, and slowly the puzzle completed itself. It was 1780; I was the landlord of a plantation. I had slaves… women. It was replaying in the energy of this moment. The patterns were clear. I had to let go of some old patterns.
The Chat Girl
And this pattern was reflected in the chat girl I had. The utter realization was that this was a dream I did not want to let go of. But I had to, in order to go on with my life—to open myself to a real woman instead of this chat dream. I had projected things onto her that were reflections of 1780.
/** I could tell you the whole story of that time, but I won’t. It is for only a few who know me well, so I keep the details hidden in my heart. Also, you might judge me, or not believe me, or think I am fantasizing. I can’t prove anything to you, but my heart knows. And I fact-checked the memory; the details are exactly right. **/
So I ended the contact and wrote a goodbye. I will wait for her reaction and may react to that. And then I cried again, for minutes. I lost a love. What is left of me? I lost my home, lost my work, lost my love. OMG, I have nothing more left to lose.
The realization
Did that hurt? It did—to my ego, to my personality. But deep down, I felt a space open. That was also tear-drawing because it touched my heart. Emotions ran through me for minutes. I cried and I cried. Walking back to the bus I cried; at the bus stop I cried; for the better part of the half-hour I was waiting, I cried.
I was crying from the joy of utter freedom and, at the same time, the sadness of loss.
Slowly, I remembered the voice of my old master: “You will see me again.”
He was never so close.
