I’m visiting my friends Lydia, Luc, Lore, Baziel and hopefully others.  Yesterday afternoon we three older folks drove to the Harmonie restaurant in Ronse for a drink and snacks.

O la la!  The tile murals.  The wooden floors.  And unlike this photo from the Internet, a room full of locals celebrating Friday.

Light flooded in from the town square.  Light flooded out from face to face.  And our server was willing to play.  She found out that my Dutch was negligible … and connected with me anyway.  I asked her to say something to me – either loving or insulting.  I wouldn’t know the difference.

Initially she demurred.  (Hmm … that’s quite a strange word.  This phone of mine says that to demur is to “to show reluctance or to hesitate”.  I like words.)

But then she said a few words with a smile, and walked away.  Later Lydia said that she had called me “crazy”, which I’m happy to take as a compliment.

An hour later, as we were leaving, I asked the woman to say something positive or negative loudly.  Again a smile, and a fear of what people sitting nearby would think of her if she blurted out the truth.

Hmm again.  To blurt: “to say something suddenly, impulsively or unthinkingly”.  Sounds like fun!

***

When I moved to Belgium three years ago, I fell in love with a beer called Westmalle Tripel, which clocks in at an alcohol percentage of 9.5.  The love affair was short-lived.  It started giving me nausea which glowed through the nighttime hours.  So I had resigned myself to the absence of Westmalle.

Hmm times three.  Resigned: “having a calm, submissive acceptance of an unpleasant situation that cannot be changed”.  Yuck.

Then along came yesterday’s drink menu: “Westmalle Extra, 4.8%”.  Voilà:

And so … Belgian beer still lives in my soul

***

Another harmony presented itself at the pub.  Kids and dogs are welcome.  Sitting near us was a young girl playing with her doll and grooving to the music, likely knowing nothing about Westmalle Extra.  And across the way sprawled a big white dog, staying close to its human friend.  The young, the animal – all welcome.

***

Vakantie voor mij

(My vacation)

I am blessed to have fine friends.  One of them is Prabigya.  She has invited me to come to her wedding in Nepal in February next year.  I’m going.  It will be a three-day celebration of her union with Prashant.

At Christmas, Prabigya gave me a card, and a Nepali fridge magnet showing mysterious eyes … haunting eyes.

Last week she told me where the eyes come from – the Swayambhunath Temple.

Also known as the Monkey Temple.  It is one of the most famous and sacred Buddhist sites in Kathmandu, Nepal.  It sits on top of a hill and offers a beautiful view of the Kathmandu Valley.  The temple is very old, more than 2,000 years, and is an important place for both Buddhists and Hindus.

Prabigya is getting married in Kathmandu.  I am a Buddhist.  I know that Swayambhunath and I will become friends.  Perhaps I’ll be allowed to meditate there.

The eyes are on each of the four walls, blessing the entire world.  I wrote a few days ago about my moments of 360° vision.  I sense that Swayambhunath will deepen this opening.

***

May all beings be truly seen

Included

Loved

This delightful human being works at Lloyd Coffee Eatery on the Langemunt in Gent.

Yes, the food is great, the vibe is wide open … but people make my life.

Aria is kind.  To me, to everyone.  A few weeks ago, we were struggling to learn each other’s name.  One day back then, we both got it.  I said “Two for two.”  A couple of days ago we greeted each other with our names.  She said “Two for two.”  Lovely.

I watch Aria with other customers.  Almost always she engages in conversation with them – a short one if she’s busy, but still … contact.  A genuine smile, a genuine interest.

Just now, I saw Aria apologize to a woman for some gap in service with respect to her child.  The words were real, and in the realm of “I’ll make it right next time.  I’ll remember you.”  The customer’s response was a smile … also genuine.  Aria defused the situation, not as a communication skill she’d learned, but as a natural expression of her.

When I see her in action, the word that shows up is power.  Not “power over” but rather as “power to influence”.

An expression comes to mind: “the most powerful person in the world”.  It usually refers to the President of the United States.  Someone who can cause other world leaders to turn into pleasers, someone who can order the bombing of another country.

That’s not Aria’s power.  She puts smiles on people’s faces.  She no doubt lifts the spirits of many who are feeling ground down by life.

A gift given

An expression of true power

Here they are … the top three of the men’s Ronde van Vlaanderen (left to right): Tadej Pogačar, Mathieu van der Poel and Remco Evenepoel.  Champions with champion smiles.

I’m proud of myself for doing what was needed to show up on the Taaienberg on Sunday.  Bus, train, bus, 45-minute walk.  And then the reverse in the evening.  All for a few seconds of the men blowing by me on the cobbles.  Sadly, I didn’t see the women on the climb.  Oh well.

I could have chosen the luxury of my couch, experiencing the flow of both races in real time.  A completely different experience.  And … I’m glad I had my moment with Tadej and Mathieu.

***

My return walk to the bus stop in Maarkedal featured leaden feet and labouring lungs, but I was on a mission.  I wanted pasta in Oudenaarde before heading home, and Colosseo on the Stationsstraat was happy to oblige.  Penne arrabbiata!  With a miraculous garlic tomato sauce (plus a Ename Blond beer).  If my tongue could talk, it would tell you a story.

Life was looking good for catching the 8:33 train from Oudenaarde to Gent – a half-hour trip.  Except it wasn’t.  About 85 minutes.  Officials stopped the train for awhile because there were too many people aboard.

For twenty minutes or so, I was standing with my folding chair and backpack, wedged against other cycling fans.  I was hoping that some young person would offer me their seat.  No one did.  Everyone looked enthralled with their friends.

Feeling a possible future of falling down, I decided to act:

I think I’m about to fall down.  Would one of you please offer me your seat?

A girl’s eyes opened wide.  She smiled and leapt up, gesturing to her chair.

Thank you

And so ensued probably a 40-minute conversation with five young people and one old one.  We talked about life.

I had questions for them.  Here’s one:

Having a beer with your friends seems really big in Belgium.  If someone you know doesn’t want to drink alcohol, does the group reject them in some way, maybe pressure them to join in?

The response?

Yes

***

It was a helluva day

I got to live it

In the company of others

On the right is my favourite cyclist – Puck Pieterse from The Netherlands.  She’s hugging Pauline Ferrand-Prevot from France.  They just finished sprinting for second place in the Ronde van Vlaanderen.  Pauline won the battle.  For me, the picture says what competition should be.

I’d like to say I watched this moment live.  But no.  In fact, I never saw Puck the whole race.  (Sigh)

I had a great spot on the Taaienberg to watch the men’s race …

The women were to come by an hour later.  But timing was everything.  There was to be a Zoom meeting at 5:00 pm in honour of Patricia Albere, the founder of the Evolutionary Collective.  She died a few days ago.  I wanted to be there.

A cycling website told me that the women would likely be climbing the Taaienberg sometime between 4:15 and 4:50, depending on their average speed.

I’d found a quiet park near the Taaienberg for the call.  My folding chair was slung over my shoulder.  I was praying for speed.

Alas, ’twas not to be.  The women hit the base of the Taaienberg at 4:55.  I had already logged in for the Zoom call.

Disappointed?  Yes.  Pleased with myself?  Also yes.  I had kept my word to me.  And to my dear friend Patricia.

***

There is so much more to say about my Ronde day.  But not now.  I can feel “The Ronde – Part Three” starting to bubble up from way down below.

I’m in De Carillon, an Oudenaarde café that sits in “two remaining 17th-century houses built on a former graveyard”.   My new friends here are enjoying their beer and coffee, getting ready for the biggest day in Belgium’s cycling calendar.

The Tour of Flanders has both a men’s and a women’s race.  The men have already started in Antwerp, on their 278-kilometre ride to Oudenaarde.

The women do a 164-kilometre loop away from and back to Oudenaarde, starting at 13:30.

At 11:30, I’ll be standing in front of the stage to see the twenty-two teams presented, and some of the famous riders interviewed.  So cool!

I thought I was plenty early this morning for the train from Gent to Oudenaarde.  The coach was beyond standing room only.  A young man kindly gave up his seat to a slightly older man.  And so I sat … and talked cycling to the fanatics across from me.  More cool.

The train company delayed our departure for a half hour or more, since there were too many people.  Many standers eventually volunteered to get off.  (Thank you!)  And we were off … in plenty of time for an Oudenaarde cappuccino.

***

Now it’s the next day.  I’m very tired.  Slept ten hours.

There is so much more to say about yesterday … wow’s all over the place.  But I don’t have much oomph to write.  So I’ll continue the journey tomorrow.

I’ll leave you with two photos:

The presentation before the women’s race – each team came to the stage.  Here’s Human Powered Health, with their leader Thalita de Jong waving to the crowd:

And now at the base of the Taaienberg, a half-kilometre cobbled climb with an average gradient of 6.8%, maximum 14.8% … here come the men!

Until tomorrow …

Many cello students of the Poel Music School had a concert this morning in a small blue chapel, with stained glass behind.

I forgot to take a photo, but this one from the Internet gives you a good idea:

One cellist at a time walks onstage, joined only by a pianist.  The small audience waits as the heart of the musician slowly rises up the throat.  My throat.

I did as I had asked myself to do … play with passion, no matter the sound.  (And the quality of the sound came and went)

My body swayed.  There were moments of being lost in the melody.  I believe I reached some in the audience.  And so I smile.

What thrilled me to bits was witnessing the flow of humanity stepping up … alone, naked.  Young, old, male and female, highly skilled and less so.  One young man played a fast piece brilliantly.  Afterwards I said that I was tempted to see him as a cello God, but I decided not to.  He was one member of a large cello family, we who cheer each other on.

Something else made me happy this morning.  I had brought a light for the music stand because the chapel lighting is pretty dim.  I knew immediately that I wanted all the players to use the lamp.  I knew it would be a contribution to many of them.  Voilà:

So my favourite memory was beyond the music.  Beyond the inspiring human performances.  Just simple kindness.  What a family deserves.

***

We were together

Applauding everyone

Feeling the glow

My friend died yesterday … my mentor, and an inspiration about what’s possible in life.

What’s true about Patricia Albere is that she leans into the future, with a vision of true human connection that will sweep the planet.

Patricia founded The Evolutionary Collective about fifteen years ago, after forty years of leading seminars and coaching individuals to be a sublime version of themselves.

She realized that enhancing the “me” is not our highest calling, that the “we” of deep contact with other human beings was beckoning her.

In the early years of this century, I was smitten with the work of Ken Wilber.  He has been described as “a visionary thinker of inspired genius, the developer of an integral ‘theory of everything’ that embraces the truths of all the world’s great spiritual, scientific and philosophical traditions.”  A very big life.

In December, 2017, Ken was hosting a conference in Colorado that brought together many of the world’s great thinkers.  I signed up to have the sessions beamed to my laptop.

I listened to really smart people from fields such as psychology, business, the arts, spirituality, etc.  After three days of this, I noticed a few things, such as all the speakers were men.  And then …

A woman came onstage.  I thought her name was Patricia Albert.  Never heard of her.

And so began my experience of someone who is different from all these “thought leaders”.  The “we” was unfolding before my eyes, outshining my efforts to be a better person.

Patricia has challenged me, from a space of love.  She has shown me an approach called “Mutual Awakening” that fosters an egoless unity showing up between two or more people.  A giving without being attached to a receiving.

***

Thank you, Patricia, dear one

You have opened my eyes … and my heart

Plus those of countless others

Yuh done good

I’ve never met anyone who has a comma in the middle of their name, and I still haven’t … but here comes Alfred, Lord Tennyson.  He was a British poet who died long before I showed up – 1892.

(No, I didn’t show up then.  That would make me very old.  Mom delivered me in 1949.)

Alfred wrote Ulysses – a classic.  Some of his lines speak to me over the years and miles …

Come, my friends
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are
One equal temper of heroic hearts
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

***

How about if we go there together, sailing beyond the sunset?  We can touch the Happy Isles.  With all the ebbs and flows of life …

Much abides

The expanse of yesterday is gone.  For much of the time, my vision had been radiating out from a centre – embracing all and everyone … 360 degrees.

Vividly emitting, projecting or exhibiting a strong quality, emotion or energy (like joy, confidence or warmth) that is clearly noticeable to others

I didn’t experience the “noticeable to others” part.  But the flow outwards was vivid.

When something or someone goes, I ask myself whether it will come back.  It’s unknown.  If I try to grab on, it’s like smoke slipping through my fingers … gone.

As the poster says (the one which graced my wall decades ago):

If you love something, set it free

If it comes back, it’s yours

If it doesn’t, it never was

I’m smiling now in the not knowing.  People, places, moments of brightness … float away.  Bye bye.  I would love you to come back.  And you may not.