Being a Visitor in This Life on This Planet

Dear friends,

Those who have been following me for a long time know how much I love to travel. Unattached, unburdened, light as a dancer, I wander across the globe — while taking in many sights and sounds, of many landscapes, cities, and all sorts of people. How I love to relate to all those eyes that cross mine, without having to explain myself to any of them.

When I travel, I feel like a visitor on this planet, a guest looking around with wonder, free to come and go, light as a dancer indeed.

And now I also have a home on this planet, a home to come back to. It’s not just a home, but an entire community and a retreat center. Tons of material, tangible, localised attachment, a burden big enough to crush the dancer. So, how can this be working? How can I keep remembering that I am a dancer-in-residence on this planet, unattached and unburdened, even if technically I own a lot of land and building?

I believe this is possible.

Remembering it

First, because the eyes I relate to at Amiglia, are the eyes of people who take care of Amiglia in very dedicated, practical and tangible ways. Especially Rian’s love and energy for Amiglia unburdens me more than I could ever have imagined. I don’t have to explain myself to her, she wants me to feel light as a dancer. She considers it my job to dance — and write, and meditate.

Another way to keep remembering I am a dancing visitor on this planet while I stay home at Amiglia, is by … remembering it. When I literally tell myself I am still that same visitor as I was a few weeks ago in Hong Kong, in Aotearoa, in Fiji, I feel wonder, a lightness lifting me up — a smile my lips. I’m not dazzled by ever-changing cities and landscapes, but moved by ever newly discovered details in the landscape, ever changing tones of light, small habits that unfold and get lost again, a weaving of deep connection with my community family.

What does it mean to be a visitor on this planet

What also makes me remember I am a visiting dancer is doing this research, exploring what it means to be a visitor on this planet, to live somewhere, to relate to people. I just love to explore.

And maybe that’s why Amiglia wanted to exist, why I was asked to initiate this community/retreat center: to make this research possible, for me, and for other people. I wonder if it is just because I like to be unattached and unburdened, that Amiglia’s energy is so light, the unfolding so smooth and moving.

This kind of research is at the heart of my work, as a writer and as a facilitator.

What I have been telling in this letter is particularly related to the focus of our week called Inhabiting. A week I will be facilitating with visual artist Mathilde van Beekhuizen, who, in her own way, is drawn to Amiglia and explores her relationship to the place as an ongoing project. I can’t tell you how happy I am to invite you for this week, where self-inquiry and artistic exploration meet.

There is room for two more people. Inquire if you want to join. For each of the other retreats I will be leading in April, there is one spot left.

Moving Language

Another line of research close to my heart is Moving Language. I’ll be giving a free online presentation about it next Wednesday evening. This is a reminder for those who already registered, and an invitation for those who still want to join. Register here.

Let’s all be dancers-in-residence on this planet.

Loving,
Zoë

Next
Next

Moving Language — we can learn from our ancestors