Going downhill; going farther down, or follow your sign?

Sunday February 8^th 2009:  Yesterday morning Marianne went back home to Stockholm and I was out on the cliff path again, same path as before taking me back to town. The day before yesterday Marianne and I celebrated with a fancy dinner at one of the island’s best restaurants, a tradition we don’t want to miss for the world. The weather was horrible all day, but somehow that didn’t matter much. And to sum up the whole week with Marianne here, it has been yet another of our many best experiences. We don’t rank our best moments any more, we simply enjoy them as best whenever they happen. We don’t count them either, as we since long ago have passed that limit where that kind of math exists.

If yesterday’s walk in to town was sunny and pleasant, this walk today seemed to be a bit greyer. Some raindrops fell as I stepped out of the bus, but nothing much. Always after Marianne and I separate having had a good time together, I need to spend some time of my own. Some of that time I spend catching up on work, the rest I spend living. There is a difference though regarding before and after my transition. Before it was more about extending our moments together. Now I’m able to absorb it, but I do it with an insight that it hasn’t always been that way.

It’s strange walking the same cliff path over and over again, almost like life repeating itself. But there are those signs along the way that can make a difference. After having walked more than half the way I stopped up for a short while. Fairly high above on the path leading downwards, there was this small crossing that I have passed so many times before without taking any notice. Down there directions are pretty clearly engraved on a route stone you can’t miss. So when getting down there, you just follow the sign and off you go.

Standing there at the top of the path looking down at the crossing, for some reason now felt different. That bench there at the left crossing corner opposite the route stone, what was that for? I had never seen anyone sitting there before, like not being aware of its existence. At a crossing, the only thing that matters there is to pick a direction and then leave. You look for and observe signs, but you never really stay. That bench looked odd being placed there, but still inviting. I felt kind of silly when having climbed down the path, finding myself looking around in all directions checking out if someone was coming. Not a soul in sight and I couldn’t hear anyone approaching either. I sat down carefully on the bench right corner close to the route stone, like I didn’t know what to expect.

I had the route stone opposite me, slantingly to the right from where I sat and somehow I ended up looking at it all the time. After a bit nervous looking around to see if someone was coming, I found my eyes all the time returning to the stone again. Looking around I guess I was searching for a reason to stand up and leave,  but still not a soul in sight and not a sound of anyone approaching. Even the gentle wind that had followed me along the path this far felt distant. However, that route stone came closer and closer and became more and more present to me where I sat. In a way I felt uncomfortable, but it was not chilly or anything else that could explain this strange unrecognizable feeling and as the last breath of air blow away with the wind, my surrounding came to a stand still. It was me, that bench I was sitting on, the crossroad and that route stone. Everything else was like hiding behind the scene.

I looked at the stone and what was engraved in its surface. An arrow pointing out the direction was there and the name of the town I was heading to was all very visible and clear.  It seemed to be an old stone, maybe hundred years or so, but that’s not quite right. We humans have a strange way of putting age marks on things, like for instance this stone. It’s most likely dated by the engraving and not by the actual age of the stone. I looked at the engraving and I sensed there was something more behind. Now I could see it, but vaguely, there was something more engraved in this stone like coming out from behind. It was like we many times see in shops where the original price tag have a bunch of new tags over it, saying on sale and those kind of things and leaving just a tiny piece of the original tag sticking out from behind.

I tried to focus and somehow the shifting light coming down from the cloudy sky helped me and I could suddenly read three words lined up vertically.

“Life”

“Existence”

“Me”

That last word almost took my breath. This engraving was definitely very old, you could sense it by the style and it emerged almost like coming out from a shadow and there was no way to see it, other from that bench where I was sitting. What did it all mean? How come this stone? Why on earth using this stone as a route sign and why placing it here? And the bench, why placing a bench like this here? Was there a reason?

I could feel someone coming, but I wasn’t able to see anyone in any direction. I almost heard people talking and felt them passing by. I saw no one and obviously they couldn’t see me. I tried to concentrate. The crossing had three directions; however this old inscription provided no clues in which direction I should go, there were no arrows with this engraving. If all three words were for one direction or naming out different directions, I could not tell. Was I supposed to go back up the path or take the steps farther down to the right? Or should I take to the left, that same path I had used before taking me back to town? At least it had done so all those other days out walking the path, now I wasn’t so sure anymore.