By Rune Belsvik

A bottom hatch opens and something rushes out, sprinkles down, disappears, and I wonder what I should do with it, something is waiting for me to find a solution to this leak, this outburst, all this that just disappears at great speed now, and I think that I just have to let it happen, because my task is to think the sound, so I repeat the sound,  don’t I, yes, there it is, he thinks, and is attentive to it, do’nt be so focused and determined, let go a little, let go, then it will be gone, or at least almost gone, I think, but I’m not going to start a major problem-solving now, rather stay with what is, whatever it is, yes, all this feels a bit waisted,  without significance or meaning and something in me will start again, have a second chance, make it better, but my experience tells me that it is precisely this that is here now, a feeling that it is destroyed and that it must go away, this feeling must be allowed to run wild as it wants, I don’t need to control it, watch out for it, no, my job here is to think the meditation sound, yes, yes, that’s what I’m going to do, but not too eager, either, not clinging to the sound, and suddenly I’m out of something I’ve been deep into, yes, it feels like I’ve just slipped out of something that was important to me for a long time, but what it was, I don’t know, there might have been something about a lady in a bright coat, no, no, something bright, or, no, no, the sound, yes the sound, but what was it, and why should it be hidden from me, and now this work here, what kind of work is this, to put a black leather vest over a black car, yes, the vest is the roof of the car, and it has to be done well, but I mustn’t forget to call my friend afterwards, he struggles so much, has suddenly become so restless he can’t sleep, can hardly breathe, yes, that’s what he said, it feels like I can’t breathe, either, are you afraid you’re going to die, I said, and he said it was unpleasant and even creepy, poor thing, I mustn’t forget to call him, we are friends, but isn’t the sound far away, just a distant rumble that doesn’t concern me, I must think about the sound and be attentive to it in a careful way, and now the time is almost up, and there is a lot of tasks waiting to be done, poor me, but during Easter or in the summer I hope it will be possible for me to go to a retreat again, get more time, be able to sit like this for days, and then the difficult but important talk in the group afterwards, so that my personality doesn’t rust, that I don’t get stuck in my own zeal, but that I may swing a little, yes, that something tiny is rocking here.

Language editor: Anne Grete Hersoug