I AMSTERDAMED Pt.1 On Canals

One of the biggest realizations I’ve had after my short trip to Amsterdam was that the world could either be a safe place to be in, or the worst nightmare come true – depending on your vibrational level: high or low. I have come to realize that the people around us are like dogs, they can sniff your fear just as they can sense your inner power. Ultimately, your energetic frequency will determine if they’ll attack or leave you alone.

 

The same goes for illnesses and viruses (take Coronavirus for example and the way it attacks  – feeding off low emotional frequencies whilst having no power over the higher frequencies which remain unshaken because of their high vibration. So instead of taking medicine and living in constant fear of death, why not just raise our vibrations for a change? Just to see how it goes.

But I digress.

A million things could have gone wrong on my trip; a few of which could have gone really wrong due to my lack of acknowledging what could have gone really wrong (does that even make sense?) and both an enduring and annoying child’s naïveté that’s kinda been stuck to me for as long as I can remember – thank God for that! I know, I know, the fact that nothing went wrong might just have been stupid luck, an accident, a coincidence or anything in that area, really. Call me stubborn, but  after having thrown myself head first in this crazy ride that was Amsterdam with no safety net whatsoever, I can easily say that the world is a beautiful, wondrous, sheltered place to find yourself in. I promise.

 

 

Coming here, I was perhaps looking to feel some form of nostalgia for that time twenty seven years ago when my parents’s friends (I was six then) took us all on a short road trip from Bruxelles to Bruges, Ostende, Amsterdam and some little town in Germany – forgot the name – and I had my first encounter with the idea of western civilization (any civilization, really – I was coming from a formerly communist country with communist mentalities still lingering and being transmitted from generation to generation – what am I saying here? I was six, for God’s sake, I was in deep awe of the canals and the small boats and unusual buildings and sweets, so many sweets wrapped in beautiful, shiny packages! what did I know about anything?) Just like Body, our friends’ dog, I was just happy to be there, turning my head around to catch glimpses of everything, because everything was completely new to me.

But there wasn’t any nostalgia left in me. I was just enjoying this little town as if it was my first time there because, in almost every way, it really was.

 

 

By the time the trip was over, I almost had a daily routine, very bohemian, where I would wake up in my Couchsurfing host’s home – a cozy little place in Geuzenveld – and take the tram 13 straight to the other side of town, where all the fun was, get off near a coquettish coffee place facing one of the canals, get myself one of the best lattes I’ve ever had – large sized, of course – than mosey around and lose myself into the Old Town, traverse from one neighbourhood to another, take a boat or find a secluded place – preferably romantic (because this trip was ultimately intended for self-wooing) and sit there, near the water, smoking, writing, thinking about life, listening to music, sometimes taking a small quantity of ‘shrooms (that would still take me on a long and fascinating journey I’d journal until the moment my fingers would fall deep into the keys and my phone would start to change shapes and I’d feel an uncontrollable urge to close my eyes and fall inside myself and the writing would stop for some time).

Green Eyed Kisses,