Click: Lyde Af Min Barndom

I am sitting with strangers in the sun. A woman is talking, and I’m not really listening until I catch “…the power we felt from the crystal,” and then I sit up a little straighter.

“We felt an intrinsic surge,” she says, and as the words float by – healing and ethereal being and lifespring – I feel the way I imagine people do when they hear a snatch of Russian on the subway

a whispered fragment of Tagalog
a grandmother scolding in Urdu

Like them, as the woman explains about colours that heighten the spiritual mood of the home, I am seven years old again.

Surrounded by longhaired men attached to guitars and women gazing serenely at the flowers under the portrait of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. The babble of eightfold path wisdom compassion four noble truths do you know where the soy sauce is – a language I learned and discarded such a long time ago.

I’ve never stepped foot in California again, and I never intend to. But as she talks – the lotus position, and did you know that in Sanskrit “lotus” is called padmasana – I close my eyes and feel, for a moment, hot sun filtered through the shadow of palm trees on my skin.

Musings and overheard conversations are posted every Monday and Wednesday on