A mere rope. While I was hanging there 100 m from the ground the time stopped. It was like I had stepped into the old world. Without men. Without technology. Without all the pressure and all the achievements we believe we so surely need. In this place, there was the beginning. The ending, nowhere to be seen. This sacred place is hidden away from development and society. It is a place of nature that just is and that does not care. That doesn’t even have to.
In the modern life nothing like this really exists. We are all too busy, living our lives and just keep going forward. Trying to live in the modern society where we keep pushing ourselves further and further, sometimes even without a thought. We live in a world with pressure. Either from our families, friends, a partner or even from ourselves. We are so used to having people around us all the time or being able to see them. Remember our old friend, the television. Which help our daily life go forward. Or at least, the time.
And in this life more or less all of us lives, it is quite hard to comprehend really what an amazing place this is. A hidden treasure, even more valuable than the Eiffeltower or any other creation of men. It really is the most beautiful, romantic, intriguing and poetic place I’ve ever been to. And in my mind, will ever visit. I am so sorry that all I have is memories from this place but what I do have is the power to tell others about it.
Mentally close your eyes, stop listening to the noises around you and concentrate on the sound of falling rain on leaves. Imagine it is all around you. Can you hear the sound of falling rain on leaves surrounding you? If not, try harder and think that you are sitting on a porch belonging to a house you know or have known. You are doing nothing except listening on the constant rain falling from the sky.
When you can hear the sound, concentrate on your hands. Your left hand in front of your stomach, resting on a piece of metal and the other holding a rope down at your bum. You don’t have to hold tight, just feel the rope. If you wanted to you could let go of the metal piece in your left hand, but hold it for now. Can you feel it? Can you feel the texture of the thin but strong rope in your right hand?
Good. And you can still hear the sound of falling rain? Brilliant. Keep those thoughts and then think of being in water. Try and stand upright and feel how weightless you are. You are bobbing up and down like a bait, not unlike from when you and your father or grandfather were fishing. Now stop bobbing and feel how you are just hanging free in midair. Your feet are loose, your toes point downward. They and you are far away from steady ground. You are safe, don’t you worry. Just think of the sound of rain, feel the rope in your hand and be excited about just hanging free. Being free.
Open your eyes. Look and see where you are. Getting a few rain drops on your face as you look up. You are in the lost world, hanging from a rope 100 m from the ground. All around you there are tall straight walls filled with green plants decorated by big leaves. Everything looks so pretty. Ancient. There is an old river that have formed this huge passage where you now are hanging. From the bottom you hear the water, still crashing after several million years. You try to look but cannot see the bottom. There is a thick mist underneath you. As you gaze up you see every rain drop falling, you can even see them in slow motion and study them in amazement. You have never before experienced anything like this. It’s so quiet apart from the soothing sounds from the rain falling on the leaves from all around and the stream underneath you.
A long time after you began descending, you cannot longer see the sky. It seems to you it’s the mist that have moved but in fact it is you. At this stage you can see the bottom, the stream which keeps digging and which will continue an eternity after you or me have passed away. Truth to be told, you don’t want to touch the ground again. Just being here, feeling so alive and pure, even free. What can be better than this?
by Ken
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