"A love story in the third language" by Hanne Moeller

A Love Story in the Third Language

"Is it a good time for me to do this journey, and is it safe?" I asked Adrian on the phone. For some time I had been heading out of my hermit cave. My husband had died 7 years earlier, and I had been working my way through the valley of death ever since. Now I felt there was something beckoning at the end of the tunnel. A different light, a new sound, more colors, a richer taste, new landscapes. I had a sabbatical from my work as a radio journalist in Denmark and I had plans. Traveling plans. But I was also a little afraid.
That is why I called Adrian Ross Duncan, a wise astrologer from Wales who lives mostly in Denmark. I told him that I was planning to go to New Mexico in the United States for a month. I wanted to see the landscapes of Georgia O'Keeffe around Santa Fe and do recordings for a radio program about O'Keeffe, her paintings, and why she chose to live in the high desert the second half of her life.
"Is it a good time to do this journey?" I asked Adrian, "and is it safe to go alone?" Adrian is a very laid back type of guy. He was quiet for some time. "Well", he answered after looking around at the signs from the universe, "you are not going to die". Good news! He said that everything looked fantastic for my journey. It would be a mind opening experience raising me to a new level of conscience, and that kind of journey would always be lonely in a way. "But you are going to meet someone", Adrian then said to me, even though I hadn't asked him that question. He wished me a good journey and we hung up.
And there I was - in Santa Fe, New Mexico. On my first day I was walking around the old square La Plaza in the heart of Santa Fe. I immediately fell in love with 'the city different'. Amazingly there were flowers and plants everywhere. I thought I had come to a desert town and it looked like a green house.
At a corner I saw two people sitting and talking at a small round cafe table under an arcade. What a wonderful place to meet, I thought. If I knew anyone in Santa Fe I would love to sit under that arcade and talk.
For several weeks I then traveled through O’Keeffe country and now I was back in Santa Fe. It was my last day before flying back to Denmark. I was making my final round saying goodbye to my favorite places.
My parking meter was running out and I thought I was heading straight for my rental car. But then I came by a small gallery at the corner of the Plaza where I saw some special, very personal jewelry. Suddenly I remembered my unfinished business with the snake. I had been looking for snake earrings at several places, but they were all too big. When you produce radio with head phones all day, you don’t want a big snake rattling in your ear.
I went into the gallery looking for this old symbol of transformation. A man came up to me, and with great power he started asking me where I came from and what I was doing in Santa Fe.
“Let’s go and have an ice tea”’ he said as a matter of fact. Not a question really. Much to my surprise I heard myself answering yes.
He said we could sit at that small round table with the two chairs under the arcade - the very same corner I had spotted on my first day in Santa Fe. Life is magic.
Besides being a jeweler Ross turned out to be a shamanic healer, a painter and photographer. Presently he was working on a book with animal paintings called “Alphabetish”.
I told him I was a presenter on a literature program called “Alfabet”!
His father’s family was from Wales. I immediately thought of Adrian, the astrologer from Wales, whose middle name is Ross and who several times told me: “You are going to meet someone”.
“Give me a hug” Ross said when we parted. I got the best hug ever in return. Like coming home. He immediately found a spot near my waist that made me laugh because I am rather ticklish. Like he had an instinctive knowledge of my body, possibly from a meeting in an earlier life.
When I left, I sent him an aerial kiss and said: “Maybe we will meet again”. That came out of the blue. Sometimes 45 minutes just pass by. A few times in your life they can be loaded with meaning and future.
The language of synchronicity - ‘the third language’ Ross called it - just kept evolving around our meeting. The language of manifesting as opposed to calculating, the language of the dream time as opposed to the time of the clock, following the path of the soul more than walking in the middle of the road already there.
Ross and I became transatlantic lovers. There is no receipt for this kind of living. You have to invent it. But as the old Chinese saying goes: The road will come into existence, as you walk.
Hanne Moeller
http://transatlanticjournalism.com/