Wednesday 3 December 2014

3rd eye

Saturday was wet. It started Friday afternoon and kept going. I took a rest day.

In the evening I went for a walk, just to get outside. Still raining, though not too heavy.

I found a church, open, went inside, sat for a while. Wandered back towards the albergue, dark, but well lit in the drizzle. Ahead, a car, about to reverse, caught my attention. Bang! I walked into a lampost. A second of shock more than pain. Reflected that focusing on what's right in front of you is a good idea.

Back at the albergue, looked in the mirror. It was a mess. An inverted T shaped wound, in the middle of my forehead, blood splattered over my face. Cleaned it up, made my supper, reflected about sudden baptism. Later recalled the story from the Tibetan Lama, who had his third eye opened surgically. The skin pulled back, bone drilled out, skin sewn up.

Patxi patched me up, gave me spare plasters for the road.

Now I have a neat scar to remind me to watch where I'm going. I quite like it.

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