So here I am. After living in a large house on the outskirts of Groningen for thirty years, I've moved to a small apartment in Amsterdam Buitenveldert. The main reason: I want to be a daily grandmother for my six grandchildren, aged between four and ten, who live in and around Amsterdam. I have left behind my thriving psychotherapy practice, my meditation groups, and all the friends who have become so dear to me over the years. And here I sit, alone in Amsterdam. I am seventy years old. What now?
I wait in silence. I am open and curious, trusting that the future will unfold. There is plenty of time for introspection and meditation, and meanwhile, I am writing my book The Flower. De Bloem.[2]
This form of waiting is not waiting for something. It is a way of living. It is being full of expectation, not-knowing, being open to everything that might occur. It is becoming like a child again, full of surrender, flexible, willing to be surprised by life. My decades of attention training have taught me this form of waiting. It is partly because of this that I dared to start a new life here in Amsterdam in this final phase of my life.
One of my beloved haikus describes this form of waiting:
Sitting quietly, not-doing.
Spring comes,
and the grass grows by itself.[3]
—
Slowly but surely, structures begin to form. Someone asks if I would like to start a meditation group at my home. My first clients reach out through friends and acquaintances. And the grandmother-(babysitting) times are a recurring joy.
Then something happens that plants the seed for what will grow into a cherished morning ritual in the years to come.
An unexpected encounter: I meet Ingrid. We are standing next to each other watching a soccer match. My granddaughter Myrthe and her daughter Soumaya turn out to be friends and play on the same team. We hit it off immediately, and a few months later, she takes me to my first yoga class. I don't know what hits me! My body loves it, and my heart recognizes this practice as something I have always longed for to complement my silent sitting meditation practice. This falls into my lap. I promptly contact a yoga school near me, Zest Your Live in Amstelveen. It feels like coming home. This diversity of forms of movement meditation-on-the-breath (Zest is aptly named a mind and body training studio) suits me perfectly. Yoga and Pilates turn out to be the right elements to complete my attention training.
Yet, the first step is still significant. 'Can I still start something entirely new at my age? Am I not an odd one out here? I'm not that flexible anymore…'. My hesitation melts away during a warm intake conversation with Anatevka, where it becomes clear that there is literally a suitable class for everyone, young and old, flexible and stiff, fit and with physical discomforts. You just have to choose. And I did so wholeheartedly.
—
That first time was years ago. Since then, I have been through a lot. Death is taking an increasingly important place in my life. For instance, two of my brothers passed away within a few weeks of each other, and Mayke, my soulmate friend, passed away in her own light way. This has also left its marks physically. Fortunately, there was always an adaptation possibility to continue the lessons, even during the corona times, for which I am very grateful to Anouk, the founder of Zest.[4] Ook op lichamelijk vlak heeft dit de nodige sporen nagelaten. Gelukkig was er telkens weer een aanpassingsmogelijkheid om toch de lessen te kunnen blijven volgen, zelfs in corona-tijd, waarvoor ik Anouk, de oprichter van Zest, heel dankbaar ben.
I have learned so much! During JJ's core workout classes, I learned how to strengthen the center in my belly,[5] so I can relieve my aching back. A lingering bursitis, first in my right and now in my left shoulder, demands all my attention to feel my body well and not do more than it can handle, preferably even less – 80%, as Sandra recommends in her yin yoga classes. And lately, I even dare to follow vinyasa yoga with Renate because I nowdrie gouden richtlijnenfinally apply my 'three golden guidelines' to my own body:[6] toepas:
I am going to do this
I do what I can
I can start anew at any moment..[7]
Zest has become indispensable in my life. Monique, Alana, Karen – so many teachers have become dear to me. It is a joy to step in every morning around 9 am and greet the lovely people at the reception. A meditative cup of latte at home and a wonderfully quiet drive along the Amstel have already preceded it. A short sitting meditation before and after each class completes the ritual start of my day.
If you don't wait... the unexpected can't happen.
This waiting has brought me incredibly much! I cannot repeat it often enough: I am a grateful person.
[1] Quote from the Tao Te Ching.
[2] Eva Wolf, The Flower (2022).
[3] Haiku (Japanese poetic form) by Hakuin (1686 – 1769), Japanese Zen master.
[4] I love the word 'passing,' because it leaves the question 'to where?' open.
[5] Core’ in yoga is what I call my ‘place of silence,’ about two centimeters below the navel. Similar terms: Chi, Prana, Hara, life energy.
[6] In mijn denken en mijn emoties, die samen met mijn lichaam mijn persoonlijkheid vormen (The Flower, In my thinking and emotions, which together with my body form my personality (The Flower, 3), I already lived according to these guidelines. But my body has always been my problem child. I am, after all, an emotional-mental type according to the personality dynamics of Human Dynamics (The Flower, 3.8). In this final phase of my life, I can finally give my body what it needs.The Flower, 3.8). In deze laatste fase van mijn leven kan ik mijn lichaam eindelijk geven wat het nodig heeft.
[7] These guidelines form a new way of being consistent, which is much kinder and more effective than the old, common notion of consistency, namely that you must always persist stubbornly (The Flower, 4.12).The Flower, 4.12).