define('WP_AUTO_UPDATE_CORE', true);// Deze instelling is vereist om mogelijk te maken dat WordPress-updates op de juiste manier worden beheerd in WordPress Toolkit. Verwijder deze regel als deze instantie van WordPress niet langer wordt beheerd door WordPress Toolkit. Warning: Declaration of Imbalance2_Walker_Nav_Menu::start_lvl(&$output, $depth) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::start_lvl(&$output, $depth = 0, $args = Array) in /var/www/vhosts/writingplace.org/httpdocs/wp-content/themes/imbalance2/functions.php on line 104 Warning: Declaration of Imbalance2_Walker_Nav_Menu::end_lvl(&$output, $depth) should be compatible with Walker_Nav_Menu::end_lvl(&$output, $depth = 0, $args = Array) in /var/www/vhosts/writingplace.org/httpdocs/wp-content/themes/imbalance2/functions.php on line 104 The world up side down | Writingplace

The world up side down

Picture from nationalgeographic.com, Reflections of water in a cave in Utah.

I was lying on the mat, trying to catch my breath after exercise. It felt nice, the floor supporting me, not letting me go anywhere, protecting me from gravity. I decided to just lay there a little bit longer and enjoy the warmth of the sun that was coming in through the one and only window of the attic. I opened my eyes and saw a strange, fuzzy, moving shape on the ceiling.

Closed them. Opened them again.

The strange shape was still there, looking like water reflection. It took me a while to realize that this was exactly what it was. The attic was right next to the canal. But I never imagined that the reflection would go as up high as the third floor, traveling through the window, to the white ceiling. As I was resting on the floor, my head pointing to the canal, the south, my feet pointing to the north, I decided to arch my neck and try to look above my head, instead of sitting up and turning around.

I saw the world up side down and it was beautiful.

The rooftops outside the window had become vast stalactites, with the church tower being the biggest of them. The reflection on the ceiling was now a canal flowing within this imaginary cave. And the succulents on the window sill where the hanging foliage of exotic trees, framing it’s entrance.

I sit up after a while and took a straight-up look of the same spot: the traditional wooden window, the rooftops, smoking despite the sun, our nicely arranged little pots, and the flat Dutch horizon, expanding without interruption as far as my eyes could see. For a moment I caught myself feeling nostalgic. The high mountains, the steep slopes, the rocks, the hidden cavities of my home country, seldom allowing the horizon to form a straight line in the inner land. Then, I turned my head up side down. It was all here. Not real, but comforting.

A.

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