Time has come for me to leave Afroz, to leave the island of Lesbos – my summer home, the place where I worked, the place where I had my holidays, the place where I re-met dear friends and where I met some new wonderful people, the place where I loved, and laughed, and cried, the place where I’ve been truly happy – for no reason at all, a place of understanding others and understanding myself. A place which left in my heart a mark, a distinctive trace, as if it were a person. Because, for me, Afroz it is not just the sum of all the people that live in it, or the enumeration of all its buildings, or a list of all the events that took place there over the summer. It is more than that – it feels like it is a living being, a living entity, having its own will, having its own path into existence, having even its own body that you can sometimes feel (in the evening, after the sun has set and the evening meditation is over or when walking around, on the dusty pathways, under the sun at midday), but above all, having a deep wisdom of life and immense reservoirs of acceptance and unconditional love.
Before ending my Afrozian summer, I want to share with you some photos of little moments which happened in Afroz and did not find their way into my blog. Like the mess in my luggage just after arriving, or the first storm of the summer, in June, with dinner by the fire, like the lunch with the girls in Skala (“Let’s do it now, before you guys start Primal!”), the bar, the Buddha Groove, an afternoon of wonderful playing and dancing which happened spontaneously one day, after lunch, the new Osho Afroz sign, old and new friends gathered in Zorba the Buddha on our last night there, Mytilini in the light of the rising sun, just before leaving the island.
“The best things in life just happen” read the sign in a bar in Mytilini where I bought my last coffee. I would just add: All we have to do is to let them happen. Thank you, Afroz, for teaching me what it means to “let things happen”!