The corners of my mind were filled with ideas and expectations, of how I thought the Academy was going to function and evolve. None of them came out the way I predicted.
Every little thing placed in the “Universe” was a creative masterpiece in itself. Formed of major creativity and relevance for development of the mind, every item, every soundscape, every performer became highly important. Every morning when I woke up, I wanted to wake up. My alarm clock wasn’t my enemy anymore, but instead it became my morning-mockingbird, ready to wake me up. Morning after morning, I looked forward to the day that was about to flourish. Each and every day grew to be a beautiful, fragrant rose.
Another essential part of the “Universe” was the teachers. I knew every one of them, from before Sisters Academy, but they were totally different in the established “Universe”. Maybe it was the surroundings? Or the fact that they were a part of a big puzzle so they had to succeed? I don’t think so. I saw my teachers blossom – in areas never travelled or yet discovered by them, in their huge land of teaching. My respect for them and their job grew. I’ve always had respect for teaching, but to see them totally “unarmed”, not knowing whether what they were doing worked or not, made a huge impression on me. I was proud, and I felt so comfortable being around them. Not only as teachers but also as individual personalities.
The performers and their performance were unique and bizarre. By bizarre, I mean extraordinary – spectacular. I have no words. I use these words, and feelings I can’t even describe, because this wasn’t just a new way of educational path that became apparent to me. I redeemed myself from a lot of personal boundaries, and it became a personal journey. I could see myself – things and people, in a new perspective. My long talks with Yaa, the medicine woman, The Gardener and Skyggen made me aware of my inner (and outer) self. What I am capable of, and how I should treat others and myself. For that, I am forever grateful. Thank you.
The thing about never seeing them and the “Universe” again, is really difficult to handle. Everything crawled so deeply under my skin, that a goodbye is to hard to grasp. So I will not say goodbye. I will keep every bit of this journey with me, and remember every detail, until the day I can’t remember my mothers name. And if I feel cheerless, nostalgic or in despair – I will gaze at the seeds I planted. The one on my windowsill and the one in my heart.
Emilie.