It was absolutely amazing. I was lying in the bed and could not hear anything, not a single sound. Nothing, an absolute absence of sound. And it was like this every evening, every single evening of the last week. I have spent the last week in Norway, leading a couple of workshops in the bellowed RCNUWC College where I like to work so much. It seems that every year I enjoy yet another aspects of this beautiful environment – be it its multicultural diversity, be it the enthusiasm and the brilliant intelligence of the students, or the sense of remoteness, or the wisdom that some students demonstrate at such an early age, or the sense of a community…
Well, this time it was just the simple nature. The shock of the clear air and complete serenity each time I stepped out of a building. Billions of stars on the entirely dark sky overhead, with no light pollution whatsoever. The water, the mountains, all these magical elements that I have been feeling already so disconnected from, now completely present, powerful, tranquil… And the silence, oh boy, what a silence. Not any different then the one in the desert, really. No cars. No planes. No sirens. No drunk parties screaming hysterically. No background city buzz. Absolutely nothing.
My friends, as beautiful as it was, it actually got me feeling a bit sad and restless. What on earth am I living in a city centre for? Ok, there are some handy aspects of that – I can walk around the city, to the cinema, to the café, to the theatre… And… Hm… Well, I guess there are other things too… And it is not the worst situation, you see, we actually do have a bit of a green space around the house, and the traffic from the streets is not too bad out of the rush hours, and on Sundays it can be even enjoyable to sit outside. Or really late at nights, have a fire going in the yard and enjoy – trying not to let the occasional maniac drivers and the screaming tires of their cars ruin the feeling completely…
I mean, it is really not that bad. But, sitting on the Oslo airport now, with my lungs still full of oxygen and my skull still filled with the silence and images of tranquillity of this lovely little remote fjord, I feel I have been completely wasting my life over there in the city. This is not what a human life is supposed to be like. Disconnected from nature, from its fundamental elements, trying to survive the day-and-night ongoing bombardments with noise, pollution…
On the other hand, I know that if I announce that we are moving out of the city into the wilderness, I will dramatically shorten my life span since my three teenagers will poison me in a matter of day or two. 
So I guess I’ll just have to wait for a bit. If the world holds on for long enough. 
