Möte bland myskmårra och nässlor och jag hoppas på själavandring.

”Titta, människor!” sa min tvååriga dotterdotter och pekade på ett par ungdomar. Sedan lade hon händerna över sitt bröst och nickade tankfullt ” Jag är också människa.”

Människor möter man ju överallt. Igår mötte jag en bland nässlorna. Det var under träden, på denna lövsprickningens plats där livet så muntert spottat ut mig.

”Vad plockar du? ” I asked her because she did not pick nettles. The rickety plants were related to nettles, but if you rub or grind them, they smell of garlic..

”Mmm!” we both raved. Then she showed me one herb and the leaf after another that she used in cooking and salads. We talked for a long time and in the middle of it all, a passable boy was about to grow up, running and hugging her.

”Hi mom! ” he said in her hair.

”Hello my darling, today it will be pickled salad!”

Then he would leave again, back to school and kissed her and she said:

”I love you”, and I thought of my own son when he was twelve years old and that he never came at that age when the children are said to be ashamed of their parents. He has always been able to pat and kiss me in public and so we talked about it too, over something spinach-like, and be so full of love at these words to our boys.

I'm lucky to have ended up where people are calmer and herbs attract. In the city on the cement wiped out by human secretions, only attracted things and in fact not the people at all.

Things. I was a turn in town yesterday. I saw lots of things, beautiful things that struck me, in my poverty. And what to do with the things?

But here is a whole forest of food! I want to know a lot about these leaves and herbs and roots and twigs! It is not called Muskmårra, but it sounds good and in musk I have made tea. It tastes like something I forgot. Not at all sure that I have experienced the scent and taste before but it feels uplifting clean. Sour scent, not even sure it's good, men teet… mm, I want more! Maybe it's related to cocaine? I have cocaine too, from Colombia, which I bought from an Indian at the cathedral up in the mountains outside Bogota when I was there because my play ERLING was played there. Cocaine was not served anywhere, also at my super luxurious hotel. It's harmless, but is said to be healthy. Musk marrow is tastier!

This woman, among the nettles, told that where she came from, former Yugoslavia, you picked this and that and did this and that on that and she pointed here and there at green things. It's wonderful to live here! I can not understand why you should live in the middle of town, especially not when you have children! Here you meet small children come cycling on the footpaths to kindergarten and school, trallande. A while later, a mum or dad comes lazily on their bike. Among muskrat and nettles.

But it is also mostly lantis who are looking for the inner city today. They have had enough of walkways and nettles and Småland. They want human kisses on the sidewalks, screams and shoals and fancy taverns to feel like a world citizen with a cool drink in the pinch. I can imagine. The inner city residents grow beards and sprouts and move out. Relaxing. Here people are relaxed and all sorts.

A few years ago when I went to Forsgrenska's gym at Medis and had a personal trainer ( I became stronger than most!) there was a man there – if I wanted to – had a few things to tell me. He was a clairvoyant. I did not believe in that but became curious. But he told me a few things from my life that not even my friends knew. It was very strange. Besides the, he said that in two of my previous lives I have lived in Africa. Once as a dancer in the depths of the continent. Another time as a kind of witch around the Nile, and I was a fan of herbs. It was pretty fun I think. I thought that maybe that's why I have always felt so inexplicably calm and secure with dark brown skin. Vem vet? What do you know? Fairly little.

I came to think of that with my musk in my fist. My herbal witch life. So maybe I should try to evoke the knowledge of my older souls so I can get guidance among the gossip cabbage.

These days I hope for soul migration. That would be most fair. That there is a meaning to everything. That we learn things, and that we have to go through different lives because we still have more to learn. That what we know about ourselves here and now is a detail in the big picture that we will understand later. And that's why all those who say they should guard one when they are dead are not really doing it. Because they have realized that it is not needed. Because they know what comes next and that everything we worry about at this stage and are tormented by is not something to put gunpowder on and be tormented by. That you do not even need to be protected for it is not important on the whole. That everything gets better. That it is ok to leave us without supervision and protection. But that it can not be explained to us yet, what we cannot include. But we will understand later. Then we will smile tenderly indulgently at how dramatically we perceived everything, how vital and irreversible.

That there is a loving harmony. The big whole. That we just do not understand where we are now. We are in the soul migration phase. I hope so.