a beautiful sadness: a true story from the North

I saw that shore across Reine as the sun was shining on the dancing mountains and I said to myself "that's where I need to go".
So, the next morning me and my luggage hopped on a tiny ferry with other eager tourists under the pouring rain to get to the other side of the fjord. Meanwhile I am thinking I must be crazy moving camp for one night under a consistent rain. When we got there, the rain kept pouring and I hardly took refuge in the small cabin next to the pier. Great, and there was nowhere good for camping in the eyesight, anyway it was raining non-stop. I sat there utterly disappointed with myself, overwhelmed by the inner-critique's "I told you so". 
Fuck! I was most likely going to spend the night in that shabby cabin. I accepted the situation quickly and decided to make the most of it anyway. Isn't it all about the attitude?
A few minutes later news got to the cabin that the odd village cafe was open! Ok, once acceptance kicked in, things were moving fast already. I swiftly walked to the yellow building and was greeted by the delicious smell of freshly made waffle and coffee. I found myself a warm corner in this cozy place and enjoyed a cup of coffee while waiting to see how things would unfold. A little later I asked the young woman serving us if there was a place to stay in the village. She mentioned a man renting an old barn turned into an airbnb place. Ok, can I stay there? They called him and that night the place was available. Wow, I was suddenly upgraded from a 4 sqm cabin with hard benches to an old barn! I said yes I'll take it please. The rain stopped a few hours later (I caught at least one rainbow) and I made my way through this godforsaken village to meet my home for the night. What I was surrounded by was absolutely incredible: the sharp erect mounts of rocks in still movement, waterfalls coming down with rigor, all shades of green speckled with wild flowers. I walked on till I found 'the barn' and score! The barn had become a very cozy, simple but tasteful cabin with a firewood stove. Things were starting to look really good by now. Having secured a roof over my head for the night, I went on a relaxed evening hike. When I climbed the small hill on the way to Bunes beach I found myself surrounded by breathtaking beauty - more rocky peaks rising towards the sky in elegant movements, the still, emerald Reinefjord behind me and the fierce Norwegian Sea ahead of me. There was immaculate beauty in every direction I looked so I just sang. I sang my praise to the Creation. I sang to the rocks and waters and birds and the wind in an unfamiliar language, which sounded like Celtic melodies to me. When I returned to the barn, still high from my meeting inner and outer beauty, I knew the owner of the airbnb was going to be there so I prayed inside "please no awkwardness". Frank turned out to be a really great guy, I immediately recognized the ease between us, two well-traveled adventurers. He made my bed and started the fire and even offered me some cod but I turned the fish down out of politeness. Later that night as I sat in the candle light, the warm fire at my back, watching the waterfalls, and the clouds floating over the fjord, I could find no more excuses to not believe in the benevolence of life. As more and more of my struggle falls away I realize there's nothing to worry about.
Then I forget of course. Ah being human. 
Sitting there alone - in the midst of sheer beauty - I could touch on a great sadness which is mine and not mine alone, rising like cliffs surrounding me. The illusion of separation cutting so deep like a sharp knife, right to the bone. I had believed in it with all my naiveté: that there are "me" and "others". 
There are no others. There is no "other". 
It is me and the divine. 
This I truly felt in that magical moment. 
Only a few hours later I was overwhelmed with the fear that somebody would break in to the house in this strange place, and I spent the night on the sofa in the living room, sleeping very alert with disturbing dreams. 
So much for spiritual awakening. 
The great sadness of not being able to trust and surrender to the Beloved...the great fear that I still have to learn so much about. 
This being human...