My memory of Hévíz—a Hungarian spa town—is a memory of sensation. My time there is sacred. It’s not a particularly “exciting” time; it’s a rejuvenating contemplative retreat more than anything. For close to a month, my routine consists of eating, walking, resting, sleeping, soaking in mineral hot springs, and receiving wellness treatments (massages, mud packs, etc.). For me, it is bliss. It’s the closest to I get to God.
On more than one occasion I’ve gone there to disconnect from life-as-I-know-it where I live; to disconnect from computers; phones; responsibilities. Solitude is available in large quantities. I slow down. I stop thinking. And when I stop thinking, I begin to sense life in and around me in ways I tend to overlook during the rest of the year. What I find through disconnection is a reconnection with the language of my senses—and nature.
For example …
From my window each morning
I hear and see:
.
.
From the cobblestone streets
I watch and listen:
.
.
From the lake—a thermal lake—
I feel my skin enveloped in heat and liquid nutrition:
.
.
I smell
sweetness in the earth; air; trees:
.
.
Well … there’s earth, air, and trees in that video, but you can’t really smell them.
Perhaps one year I’ll capture the scent and share it here …
~
This post was prepared for:
Language > Place Blog Carnival #14:
Locating the Senses in Language / Place
