Okay, let’s just say that this is how we hoped the scene would look pictured from above.


And this is how life should have been pictured from the front. But as you know, a herder only herds his sheep, he cannot control them. He gave them free will. And here they went, willing free, free willing. And James and Confession sheep found our bag. They saw it was pink. Fuchsia pink.


‘Look!’ James said, ‘a distraction!’ We hoped that we could teach him a little about emotional health. And we hoped we couch tell him a little about how to separate the who from the do. And that a sheep is only fully free if he doesn’t feel the need to impress others. Because that is working three daytime jobs. But James was distraught. Because of the pink suitcase.


‘Screw world peace,’ James said, I want in!’ We hoped to tell James a little that sometimes the only way out is through. And we were looking for a time to ask him what kind of relationsheep he had with himself. But he was so infatuated with the color pink that he just had to see what it was.


And so James went in.


Come to think of it, because we let James go about his way, we noticed there is not a right or a wrong way to be distracted, or to go in. This was his way to go about it and that was it. It was the fact that he trusted us enough to just undertake something like this that touched us. He knew we were there.


He knew we were there looking at his bum.


Even when he almost disappeared, we were there. And he was too, because he was in our minds (and our suitcase).


‘Eh.. James’, confession sheep said.




‘What are you doing, mäh?’


‘I went in, because the thing was pink. I went in because I found it to be a mesmerizing distraction, I was just curious you know,’ James said. ‘And because Potamotrygorgeous was there, I thought it was safe.’


‘It sure is safe in a travel bag like this,’ confession sheep said. ‘But I think Potamotrygorgeous has a different opinion about safety. Or at least a different definition of it.’


‘Let me get you out so I can explain the difference between being safe in a closed space and being safe in your heart. I will hold the trolley open so you can get out..’


‘You would do that for me?’ James asked.


‘I am doing it, see? How’s that for being reliable, huh? My word is my truth. If I say that I will help you, I will help you. Now hurry a bit, its hurting my back a little.’


We helped just a little bit. And no, that is not a mirr tattoo.


‘Would love to find out more about what you said earlier,’ James said, ‘about safety. Because I think you wanted to make a distinction between feeling safe or being safe or something. It’s almost as if you said that believing or just knowing you are safe is more true than feeling safe? Is that what you say? That feelings can’t always be trusted?’


But before confession sheep could answer… ‘Ooooh,’ James exclaimed, ‘this reminds me of my birth! It feels I am born! It’s the color, it’s the opening, it’s the falling out. eh.. the whole eeeh… Gestalt!’


And as every newborn James was allowed to be fully egocentric, not aware of his surroundings. But because he was born again he remembered where he came from.. and who helped him.


‘You need a hand there?’ James said.


‘Oh, James, your way of thinking is magical and enchanting that I relaxed a little, and the bag became a bit heavy.’


‘Let me help you then!’ James said.




‘Eh.. potamotrygorgeous?’