We – my partner, I, and another woman – are about to buy a property. The man selling tells us he has one condition for the sale: The transaction has to include an element of the absurd. We agree. When we later walk up to his house to sign the papers, he is wearing odd clothes and does an exagerated medieval type of greeting gesture. The woman with us does something similar so we can also contribute with an element of the absurd.
I had this dream in the early morning before signing papers to buy land.
What is the dream about? Why an element of the absurd?
When I woke up from this dream, the first that came up is the absurdity of buying or owning land.
For me, for as long as I can remember, it has seemed absurd that we humans can own or buy land.
Land belongs to itself. Every being belongs to itself.
Of course, I understand why we own and buy land in a conventional sense. The main reason is that we can. It works, to some extent, for us. We have a convention and social agreement around it. And what we own and buy is the right to access, use, and stewardship, not the land itself.
And yet, it is absurd. It has an element of the absurd. And it’s good to be aware of it. It gives us a bit of humility and puts it in perspective.
Why the second woman? I am not sure. She was a relatively average-looking young woman with dark hair and looked local to this country. In this purchase and project, there is perhaps an additional element of the feminine. Of care and nourishment. We certainly have that aim – to care for the land and find ways to be nourished here.
Who is the man? He reminds me of a Swedish man we know from Villa de Leyva who is unashamedly creative and eccentric in a good way.