It was a warm Sunday afternoon, I was sitting at a very traditional Murcian Brasserie, at the very heart of the city when a rather striking white dove landed on my table. She was one of a kind, so mesmerising, I couldn’t help but loosing myself in her. She radiated peace and light all around her. Her beauty, her assurance, her elegance and strength were no match to any other white dove I had ever seen this far. Something else was uniquely different about her, her feathers, they exhibited a most unusual and rather intriguing colour coding system. It was as if it had an encrypted message about it, but one certainly incomprehensible to me at the time.
When I eventually came back to my senses, I was forced to notice how agitated she was. It was as if she was running away from something or perhaps someone. “Such a beautiful dove, I would not be surprised she would have more than one admirer” I thought to myself. But eventually she settled down on my table and as she did she began to stare at me fiercely. The intensity of her gaze left me quite overwhelmed at first but I was too curious not to hold her gaze and before I could even notice it, I got caught into the story her eyes were beginning to narrate. So I stayed there, gently sipping on my drink, carefully observing each gaze of her unfolding story.
She was on the road, on the road to her own life, on the road to her own dreams. This beautiful white dove had a dream. She was seeking the freedom of her own heart. Just as I expected, she was running away from something, letting go of an old luggage she had been carrying along with her far too long. She was starting her new journey but it seemed clear to me she had no intention to start it alone, she was looking for a road companion, a nomadic soul who would share with her all of her moments to come, the good and the ugly.
I was ecstatic and yet again absented myself a little while into my own world…
“Could this gorgeous white dove somehow had chosen me to be her travel companion?”
“I too am on the road, I too am looking to start the journey of my dreams….”
“Such a beautiful encounter can’t be a mere hazard, can it?”
I was vividly baffling to myself up to the point I realised I was missing out on some important passages from her story and so I quickly rushed back to her stare. She was being indeed followed by an army of colour coded male white doves, so called the palomos. She had spent her entire life on this earth learning and mastering the art of freeing herself from them until she would please, thereby surrendering herself to one of them and ending this rather unusual race. A very traditional Murcian ritual she depicted with a rather cynical grin on her face. But as if that was not enough, each palomo was itself manically followed by its own own owner, the Palomo trainer. All of the sudden, her colour coded feathers became clear, she too had a trainer, she was the key to this rather strange Murcian tale, she had spent her entire life running away from a hysterical cohort of frantic male energies.
Until now she had been playing the game, but today she chose to no longer dream her dreams but to start living them. Her owner had taught her all the tricks to lose a palomo, never would he have thought his dove would one day apply all his teaching to free herself from him and yet it is exactly what she did today. As the race started this morning in rural Spain, she pushed her dreams forward and here she was with me at last alone in the heart of the city, radiating a very unique confident confusion all over her face.
What truly surprised and touched me about this dove is her trust, in life, in me. Here she was, sharing her story with another human being. So I couldn’t but think to myself…
“Hell yeah, I will be your companion in our journey”
With our eyes closed and our dreams opened, Mina and I embarked on our new journey, that of our dreams, that of our hearts