Erman, Erman!

Day five at home, following double pneumonia. And suddenly, there it is again—that old, familiar surge of energy. I feel it pulling through my body. We can move forward again! Plans are tumbling over one another, the lists of projects write themselves.

The party lasts for four days. Then it crashes again. And ever since, it’s hit me almost every day. Waking up in a sweat, that vague feeling of simply being sick. No fever, nothing measurable. Just plain rotten. Naturally, my mind immediately runs away with it. Is that bacterium still in there? Did those antibiotics actually work long enough? Or have they become resistant in the meantime and are they quietly plotting round two? No fever, so probably not. Probably...

Time to call my hematologist in Amsterdam. She brings me crashing back down to earth: 'Herman, what on earth do you expect? You had double pneumonia. A completely healthy person takes weeks to recover from that. Take it easy.'

Take it easy.

Except my alarm clock here doesn't go off at seven. It comes from the construction site, and it calls: 'Erman! Erman!' The men need input. Decisions need to be made, preferably right now. It is wonderful to see something beautiful rising from the ground here. It gives energy. And it costs energy. Exactly the energy I don't have right now.

So I force myself into a different pace. I walk slowly across my own hill. Deliberately slow, almost strolling. Step by step by step, just like back then on Table Mountain. Not thinking about the summit, only about the next step.

And the beauty of it is: when I stroll like this, it almost feels like a holiday. If I keep this up, I'll get there. But that 'if' is a big one. I am still an aspiring Zeroist; I’m still not very good at it.

'Erman! Erman!'

Si si, arrivo subito! I'm coming! Piano piano. Slowly.