A Personal Encounter with the Oera Linda

[Festadela]

Hi everyone,

I’d like to introduce myself not as a scholar, but as someone who feels the roots of this text in the water and the salt.

Growing up in Friesland, my life was shaped by the Wadden Sea and the Frisian lakes. I spent my younger years on valkjes, skûtsjes, and tjalken. I’ll never forget those nights lying in my bunk on a flat-bottomed boat, feeling the tide to come back in. I would watch the moon through the skylight, and the moment the ship broke free from the sand, the moon would start swaying back and forth, lulling me back to sleep as we began to move.
I remember the absolute silence of the thick mist, but also the crystal-clear nights with a stunning starry sky and the distant beacons of the islands.

To me, the Oera Linda book is like that ship. I’m not interested in those standing on the shore debating who built it or how old it is; I’m interested in how beautifully it sails and glides through the water. I feel the pure maritime spirit of these ancestors in my own bones.

When the stylus starts writing on the walls in the text, it feels like a personal encounter. It makes me ask: what am I writing within my own life? What is my part in this story?

I don't come here with answers, but with a recognition of that silent strength, the same strength I felt on the water. I want to learn from those who have long kept this flame, guarding the wisdom carved in stone and salt.

Because if we are to stand the watch, we must know: how do we keep the flame from turning to ash?

Best,

Festadela