Grus grus – Heralds of Spring

I am tired of winter by now, tired of the cold, tired of the greyness, wetness and emptiness, the fierce winds and snow. I want to feel some warmth upon my body, I yearn for the sunlight upon my face, for flowers, insects and colours ... I want to enjoy the outdoors again, walk barefoot through the dewy grass, I want to be overwhelmed with the spicy scent of the lilac in the gardens, I long for a bird's song in the morning and nakedness at night ... I long for spring.

And I think it is just around the corner ... the flowers can hardly wait to pop open and sink us in an ocean of colours and scents ... I can feel the change in the atmosphere. The wind is becoming milder, the sun is getting warmer and I'm starting to get the slightest notion of the almost forgotten sounds of spring – the buzzing of bees and flies, the wild noise of mating cats, kids laughing, playing outside.

Yet there is one sound almost tantamount to spring – being so distinct, so dear and familiar to me: the sound of the cranes going north!

Last weekend I had this year's first sighting of these sublime waterfowls, heralds of the spring. The Eurasian crane, "grus grus" – how I love this name ever since I first learned it as a kid – flocks and flocks of these beautiful bluish-grey birds flying past, returning from their African winter quarters ... hundreds of them gathering high above my head, circling, spiralling up to even higher altitudes, reforming their mighty triangles in the sky before elegantly proceeding on their journey ... necks held straight, wings stretched wide ... all grace and beauty.

The air was filled with their spine-tingling call, as if they wanted to drive the winter away, the noise echoing in my winter-weary soul all night long ... comforting me with the auspicious, much longed-for certainty: spring ... yes ... soon!!


Here's a poem by Marilyn Peretti, dedicated to these great birds – my beloved cranes:

Ardour

This ardour has flown in so recently,
entered this life of years
after expectation had worn thin like glass,
yet now has nested tightly in my chest
like some organ that insists on pumping oxygen,
forcing its way through,
to the point of improving vital signs:

these widespread wings
of common cranes,
that lift and push, lift and glide,
over my head, over my trees, across my earth,
pulling this temporal being
up into their cool orbit,
entrusting me with wings.

Rilke: The Panther

Rilke's poem ... it reminded me of somebody ... looking at the world from behind bars that addiction and struggle create for him ... and it makes me sad, touching me so much ...

The Panther

Jardin des Plantes, Paris

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tense, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

Rainer Maria Rilke, 1907
(translation: Stephen Mitchell)

something by Brazilian poet Manuel Bandeira

"To be like a river that flows

silent through the night,

not fearing the darkness and

reflecting any stars high in the sky.



And if the sky is filled with clouds,

the clouds are water like the river, so

without remorse reflect them too

in the calm deep."

I’m blessed because ...

... I have those wonderful, loving friends ... and I would be nothing without them.

I love my friends for who they are and for what they do as much as for what they don't, for taking me out of my self at times and for reconciling me with it at others.

I love them for being caring and sympathetic and big-hearted and generous, reasonable and funny and crazy and wise, amazing and understanding and wild and insightful and candid and honest and sensible and sometimes for being such terrible pains in the ass.

I love them for telling me I'm greatness when I feel like chicken-shit, for dealing with my moods and madness, my dreams and temporary despair, I love them for telling me not to take myself so fucking seriously when I lose myself in drama, for feeding me when I'm hungry and soothing me when I hurt, for listening to me when I overflow with thoughts and for simply being there when I think I'm lost, I love them for making me laugh when I want to cry, for making my fly when I think I must crawl and for keeping my feet firmly on the ground when I run danger of losing myself in the stars and the clouds.

I love them for their strength as much as for their weakness, their wit as much as their fears, I love them in their ups and downs and joys and angers. They catch my fall, they ease my sorrow, they open my heart and my eyes, they make me smile and sing and dance, they make me shout and scream and cry at times but they are always there to reason, to talk, to make up again.

I love them for sharing my crazy life with me and letting me know they love me back ... their words and deeds and thoughts mean the world to me.

I think I'm blessed. I know I am.

Conversations with my Gardener ... so enchanting!

I'm just back from the cinema and still full of wonder ... what an enchanting movie ... has anybody seen the film "Conversations with my Gardener"? If you haven't yet, try see it, you'll love it, I'm sure!! It's such a small, simple yet breathtakingly wonderful movie – a French one, based on a memoir by painter Henri Cueco – it makes your heart swell up to the size of a big orange pumpkin, or so it feels! The story is so enchanting in it's simplicity, it's artless honesty, so down to earth, so stark, so beautiful – just these two men, a somewhat successful but embittered artist and a plain but happy gardener, spending those little moments together while they both do their daily work – one painting, the other one planting vegetables – engaging in simple dialogues about life.

It brought tears of joy and happiness to my eyes, so funny at times, so endearing at others, the way the gardener talks about the world as he sees it – plain and simple, so full of wonder – his life so completely unremarkable compared to the artist's life and yet he is full of joy, like a child, knowing no bitterness or envy, rejoicing over such tiny pleasures.

To see these two men come to see the world anew through each other's eyes, it's so intriguing, realizing how no dialogue can really go any deeper in it's essence.
As simple as their conversations are – rooted in mere common sense – they are as spiritual as anything ever will be.

If you have any sense for that kind of simple beauty, you'll definitely enjoy that movie a lot!!

If you do not have the chance to watch it in a cinema near you – I think the DVD will be out in March, just check it out if you think of it – I feel this has been the greatest small movie I have seen in ages ...

I'm just so cheerful, I couldn't help but share this – thanks for listening ;-)

No new year's resolutions ... perpetual all year's resolutions

well, to dwell upon the subject a little more ... here's a little bric-a-brac, things that came to my mind when I thought of all the things that I wouldn't make into new year's resolutions ... which doesn't mean I'm not serious about them ... I am ... but I so dislike dogmas ... I might just call them everlasting all year options, some already in practice, some firm intentions, some worth a try, some mere aspects of what I talk about in today's other blog ... anyway, here they are:

What I might do this year (and any other) without making any resolution to do so...

go to bed earlier ... sculpt a raptor ... throw away old things I've kept for too long ... paint my kitchen ... eat more fruits ... relax more ... seek connection ... confront things bravely ... be open for the extraordinary, new and unusual ... be patient ... call my friends more often ... visit my dad ... have fun ... be crazy ... ride my bike ... be giggly and goofy and all silly lilli ... be decisive in my action ... be true and authentic ... appreciate my friends ... travel ... finish old arguments ... go hiking ... be reliable ... say yes more often than maybe ... kiss people I love ... do things passionately but with compassion for others ... smile ... end old habits that keep me up at night ... visit far away friends ... get rid of what is not healthy ... call my landlord ... be mindful ... rollerskate ... communicate ... be less expectant ... be there for people who need me ... see more live music ... think of drinking enough BEFORE I dehydrate ... eat whatever I feel like in whatever amounts ... be willing to take risks ... fall in love ... be considerate ... gain weight ... be serene ... be a little naughty at times ... be conscious of my needs as much as of my responsibilities ... plant flowers ... leave the Church ... go out more often ... cook dinner for myself ... make new friends ... make doctor's appointments ... spend less time in front of the computer ... spend a lot of time with my nephew ... be honest with people ... try not to hurt anybody's feelings ... be more enthusiastic ... paint again ... find out who I am ... face my fears ... get rid of old ballast ... be genuine ... drink more tea ... tidy out the cellar ... take my meditation more seriously again ... pay more attention to my instincts ... be happy ... spend time all by myself ... be content ... start knitting socks ... be loud ... be silent ... be more understanding of other's faults and acknowledge my own ... avoid making too many plans ... be open for the unexpected ... simply be myself.

Happiness and the turn of the year ...

"And now let us welcome the New Year – full of things that have never been." (Rilke)

A week ago I have been asked how I felt about the new year and if I had any new year's resolutions and all I felt able to do was shrug the whole subject off. I felt empty and sad, somewhat lost and disoriented, completely devoid of imagination, passion or any kind of decided opinion. I realized I needed a little distance to what was happening, stepping back and taking a good look at what was there – or not there – inside me.

So I retreated into the silence and solitude of the countryside ... to my funny old rocking chair by the fire, going for long nightly walks across the empty fields all covered in white by frost and by snow, looking at the countless stars in the sky above ... waiting for things to expose themselves, watching my thoughts come and go, emotions arise and disappear again, reflecting on what came up, trying not to analyze too much but let the answers find their own way into my heart ... knowing they always do ... however painful the process may be at times, in the end clarity is the reward.

I've never been a great believer in "date related" resolutions. If I feel I have been mistaken in my behaviour – acting unwisely – or if I simply find I need to change certain things in my life, resolving to correct my course, I'll always try to change and readjust as soon as I become aware of the fact, so all through the year there may be new resolutions to accomplish.

There is one resolution though (I call it my "perpetual resolution") that I have to remind myself of at regular intervals – New Year's Eve being as welcome an occasion as any other – and that is to be happy in the moment! To find delight in what is right in front of me, in recalling the many reasons for gratitude, the simple joy of being alive and human and in that blessed with so many gifts – what a grace, what beauty! To see that again and feel the soothing, deeply pacifying humility and bliss rooted in that awareness – it always brings me right back into harmony with the world inside and outside my self. Coming face to face with the "reality of simplicity", regaining an awareness of the moment, I finally managed to feel more light-hearted again, more hopeful and optimistic looking ahead, more thankful and understanding looking back.

Life has a funny way of throwing unexpected things at us and I do not always know how to deal with them, I feel temporarily lost or betrayed, hopeless, confused or somewhat resigned to fate. At such moments it takes a lot of energy, self conquest and mindfulness to go beyond the self-pity and fear, the feelings of futility and purposelessness and it's always that one resolution, that one aim that brings back the confidence and strength: to be happy in the moment ... to remember that it is myself who decides whether to concentrate on the good or the bad, whether I want to see the reasons for thankfulness or for bitterness, the beauty or the misery.

A resolution isn't accomplished the day it's stated, it probably isn't even accomplished the day you reach your goal, it's a constant process, achieved in many small increments along the way, many small successes. At times we progress, at others we fall back. The turn of the year is a good time to renew those resolutions we have made before and then disregarded or neglected to some degree. It's a good time to reflect, to reconsider, to contemplate – to see where we went wrong, where we failed ourselves and others.

But ... we should also make sure we acknowledge what we do have achieved over the year, where we did develop or grow, where we made progress and changed for the better, where we made people happy, where we have been there for others.
"We can not give what we do not have" ... so true ... and to recognize our qualities (as well as our defects) we must stay honest with and true to ourselves – to who we really are, deep inside – or we run danger of misleading ourselves and others. Yet we should remember there is always more than one way of looking at things. We may not always see or understand in how far we have been of service to another, thinking of ourselves as having been selfish, of having been wrong, when really there was some kind of sense in everything that happened, everything we did ... somewhere beyond our grasp, making sense in the greater scheme of things.

German poet Rainer Maria Rilke described the turning of the years as "a great leaf, that God and you and I have covered with writing...", envisioning the New Year as "a bright new page, where everything yet can happen." He also reminds us that the future belongs to the realm of things that are beyond our control. Fate measures the page unmoved by us, however much we like the idea of being in control. And yet – somewhere beyond our will power, our wishes or expectations, our disappointments and failures even – there is hope, confidence, belief ... that in the future "everything yet can happen." ...

Just consider that thought – carrying so much comfort if you decide to see the good instead of the bad, the many possibilities instead of the risks: When everything yet can happen, it means being given a new chance – the New Year is a "new page", a new beginning. It is up to ourselves to let go of the failures and regrets, the resentments, fears and angers of the past. It is on us to forgive ourselves our errors and misconducts, to make up for them and try to grow, to believe in a deeper meaning in everything we have been allowed to experience. A "New Year – full of things that have never been" ... doesn't that sound promising and rewarding, pleasantly exciting, vibrant of life?

So when my friends finally arrived to end my self chosen solitude and share New Year's Eve with me, asking again how I felt about the new year and if I had any New Year's Resolutions, my answer was: I'm happy in the moment, resolving to remain happy in the moments to come, thankful for what has been and looking forward to whatever will come into being ... to remember that and remind myself in time should I forget, that is my perpetual All Year's Resolution.

"The secret of happiness is the determination to be happy always, rather than wait for outer circumstances to make one happy. It is a long succession of little decisions simply to be happy in the moment." (J. Donald Walters)

Musing on seven-year cycles

Came across something that sent me wondering just now ... I had a message somebody had updated his blog so I went to have a look and he was talking about his 49th birthday yesterday ... seven times seven ... wondering what he had been doing on every single one of those seventh .... and it got me thinking as well, I have always been a believer in that our life changes like every seven years in some way. We change, it's a biological thing to some degree, nature inflicted, hormones, whatever, but it's a fact that every single cell of our body renews in that cyclical rhythm, so you have a completely new body every seven years. Also there is a change in our energetic life cycles or rhythms, a different chakra is entered every seven years (if you want to know more, read here: The Chakras), bringing a change in awareness and activity, reason and willpower. The old indians believed that a man only becomes a "real" man with his 42nd birthday – entering his true spiritual path only then – and will only reach some stage of enlightening or Samadhi with his 49th ...

I don't know about you but I'm always pretty much aware of these things, how I change, how my body changes, my mind, my perception of the world – wondering what is bringing that change about and what comes with it – and I can see how my life took a turn of direction every seven years or so ... sometimes rather subtle, sometimes very distinct ...

At age seven most of us have just started school and experience how our world changes to some degree at that time .... we experience the first major constraints and responsibilities of our childhood, people start messing around with our minds, influence us, form us, and we have to go along and find our way in all that somehow ...

Around fourteen we fully enter adolescence and I guess we all know how that changes everything again .... wow, thinking back now, that was a heavy time ... the ballerina became the punk ... it's the time we try to find out who we really are and where we want to go I guess, hopelessly caught between childhood and adulthood, feeling somehow out of place in both worlds.

At 21 most of us have a vague notion of what they want to do and who they may be, have plans for the future, start developing their gifts and talents further ... many are in their first serious relationships, first serious jobs ... life is a strange mixture of expectations and everyday routines, dreams, hopes and possibillities, a desire to have fun and enjoy oneself and at the same time settle for something in some way, mostly with a regard to success in all it's different aspects ... life is ours in our minds and just waits to be conquered ...

At 28 we have most probably experienced our first failures and our first successes, have had to make some clear decisions concerning our lives ... some have started families by then, others have some kind of professional career going on, enjoying the fruits of their labour for the first time in their lives, being able to buy things, afford cars and holidays. Or if not, there still is this certainty it's sure gonna happen sometime soon ... life isn't as exciting anymore but still seems so promising and rewarding ... still we feel very much in control of everything and satisfied, more or less ... hungry for more ...

Then at 35 ... well ... all I can say so far is that this was the time I started to question all my earlier decisions ... started to scrutinize the so-called successes and accomplishments as well as the failures and flops, the routines and "safe-harbours", the paths I had chosen and where they were leading ... finding out that what had seemed hugely satisfying or promising at 28 no longer held much attraction. I had come to understand by then how little control we really have over our lives and how all that career thing leaves you with nothing much to hold on to in the end. Just emptyhanded when it comes to your self, your own reality beyond who you may be professionally. Same for relationships ... for the first time I could see clearly which had just been carried along, which had developed, which had failed, which left me empty or flat and which were rewarding in some way ... it was as if I got a clear picture of the whole situation – past and present – looking much deeper for the first time, knowing and understanding that this wasn't what I had wanted and feeling somehow reluctant to go on with it ... decisions had to be made – still have – things had to be straightened out and clarified in some kind of inventory of my own life. I guess that's where I still am, what I'm still doing, despite having a feeling so much has changed already ... such a long way to go yet ...

This is where my seven-year cyclic rhythm experience ends because I do not yet know what's gonna happen in the next stage ... at 42. Seems so far away, but looking back I see how fast time passes. What I expect is that by then I will have to look again and reconsider some of my present decisions, filter again, observe and scrutinize again: where have I been too scared to go all the way, make the right decisions, where have I been driven by fear, where by safety-thinking or a need for comfort, for company ... maybe things will seem more urgent in a few years ... more imminent ... less and less time to lose ...

Then at 49 ... what will that be like, I wonder? I think it's the last chance to really change something after all. Some kind of "now-or-never" situation. If you still act out of fear and safety-thinking, seeking comfort and serving outside expectations you'll probably end up doing that forever, getting a new chance only in a future life ...

Well, so much for my Saturday morning pondering ... thanks to Mike Scott ... if you care to read, here you go: Mike Scott's blog

Awareness and ignorance

Sometimes life is so much of a mystery ... things happen all the time, they come into being and then they pass and we never know for what reason, neither why they appear nor whey they disappear.
Instead of trying to comprehend why they do, I should just take them for what they are, remaining in the moment, simply seeing, enjoying and being grateful for what is pleasant ... accepting what is not ... but my mind is so restless lately, always wondering, pondering, trying to comprehend.

What happened to my assumed 'peace of mind' ... have I been carelessly taking it for granted, endangering it by that? It may just be that way. I felt so content and happy ever since I returned from the desert, nothing could disturb my balance, I felt rooted in reality, mastering my life with so much awareness and gratitude. It was nothing I did with much activity on my part; I had just given up trying to control what was happening – taking life as it came – and that had left me with a certain peace of mind.
It wasn't an easy time – early this summer I had to go through what might have become a bit of a tragedy in the past but I could just watch it and remain in awareness and avoid to fall into the abyss the way I would probably have a year ago. Now, this sounds quite arrogant in a way, and maybe it was ... expecting this 'new condition' to be there for good ... some kind of spiritual armchair ... just sit down, recline and make myself comfortable. Looks like it doesn't work that way – and I guess I knew it all along.

Why is it that we master some things with so much sensitivity and consciousness and others leave us completely lost and helpless. Why can we see the traps and dangers of going wrong so clearly in looking on others but are so often blind when it comes to ourselves?

All spring and summer I have been there for a friend in need, completely forgetting about myself, simply serving the moment, giving my guidance, my comfort, sharing my gifts freely, somehow independent of my self. I could just divine this friend's needs, fears and doubts – somewhere beyond intellect or reason – and gently guide him out of his darkness, back to a point where he could take over again, able to cope and go on by himself. Now I see something similar happen to myself and all I do is squirm and whine, losing patience with myself, blaming myself, dramatizing things instead of accepting them.

What I was able to detect with so much love and understanding in this friend, I find hard to grant myself, looking at myself with a certain rigour and prejudice of how I should be, how I should act and feel. It's silly and I know it – I can see all that, I can see what I'm doing to myself and I still don't seem to be able to act accordingly.
I carry that quiet resentment, that feeling I have been done wrong, played or fooled ... that the world is unfair, concerning a certain situation iny my life. I can not even claim that I know no better, I have no apology or justification for what I'm doing to myself, I am in fact aware of how I cater to my own suffering ... so why don't I just get up and do something, help myself ..? Am I enjoying my momentary misery? I feel so tired and weary, so reluctant to act if that means I have to question myself or my reasons for suffering. Maybe I don't want to look. Or maybe it just seems so arduous or complicated to get to the bottom of things. I am drifting into some kind of inability to act, some resignation or reluctancy to come to terms with myself. Everything feels so idle right now. I feel it is all too much, too strenuous to think about it. But is it really?

I feel like everything is too much for me when really I do not have much to do at all. What do I do but sit around feeling sorry for myself? I make an attempt to get started on something then lose myself in some moment in time, lose my relationship with time and reality and before I know, hours have passed and I still sit there – none the wiser. Later ... always later.

Outside it's dark all the time, or so it feels. It's grey and wet and cold. I miss the colours. I know it doesn't make sense. They won't come back until spring, so why quarrel with reality? And yet, there is a certain mood in the air and it gets at me. Winter depression. I detect it in almost everybody around me right now and I take up the mood. Again, knowing it's stupid to harm myself by doing it. I know better than that. But ... always but.

I guess I will just have to stop typing and start looking and acting. Come face to face with reality. Stop wasting precious time ... sorry for whining like that ....

The Wonderful Wizard

my wonderful wizard grew weary
of life, the world and the wife
leaving him flat, always wanting,
looking for more ...

go! fill that god-sized hole
with another willing victim
a sweet enchanting soul
sharing your chocolate kisses
your dream of love beyond belief

ah, and yet
just another face in the crowd
beautiful, but ...
is it real?
just another online dreamer
prepared to be fooled

pick them out
suck them up
drain them out

leave them emptihanded
but leave – always just leave
nothing is real here
nothing is yours
run home to mommy
she'll pay your bill
take you back – tuck you in
she always does
leaving you flat but provided

how much of a gift
can you really afford to give?

Anam Cara – Communion of Soul to Soul

In the Celtic tradition, there is a beautiful understanding of love and friendship. The old Irish term Anam Cara is translated as soul friend. When one has an Anam Cara, they are joined in an ancient and eternal way with the person who is a friend to their soul.

"Relationships with an anam cara are not made but rather seemingly unfold or are discovered. The anam cara relationship is the awakening of a friendship in which the anam cara sees you as your highest, most beautiful self and with whom you may share the intimacies of your spiritual journey through life. An anam cara may or may not be physically present in your life to serve in that role."

The desert

I've been back for quite a while now and still find it difficult to write anything coherent. There are bits and pieces, single thoughts and reflections, but it seems impossible to write any kind of fluent itinerary concerning my time in the desert. I feel like a lot has happened and changed ever since I went there – and since I have last posted in this blog – but I couldn't name it, really. There are hardly any visible changes, it's more subtle, almost impossible to figure out, even for myself. It's as if the desert perturbed me, messed me up, but in a positive way. Going there has proved a most valuable experience and even though I've spent a relatively short time in the Sinai desert and mountains, it was so much more intense and impressive than any of my other travels so far. The desert made me see a lot of things in a totally different light. There were plenty of wonderful experiences that left me with a somewhat changed perception of the world in several aspects.

Forgive me if my following writing is going to be all jumbled and confused, I haven't yet found a way to put the desert into orderly words (especially not in English) and probably it's a futile effort ... I guess I shouldn't even try but somehow I want to share my impressions and maybe a tiny little bit will still come across and give you a slight insight into what it was like to be there ...

(My favourite valley in the Sinai desert)

When I decided to go into the desert it wasn't mainly because I was looking for a deeper meaning of life or new insights. I also expected the whole thing to be as much of an adventure trip as a spiritual journey. I wasn't searching, but willing to find and be found, to come across things without purpose ... whatever life would decide to provide me with – or put into my way – I was prepared to deal with. I didn't so much want to 'discover' as to 'uncover' what was already there. The only intention I had was to challenge myself, to defy and allay my subliminal fears and bring back to life those things inside me that had become forgotten over the years, numbed by routine, comfort and safety thinking. I wanted to regain access to my natural energies and intuition and felt that the desert might be just the right place to try to do that.

(An especially beautiful multicoloured uromastyx – spiny-tailed lizard)

Despite being extremely curious and keen to discover this mysterious place, fascinating me beyond explanation, I was still pretty scared of what might expect me there. The thought of sleeping under the open sky, without any shelter made me feel kind of awkward ... sandstorms ... the heat ... cold nights ... the thought of all possible creepy-crawly animals, insects and reptiles ... uaargh! Telling myself that I would certainly survive all that, as others have before me, I avoided to think any more than necessary about snakes or the notorious scorpion. But there were other doubts instead ... I had but a vague notion of the Bedouins ... wild and untamed people I'd have to come to terms with ... what would they cook, how would we communicate ... how would I manage to ride a camel – so many tiny yet slightly disturbing worries! You see, I wasn't all pleasant anticipation as my departure drew near, my courage slightly faltered during those last few days ...


(The immense heat around noon blurred all images, making them seem unreal and fugitive ...)

Once there, the desert quickly lost it's horrors. What scared me so much in advance felt just natural being there. Inavoidable, for there were no choices or alternatives anyway. I'd have to accept whatever would occur and try to make the best of it. Like many other problems, the things that made me so nervous in advance, became simple facts in the deserts, to be considered rather than be afraid of. I felt so much at peace, so centered and genuine from the first moment I got there – calm and quiet inside ... no more worries, no more wishes ... everything seemed to be just right, consistent and wholesome. I've never felt so much at home inside myself. All the sorrows back home lost their meaning and were put back into the right proportions. There was nothing to be solved. I completely lost my usual urge to 'take care' of things, being overactive in trying to control them. In an almost buddhist manner I realized that if I just took certain things for what they were – facts instead of problems – they'd probably lose a lot of their impact. I became aware of how often I created my own problems by fighting the facts – the reality of things – instead of accepting what was beyond my influence. How useless ... and how much healthier to just let go of the resistance!


(Waking up under the open sky ... every morning had it's special magic ...)

So, what was the desert like ..? Instead of providing me with the adventure and excitement I had expected to find – snakes, scorpions and all kinds of outer extremes – it proved to be a quite different, more miraculous and mediating experience with an enormously healing effect. Challenging in a quite different way than I had thought before. It was full of things impossible to be foreseen ... where I expected monotonous routines there were umpteen unpredictable moments instead. One can not conquer the desert, or force anything, the only satisfying way is to attune one's own rhythm to that of the desert and with a bit of luck, it'll freely share it's energy. It's been such a precious gift, to be allowed to experience the unbelievable power and strength of the Sinai, the vast stillness, the immense peacefulness, the curative force of this place and it's people, the Arab Bedouins ... so strange and alien to me in the beginning, so dear and familiar after all in the end.



(Bedouin household – baking bread on an open fire in the living room ...)

How much heart and humour is in this people, how much courage and curiosity, love and laughter, tolerance and respect. How little do they meet the cliché we have of the Arab people. Traveling and living with the tribe of the Tarabin was quite an enriching experience. The time I spent with my 'desert family' (consisting of me, six Bedouins and two Bavarian friends) left a lasting impression. I don't think my heart and soul have ever been in such close communion before. I wouldn't have thought something like this to be possible, such an overwhelming anam cara feeling, a real 'epiphany'.




(The desert sure was adventurous, breathtakingly beautiful and very impressive – but it was also a lot of fun ... playing innocent children's games with the Bedouins, joining in their singing and dancing ...)




The Sinai is an unbelievably beautiful place, and yet – as any other desert – never to be understimated. One need not fear or dread the desert, but certainly one has to respect it. It's easy to forget about the dangers, taking them too lightly after a couple of good days, but despite being quite impressive and admirable, the desert regularly reminds you to take it seriously, sending a sudden sandstorm, unexpected rain, terrible heat, it definitely has it's ways ... and yet it has so much to offer, to enjoy and be grateful for. It's powerful and peaceful at once. There's so much beauty and variety there, so much life ... I'd never have expected to find in a desert of all possible places. If you walk and ride with your mind open and willing to see, it's a magical place.



I guess people either love or hate the desert, there's nothing much in between. I couldn't help but fall in love with the desert, it captured my heart and my soul and I'll never be able to forget it or leave it quite behind. A part of me seems to have remained in the desert, leaving me restless for it's peace and beauty, forcing me to come back, again and again. Yes, it does take a little of your soul ... but in exchange you carry a bit of the desert inside yourself, taking it's peacefulness with you, wherever you go after leaving it.

(That tiny little figure with the orange headscarf is me, contemplating and enjoying the unbelievable stillness all around)

Planned or not, the desert really relieved me of most of the ballast, the unnecessary luggage that I carried inside myself. Just like I had been told in advance, it was getting lighter with every step I went further into the depth of the Sinai.
"Water may wash your body, but the desert cleans your soul ..." that's what the Bedouins say ... and also "Somewhere in between laughing and playing lies the remedy for an injured soul" and they're right, I guess.




"Traveling broadens the horizon ..." my grandma used to say – and it does, if one travels with an open heart. How different has it been in the past, when I traveled with merely my eyes wide open, taking not much more than flat pictures with me, too scared of the unknown to try to experience what is beyond my own reality. However picturesque those images may have been, they never became alive the way things do ever since I changed my attitude towards life, towards the world and it's people. Where there used to be frozen images are now lively memories:

... vibrant silence, the breath of the earth, the sound of the stars, ringing like a million bells at night ... to imagine that even the vast endlessness of the universe consists of the infinitely small ... just like the mighty desert consists of tiny grains of sand ... hundreds of different shades and colours, changing with every moment ... desert time ... so different from our occidental time ... flowing like liquid, like sweet thick honey ... sticky and yet fugitive ... timelessness ... no need to measure the minutes, hours, or days ... steps, camel rides, tea breaks ... everything is more important than hours, in this kingdom of light and colours ... of indescribable magic ... the Sinai desert.


(Sometimes even the camels joined us in our meditations ...)

Anam Cara Friendship (John O'Donohue)

John O'Donohue says:

"In everyone's life there is a great need for an Anam Cara, a soul friend. In this love, you are understood as you are without mask or pretension. The superficial and functional lies and half-truths of acquaintance fall away. You can be as you really are. Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home. Understanding nourishes belonging. When you really feel understood, you feel free to release yourself into the trust and shelter of the other person's soul.

A way of explaining friendship is that between two people friendship awakened. It wasn't manufactured or produced or programmed, but it awakened between them in their meeting. It was almost as if an ancient affinity that was latent in their spirit comes awake and comes alive, and that each is joined in an ancient way with a friend of their soul. People say that friends are made. I don't think friends are made at all, but rather discovered. If you look back along your life, you will see that at the crucial thresholds, different people were sent to you to help you acknowledge what was going on, to recognize your own responsibility, and to bring you over thresholds. The most creative growth points in our inner journey are all due to the assistance, graciousness and surprise that friendship brings.

Friendship has a secret logic and a secret destiny. Something that's startling about one's friends is that the first meeting was so contingent and so seemingly accidental; and yet, if you look back now, your life would be unimaginable without the friends who have helped to shape you and give birth to your soul. To put it more pictorially still, it's utterly fascinating to me that no human person ever sees their own face. We look in mirrors and we have images, but we never see our own faces. And we never see our own bodies fully either. A friend is a true mirror in which we begin to get some little glimpse of who we are and the immensity that we carry - and that sometimes haunts us. Friendship is the shelter; and it's not a complacent shelter but a shelter that settles some primal restlessness down within us. It liberates us to get into the dance of our own life."

Always remember ...

"Paths only come into being by walking them ..." (Franz Kafka)

Lilli goes to the desert ...

Here I am again – I know I've made myself pretty scarce lately, but there was just so much to plan and organize and a lot of work, leaving little time for anything else.
I'm almost gone, leaving for the desert tomorrow, my bag is packed and whenever I look at it I find it hard to believe that's all I'm gonna take with me, wondering at the same time if I'll really need all that stuff. But since I had been given a packing list I'll just trust in it to be all right. What do I take with me? A sleeping bag, an inflatable mat, alarmingly few clothes, and a whole lot of tiny yet seemingly indispensable stuff, like torches, a swiss army knife, a compass, a variety of cords and straps for whatever reasons ... I guess I'll find out once I'm there. I have sold my car yesterday, I guess I'll miss it whenever I'm back but for now I won't need it and decided not to worry too much, I couldn't really afford it anyway.

Every now and then I wonder what came over me when I decided to make this journey ... going into the desert. Why I suddenly felt such a strong need to experience the vast stillness, the brooding solitude and fierce beauty of the desert, see the indescribably starry sky, feel the stinging heat at daytime and the biting cold at nighttime. My sudden desire to meet the people who live there, spending all their lives under these circumstances, so unreal and inconceivable from my central european point of view. Now I'm going to the Sinai desert, travelling with the Bedouin people, the tribe of the Tarabin. Apart from me there'll be two other european travellers, meditation teachers. I haven't met them before but we have been exchanging e-mails and I'm pretty much looking forward to meeting them in Egypt. It's going to be quite an adventure for me, sleeping out in the open all the time, no tent or shelter except the heaven's tent, the enormous sky above me. We are going to have camels to carry the bigger part of our equipment (and us, whenever we feel like riding a camel). Right now I don't see myself doing that, but you'll never know ... maybe I'll end up enjoying it after all! In the evenings the Bedouin will prepare the camp fire and cook a simple meal and I'm full of anticipation for all those new experiences, the impressions, the possible insights and perceptions.

Talking to people who have been travelling through the desert before, they all agree in one thing: nobody comes back unchanged. The desert is said to have a purifying effect, clarifying the thoughts, putting things back into the right proportions. Not just sorrows and problems but also our own ego. They say it's not the equipment you carry into the desert that is your main luggage. It's the mental luggage we carry and the camels can't help us with that. But normally it's the luggage that will get easier to carry with every day and hopefully it can be left in the desert, so we travel home a lot lighter ... Well, I wonder – but I'll just let things happen and see for myself.

I won't have any chance to write here for some time now but I'll carry my little notebooks and tell you about it later, inshallah ...

Take care, ma'as salaama!

Bad habits ...

I really came here to finish a post I've been starting to write weeks ago. After writing a couple of sentences though, I heard there was a new text message on my cellphone and went to fetch it. Rising from my chair I suddenly felt all giddy, like my head was spinning. It took a while until everything turned back from black to normal and I sat there wondering what had caused this qualm when I realized I had not eaten anything but a few crackers for almost 48 hours. Can you believe it, I had simply forgotten to eat – again! I remember having thought about preparing some kind of lunch for myself yesterday but being all absorbed in what I was doing, I didn't want to stop and postponed the idea. Later the hunger must have ceased for I really do not remember having wasted another thought on eating ever since. When I got up this morning my mind was already so filled with ideas and plans for the day, I never thought of breakfast. There might have been the slightest notion that something was missing, I admit, but I didn't feel hungry at all and so I postponed eating, once more.
This tends to happen a lot to me lately and I'm sure it's a really bad habit, especially as I'm already a very poor 'drinker'. I never feel thirsty and as a result I forget to drink. Often I'll realize at night that I haven't nearly drunk the liter of water or tea that I intended to (I know it's still too little but all I manage most of the time). This goes so far that several people send me text messages, reminding me to drink. Like the one I had just stood up for. It was my mother asking whether I'm drinking sufficiently. What am I to tell her? "Well thanks, mom! Yes, I have tea here, alright. But please remind me of eating, will you ...?". She'll think I have gone nuts.

I guess I'll put up notes "Intake Of Food!" for myself at significant places. The computer screen might be a good idea. Or the mirror. And maybe I should put post-its on all the books I'm reading. If I get any thinner, I'll fit into kid's apparel, which is not really my intention. This has to stop. Anybody out there with a good idea how to remind oneself of eating? Isn't the body meant to perform this by suggesting a feeling of hunger? What's wrong with me? I have once read that this happened to Albert Einstein a lot – forgetting to eat or drink, that is. Just – I'm afraid the ideas that preoccupy myself aren't half as profound ...

Okay, I'll get myself something to eat. Though the hunger is already gone again, writing. Yeah, still – I'll eat. Promise.

The Wonder of It All

Do you ever wonder
at the wonder of it all?

Do you ever stand in awe
of the tiniest things
and how perfectly they work together?

Do you ever stop to think
about all the possibilities
and how even though they have no limit
they grow in number with every minute?

Do you ever wonder
when the leaves flutter down in autumn
at the incomprehensible power of life
that brings them back in spring?

Do you watch the waves roll in
and then look out far beyond them
where the water seems to touch the sky
and realize
that the vast expanse before your eyes
is only a small little corner
of all there really is?

And do you comprehend that all there really is,
as unimaginably grand as it may seem,
is only a smaller corner still
of all that there can be?

Do you ever wonder
how love can stay alive
past every pleasure and every pain
and even when there can be no hope
there is more than ever?

Do you ever struggle to lift a heavy rock and wonder
how a massive mountain can rise
thousands of feet above the plain
without even trying?

Do you ever realize that
no matter how much you may know,
no matter how many wonders you may have experienced,
there will always, always be more?

Do you ever wonder
why it is you wonder
and why you know what beauty is
even though you can't define it?

Do you ever wonder
who is doing the wondering,
who is looking out through your eyes
and feeling completely at home
with the wonder of it all?

Whatever you believe,
whatever you profess,
whatever you doubt or fear or hope for,
there are some things
your heart cannot deny
when you let go
and let yourself know
the wonder of it all.

Copyright © 2003 Ralph S. Marston

Healing

Yes, I'm back and very much alive again. Like an injured animal I secluded myself, withdrawing into the wilderness, licking my wounds ...

Last month, when it was coming close on Christmas, I felt I just couldn't cope anymore. I abandoned work, family and friends, Christmas and New Year's Eve and escaped into the mountains, seeking quietness, seeking salvation, seeking clarity.

And I found it there – in the snow, in the silent depth of the forests, in the damp pillowy moss, lying like green carpets in the sun wherever the snow didn't reach. I found it in the beauty of the countless icicles and in the soft sound of the frozen mountain brooks, flowing on and on underneath their bizarre icy covers.
It was a different world from the summer mountains altogether, quiet and almost motionless. The snow deadened every noise with the exception of the gnashing sound of my steps and my breath. Being outside all day and in all weather, experiencing nature and realizing how everything is coherent and interdependent made me understand how this is also true for my own life. I found myself looking at all that snow and ice and water, understanding how they are all connected, how they are all one despite being different from one another, each with it's own beauty and own purpose and yet none better than or superior to each other, and I found myself looking at the bare trees, thinking of how they will start to bud again soon, nurtured by soil that was once leaves ... reflecting on nature's diversity and constant change I became aware of how this is true for everything in this world, how I am also part of this nature, subject to change, bound to it's laws and the universal principle of life: everything is subject to impermanence. And that's that. The universe won't make an exception just because it's me out there.

Trying to internalize this simple truth, raising a deeper and deeper awareness, I suddenly found I felt all peaceful and blithe. At first I didn't dare trust this new found peace of mind but the fears and worries did not return. Instead I felt so energetic again, so soulful, grateful and brimful of life.

I needed to move, I felt like dancing up the mountains but the amount of snow stopped me and finally I went ... snowshoeing! What a revelation! You get everywhere, places you wouldn't reach in the deep snow, not on foot and certainly not on ski. I managed to reach summits I had been to last summer ... and what a different sight now in the snow. I was warned beforehand not to leave certain areas to avoid disturbing the animals in their dormant, but still – everything in front of me seemed like a vast whiteness, completely quiet and devoid of human life. All I found were animal tracks and odd marks left by tiny blobs of snow, skidding down the slopes. The single snow crystals were the biggest I had ever seen, some almost the size of a fingernail, and they twinkled and sparkled like huge diamonds in the sun. Everything was so breathtakingly beautiful and I found myself filled with wonder again and again.

What can I say. I came home full of tranquility and contentment. Confidently looking forward to everything this new year will bring, all the change to the better or the worse ... I'll try to carry it with more wisdom than I managed in the past ... finally living up to my old motto:

"I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of it's own unfolding." (John O'Donohue)

Friend in doubt

Some time ago I was thinking – and writing here – about friendship. I realize that I keep coming back to this subject and I have the slightest suspicion this may be caused by a couple of situations earlier this summer, making me feel the need for honesty and loyalty in a friendship stronger than ever. There have been difficult moments with certain friends and while I considered my reactions to be justified then, I wasn’t so sure when I recalled these incidents later. I still haven’t come to a final conclusion, still find myself uncertain, still find new questions whenever I think I have the answers.

Many rash words have been spoken in the past, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, and while I wouldn’t say they were all wrong, they were certainly spoken too hastily, too impulsively to be in any way considerate. So I knew my reaction was premature but instead of questioning my own motivation I started to question the concerned relationships, looking for justification of my wrong behaviour. I felt no longer confident about these relationships, my evaluation of these friendships. I thought that maybe the difficult moments could only arise because I had read too much into these relationships, calling them friendship on a very high level, expecting too much input from the other one. I questioned these people’s friendship, their loyalty. I figured that I had reacted the way I did because I felt somewhat 'unrewarded', I felt that my input wasn’t acknowledged the way it should be and that I was giving a lot more than I was receiving in return. This thought occupied me for quite a while and finally led me to wonder whether a true friendship could ever be about expectations, about input or some kind of ’quid pro quo’ situation. This was the moment I started thinking about everything I have written under Friendship, wondering what exactly friendship means to me, what my friends mean to me.

After writing it all down, what happened was that I became much clearer about my own intentions and expectations but also about my mistakes and misconceptions regarding friendship. I could see clearly what friendship should be and what it shouldn’t be and where I needed to become more mindful, more appreciative and more selfless.

What didn’t happen was that I got rid of all my doubts. Some remained. Some friends remained 'under question', even after seeing that friendship is not about expectation, about being rewarded for what I give. It seemed to me that these friendships are somewhat unbalanced. Despite not expecting return services for my loyalty or my faith, I found that I feel uneasy if I keep on offering but am offered nothing in return. Not because of reward. It’s a question of trust, I think. If I look at friendship as being some kind of commitment, how can I listen to a friend’s thoughts, ideas, fears but hardly ever reveal any of my own, keeping my distance. Friends do not need to tell each other everything, I’m sure there are things that are not necessarily part of a friendship and sometimes there may be things one can’t talk about immediately and has to come to terms with for oneself before being able to talk about. But if I feel that there is something wrong in a friend’s behaviour, something troubling him or her, making me feel uneasy or awkward in his or her company over a prolonged time, standing between us, effecting our friendship even, and they still don’t talk to me, don’t I have a right to feel hurt?

I honestly don’t know. I just don’t find an answer. Of course I have to accept a friend’s decision not to tell me, but can I really avoid to become doubtful about such a friendship in the long run? Is it not natural that I start to question a friend if I feel that trust is not mutual in this friendship? How can I help beginning to wonder what the reasons for this may be? If I am not given any real reasons, my mind starts to make up others. I know this is wrong and I try to work on it, try to remain objective, try not to become attached to these thoughts, but it’s not easy. I see that the innocence of this friendship might get lost, so I talk to the person of my doubts but am told in return that I have no reason to worry. I want to believe this – but again, doubt arises. I look into the past to find the moment when things started to change and looking from my new perspective of doubt, I find more doubt. I find signs that it started long before I realized, I find potential untruth and I start to question more and more. I don’t trust my own perception anymore, especially as I know everything I feel is influenced by my recent loss of another person. I know that and I know it's not right, but I feel like I'm in some kind of limbo. I do not want to lose this friendship and much less do I want to harm it unjustified, a friend so dear and important in my life. A special friend. A soul friend maybe.

I have to be careful not to give too much space to this problem – 'constructing a story around it' as we call it at the buddhist center – and I’m well aware this might be just what I’m doing. Sometimes my imagination is way too vivid and I find it hard to differ between what is there in reality and what springs from my own fantasy or past experiences. The longer I let it happen, the more the borders will blur, making it more and more difficult to get back to the hard facts. Yes, a danger foreseen is half avoided – it's just so difficult to put into practice what we already know in theory, isn't it? So many obstacels to be broken ... idleness, fear, ego. And the painful experience of finding all these fears, suspicions and doubts being finally confirmed is still so fresh and hurting that it’s hard too remain objective and stop myself from projecting what happened with one friend onto another.

Despite the many words I know there is only one solution. I know I have to talk to this friend again, being open and honest about my doubts, leaving enough space for understanding and possible explanation on his part and a will to understand and believe as well as the readiness to admit to possible wrong conclusions on my part.

How do I tell a person I have – temporarily maybe – lost faith in his or her loyalty and honesty? Maybe that is the moment true friendship reveals itself, in being able to work this out, to come out even stronger of a crisis like this. Of course this is wishful thinking on my part, especially as I have just learned the hard way that it may also happen quite differently, but what else can I do but remain positive and optimistic? If I’m not, how can I see any sense in a difficult situation, a confrontation like the one I have to seek now or in the future?

"My favourite season"

Thinking about autumn and it's many different aspects, it's heady beauty, it's dignity and grandeur, I am tempted to call it 'my favourite season'.

But then I start thinking about spring and instantly recall the dazzling beauty, the lusciousness I associate with it. It's so hard to decide ... and I find myself thinking: Maybe it's rather spring, that is my favourite season?

Until I remember the many things I loved about last summer and suddenly start to wonder: Isn't summer a season I love so much, maybe even my favourite of all the seasons?... It's opulence, it's radiant beauty, I surely wouldn't want to miss that?

Especially as the above are just the aspects necessary to provide an apt contrast to everything I love about winter ... it's austere beauty, it's frosty elegance. Because winter, you know, might just be ... my favourite season.
...

(Smiling, sighing ... I'll just drop the unnecessary comparative here.)

I vaguely recall a poem by some Chinese Zen master on this very subject but must admit that I remember only the first few lines ... hold on, I'll try to find the book ..!

(5 min. later)

I got it, here it is:

---

Ten thousand flowers in spring,
the moon in autumn,
a cool breeze in summer,
snow in winter.

If your mind isn't clouded
by unnecessary things,
this is the best season of your life.

(Wu Men)

Friendship

Brooding once again, still contemplating human relations – friendship and it's different aspects, effects, implications and correlations ... occupying my mind for weeks now.

I realized that I never really thought about friendship in the past and that despite certainly appreciating my friends I somehow took them for granted for a very long time. I never really cared a lot about friendship. I don't mean to say that I do not care about the people who are my friends – of course I care about them – what I mean is that I never cared much about finding friends. If it happened, it was fine, but if it didn't – well, it didn't bother me too much. Being much of a loner anyway, I never measured my popularity with people by the number of friends I had. When I was younger I often looked at having a lot of friends as being a bit of a burden, a strain. People bugging me, stealing precious time I'd rather spend by myself. Quite selfish maybe, I know, but what can I say – that's the way it was. It's different now. I'm grateful I have my friends and I wouldn't want to miss any of them, however different from one another they may be. I feel they are all genuine in their very own way.

But what exactly does friendship mean, what does it mean to have a friend, to be a friend? Does it mean the same for everyone of us? I found that Europeans use the terms 'friend' and 'friendship' quite different from Americans for example. While in many European countries 'friend' is a status granted to a rather small number of people only, typically describing a very close long-term relationship, clearly distinguished from the more superficial and non-committal 'acquaintanceship', Americans often use the term 'friend' more freely and general. So, just to avoid misunderstanding: when I use the term friendship here, I understand it in the 'traditional' European sense of the word, a relationship based on esteem, trust, loyalty and mutual understanding. It may contain a certain emotional intimacy but not in a sexual context.

Some of us, especially the younger ones, use the term 'friend' rather easily, while others have quite a struggle with that expression. Special friendships – those that stand out of the big pool of different relationships we build up over the years – are very rare. Most of us have a whole variety of interpersonal relations and I want to draw a clear line between mere acquaintanceship and real friendship here, leaving out relatives as well. Parents and siblings may have a lot of influence on us, especially as we grow up, but they are not what I am thinking about at the moment.

Who are the people we call our friends and why do we call them that? What does the expression 'friend' mean to us and in how far do our various 'friendships' differ from one another? Friends, true friends, close friends, best friends – we distinguish between so many different kinds of friends and while most women seem to be quite particular about these distinctions, many men seem to avoid the term 'friend' altogether, prefering to call their friends 'mates', 'buddies' or 'lads' instead. I think the average modern male friendship has little in common with classic or antique concepts of friendship between men. At least in our western world it is often complicated by social manipulation, conditioning and – as a result – subliminal homophobia. I do not want to imply that there is no real friendship between men, I just think it's rare. And the rarest of all seems to be sincere and lasting friendship between male and female, friendship independent of gender, based not on romantic or sexual aspects but on mutual understanding and a deep confidence in each other.
In native Hawaii they have a concept of friendship known as pili hoaloha – a devoted, platonic union between members of the same or opposite sex, a commitment between two friends, reaching it's climax in a ceremonial act not unlike a wedding. Pili hoaloha goes much deeper than our modern understanding of friendship, it's more like a 'cohabitation of soul friends'. The Hawaiians do also have ceremonies for 'normal' sexual marriages of course, but they clearly differ between these.

If I get more particular and start to focus just on what we call our best friends, isn't it surprising how different from one another they still are? What is it that attracts our interest in a certain person, that makes us feel congenial with him or her, raises enough emotion, enough affection and confidence in us to want to be friends with this person? What is it that creates the foundation for a future friendship? Is it shared experience? A person's appearance? Charisma? Or a certain quality in that person? Are we trying to supply a want, an unsatisfied need in ourselves by making friends with somebody, giving in to a subliminal selfish interest? And if we are, are we honest enough to admit to this, trying to understand what's driving us? Maybe it's a blend of all those aspects in different shares. It might vary from person to person and even within one friendship the focus might shift over the years, as friendship grows, developes and changes with us.

Thinking of friendship in the purest sense of the word, the term altruism comes to my mind. How many of our friends do we love unselfishly, without regard to reward or benefit for ourselves? I dare say that most of us are far from a sublime virtue like that: wholeheartedly loving a person not for his or her qualities, skills or attributes, but simply for being a fellow human being. Sometimes we experience a short glimpse of that altruism, feeling some kind of abstract love, of Metta or loving kindness, a sudden concern for the well-being of a person beyond rational understanding or selfish interest. But normally our motives are not quite so unselfish. When we say we miss someone, normally we mean that we miss that person's company. We miss that friend in our life. If we're honest with ourselves we'll recognize it as the selfish wish to be provided with what we lack in ourselves. The more friends we have with a certain quality, the less we will miss any one of them but if a certain interest is shared with only one friend, we will miss him or her very quickly. When we are bored, we miss the entertainment, the diversion or amusement this person offers. Or we miss the safety, the strength this friend provides whenever we feel weak. Many of the people we call our friends we call so simply because we share some kind of interest. It's more like a syndicate than a real friendship. If one of the involved parties starts to change, developes or redirects his or her interests, we may find that we have nothing else in common and often such a friendship will just fizzle out.

All this (and a lot more) went through my head, trying to define the meaning of the word 'friendship' for myself. While all this thinking opened my eyes for some aspects I hadn't really regarded so far, I realized that there will probably be 'friendships' that might not stand up to it in the long run, that will remain mere acquaintanceships despite calling them friendship and I accepted the fact that it just makes no sense to constantly question whether or not some friendship is a true and stable one in the purest sense of the word.

We need friends to master this life. We need people who share our interests, who listen to us, who understand and care for us. And in return, being friends, we fulfill this need in others. Only now have I come to understand that the people from whom we receive these gifts do not necessarily have to be the people to whom we offer them in return. One man's teacher might be another's scholar, every scholar might be another's teacher. Life changes all the time, people and situations change, nothing can ever be final or constant. Also, every friendship consists of at least two people and even if I am sure about my own motifs, I'll never know about the other's. I have to trust. That's part of the concept of friendship I think – confidence and trust.

I might feel a lot of friendly affection for somebody and still this person might not return my feelings, which will hurt me – because of my still too alive ego – but shouldn't change my feelings for that person. Friendship - as love - should be about giving, not receiving, in the first place. I am well aware that it's pretty hard to practice altruism and that I'll probably never manage to be completely altruistic. It's illusory. I am far from reaching the ideal of complete unselfishness but that doesn't mean I stop trying. I'll try not to lessen those of my friendships that seem somewhat 'minor' to others – less intense maybe, less exciting, less intellectual – and I'll try to stop judging by what benefits I gain myself. As long as these friends have an interest in seeing me, I should keep in mind that they might just judge the very same friendship completely different. Looking back on my life so far, I must admit that sometimes my 'best friends' didn't necessarily prove to be 'true friends'. Sometimes the true friends were people I didn't even count among my closer friends. And I might not be my best friend's 'best friend' (ego beware!). So I guess there's not much of a point in all this labelling and classifying after all. A friend can only be a friend if I let him in, if I do not judge in advance, if I accept his or her friendship and do not shut myself off.

And while my mind starts to go even further here, toward a yet different kind of friendship – spiritual friendship – I think I'll grant us a little break. I'm really, really tired now, writing for hours on end, as usual.

I'll be back some time soon, so ... good night!

A Gardener's Life

"In his or her life, each person can take one of two attitudes: to build or to plant.

Builders may take years over their tasks, but one day they will finish what they are doing. Then they will stop, hemmed in by their own walls. Life becomes meaningless once the building is finished.

Those who plant suffer the storms and the seasons and rarely rest. Unlike the building, a garden never stops growing. And by its constant demands on the gardener's attentions, it makes the gardener's life a great adventure."

(Paulo Coelho, 'Brida')

Autumn

I can hardly believe it, but it's already autumn again. We switched the clocks to winter time, finally admitting to the shorter, darker days. And as much as the autumn is a time of acknowledgement and gratitude, a time of 'Thanksgiving' in so many aspects, feeling grateful for all the different harvests - literal or symbolic – that we may have brought in over the year, it's also a time to gather ourselves and strengthen our spirits in preparation for the passage into Winter ...

Yes, yes and yes - all of you sending me text messages, e-mails, talking on my answering machine or whatever other way you chose in trying to contact me, I know it was in vain. And again yes, you are right ... I am a slightly faithless friend these days. I am sorry. I really am. It's not like I don't think of you all, I do, quite often to be honest. I just never seem to get down to show a sign of life - but I assure you, I am still here! Very much so. Please don't be angry, don't be cross, I feel I just need a little time-out right now. Some of you know this already, I need my times of retreat from everything I normally do and everybody I normally see, it's not personal in any way and I don't mean to offend anybody by not returning your calls or not answering your messages.

If I say I need to retreat from everything, maybe I'm giving a wrong impression. It's not a retreat from everyday life (as much as I'd like that). Not like the meditation retreats I take. It's rather an attempt to take 'one thing at a time', focusing on certain aspects of my life only, trying to get a few things done properly instead of halfheartedly leaving a lot unfinished. I spend a lot of time at the buddhist center, meditating, studying, learning, taking in a whole lot of new knowledge and impetus, absorbing it and reflecting on it when I'm not there. I decided to give it more time, spend more time at the center as well, because I realized that just going there every now and then, practicing only when I find the time, didn't prove to be very successful. So for the moment I put it in the center of my life and arrange everything else around it until I feel more 'grounded', rooted in what I hopefully learn to understand more deeply and finally may become able to make a genuine part of my life.

Meanwhile, life is going on as usual, faster than I want maybe. But that's the way it is, it just happens and I flow with it.

So what's new? ... Well, the roof problem is getting into crunch mode, about to be solved I hope, as I really couldn't avoid it any longer. In the end, it got more expensive than I hoped (but probably still cheaper than it might have become). I don't know about these things, I never owned more than 2.000 Euros and everything above 5.000 Euros certainly seems a fortune to me. The roof will cost twice that amount, leaving me speechless and kind of paralyzed. I think I've told you that the bank refused to give me the money and that I really didn't know how to advance after that. After a lot of talking to my relatives, an uncle agreed to lend me the money if I assign the house for security. I did – but happy as I am to get the roof repaired now, I'm also quite worried about how I will ever pay him back. It's so much money. We didn't talk about the period of time he'll grant me to repay him or about the exact amount of my monthly installments, so I can just hope he is realistic enough to realize that it will probably take years and years. Anyway, fact is that I'll have a new roof on the house before christmas (I hope). That in mind - and ample relief in my heart - I try not to think about that unpleasant money thing too much. After all, it's only money ...

What else can I tell you. I fell in love. And out of love. And in again. I don't quite know what to make of it myself. It's all very complicated and I don't think I'm through with the subject yet, still trying to find clarity. Can I control whether or not I have my heart broken? I'm not sure. I guess what I'm trying to do is reducing the risk, cutting my losses. Letting my intellect rule over my emotion. Waiting what life has to add ... I guess it will have it's say in this after all. And probably the final one ...

I'm still having a busy time thinking about friendships, relationships of all kinds. Working on some of them, feeling fine with some others, testing here, questioning there. How does this go with not getting back to most of my friends, you might ask. Well, I'm not sure. Maybe it's about reducing risks as well. Or about trying to remain focused, trying not to take too much at a time. The way I tend to scrutinize everything right now, maybe it's better that way, keeping those friendships out that I do not regard to be on the 'doubtful side'. If you find that I make myself very scarce these days, you're probably one of those friends I feel confident with. Confident enough to trust that you'll understand or at least tolerate my momentary retreat from everything. I don't want to imply that I take any of your friendship for granted. Very much the opposite is the case. I am grateful that I have a couple of friends who provide a certain 'constant' in my life and who allow me to fall back on.

Please remain patient and grant me a little more time. I'll be back soon, I promise!

Gossamer Days

Last weekend, early in the morning, I decided to go for a walk up the vineyard, still covered in fog and dew. I regarded the grapes – they are abundant this year – when I realized there were cobwebs literally everywhere. Hundreds and hundreds of them, absolutely intriguing. The sun was just about to break through and the dew formed little shimmering pearls on every one of those fragile spider webs, as if somebody had strung beads all over the vineyard.
At that moment I felt really sorry I had no camera, it was so beautiful and I wanted to capture that moment for my friends to share. In the end I took some 'scanty' pictures with my mobile phone …

It's a pity blogger reduces the photos, because you can't really make out the single pearls of dew the way you can in the real photo. But still, it gives you an impression. And you can always click to enlarge the photos I think ...

Isn't this a wonderful time ..? The soft sun, the dew, the colours, the cobwebs, the wind and - sometimes a bit irritating - those fine strands of baby spider's webs, 'gossamer' I think they are called. I remember my grandma in Connecticut calling certain mild autumn days 'Gossamer Days' because of that, but I'm not sure if it's a common expression? These almost invisible baby webs are floating around everywhere now and when the sun is low they'll catch the light, looking like very fine strands of silvery white hair, reminding me of why the Germans call this time Altweibersommer, 'Old Wive's Summer', which – in turn – reminds me of my grandmother ...

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Im Herbst

Der schöne Sommer ging von hinnen,
Der Herbst, der reiche, zog ins Land.
Nun weben all die guten Spinnen
So manches feine Festgewand.

Sie weben zu des Tages Feier
Mit kunstgeübtem Hinterbein
Ganz allerliebste Elfenschleier
Als Schmuck für Wiese, Flur und Hain.

Ja, tausend Silberfäden geben
Dem Winde sie zum leichten Spiel,
Die ziehen sanft dahin und schweben
Ans unbewußt bestimmte Ziel.

Sie ziehen in das Wunderländchen,
Wo Liebe scheu im Anbeginn,
Und leis' verknüpft ein zartes Bändchen
Den Schäfer mit der Schäferin.

(Wilhelm Busch)

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In Autumn

The lovely summer has been leaving,
and with its wealth arrived the fall.
The spiders are all kindly weaving
fine garments for the festival.

They're weaving for the celebration,
with hindlegs practiced in the trade,
the veils of elves as decoration
for hill and dale and mead and glade.

Yes, thousand silver threads donated
into the wind, to turn and bend,
are softly drifting where they're fated
to an unconscious, settled end.

They're drifting toward a fairy landing
where love commences shy caress
and softly ties, with silken banding,
the shephard to the shephardess.

(Wilhelm Busch)

Separation

Separation

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its color

(W.S. Merwin)

Coping ... happily

Yes, I know, haven't written much lately. There's so much happening right now that I'd hardly know where to start. My time is all filled up with life's unfolding and me trying to keep pace and the days just pass without leaving any space for writing.

Things are changing, things are happening, things are developing, things are ending. It's hard to sort it all out but I think I am coping quite well so far. It is a difficult but also challenging time concerning relationships. Some are ending, some are growing, some are just being developed and others are redeveloped. It's an inspiring and confusing time in terms of spiritual growth. It's an exciting time concerning every little bit of myself, my life, in every respect.

I have come out of retreat only last weekend and while I feel quite peaceful and happy, I also feel very much alert and all my senses seem to be sharpened and I have to be careful not to get myself into a state of sensory and emotional overload. I'm trying to start off slow now, dealing with everything that happens one by one, which is not always easy, things tend to happen just in their own time and more often than not, all at once. They sure do at the moment ... yet I am determined not to let that impress or rush me, I know that no good will come from it if I do.

Ever since I'm back to intensive meditation, on retreat but also in daily life, it's been getting easier to cope with things. Seeing clearer, acting more aware again. I know that I have made an unhappy decision when I let it slide over the summer. I haven't practiced long enough and I am not stable enough to deal with occurring problems all by myself without the help of meditation and spiritual friends and teachers. I fell back into my old patterns and old habits and found it harder and harder to be mindful in everyday life. I started to feel lost and helpless and overwhelmed by life and I guess some of my friends and other people around me had to suffer from my frustration and mindlessness. I missed the vivid exchange, the generous sharing of interests, thoughts and teachings, the spiritual stimulus that I now experience with friends and teachers at the buddhist center. Going there is a real inspiration for my practise and strengthening me in everyday life, also enriching my friendships 'outside' I believe.

Considering what I have just said, thinking it over again, I find that everything I do right now, in one way or another, has to do with relationship. In several different aspects. Relationships, friendships, past and present, have very much influenced me on my path and now I find that it kind of reverberates, that the course my path takes influences my relationships, or rather me and the way I relate to people – which is not the same I think, but probably comes down to the same in the end.

My most personal challenge lately is the community-conscious togetherness that I experience at the buddhist center. I am really the typical loner, happy and content all by myself and more often than not I find being with others quite a strain. There are moments when the close company of people may cause both physical and mental stress in me, resulting in feelings of panic, circulation problems, being unable to breathe, attacks of sweating, heavy headaches, stuff like that. What I used do in order to avoid this was – quite simply – avoiding company. Sure, I had a couple of close friends and a few family members that I still managed to see on a regular basis and normally without any problems, but even with them I never really felt tempted to spend a longer time. My maximum tolerance limit in being with somebody (when there is no possibility to avoid one another) is maybe three days. But depending on my general condition, at times a single evening may be too much. After a certain time my ability to socialise just declines rapidly and I start to feel under pressure, harassed, ill at ease. It's more difficult the more people are associated. Big Parties are almost impossible. Gatherings of any kind are pure horror for me, especially if I am expected to play an active role, be present, take part. It's not like I am shy, at least not more than is normal and healthy. It's different. I feel like my energy is being sucked off me, like the need to converse, to be present, exhausts me beyond my strengths. I really need to be by myself then. Centre myself, collect my thoughts, gain some kind of mental balance again. The day after such events I always feel extremely tired and worn out.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like this is happening all the time. Normally I'm just fine when I am with people for a couple of hours, for a single day or even longer, as long as there is enough space for me to withdraw at certain times. The normal living-together in a house or big appartment, like with a family or in a relationship, is not really a problem. It's only in situations of being too close together, when people leave no room for me to draw back, force their company on me, that it becomes a problem. It's been the reason I have been avoiding people for a very long time. Loosing a lot of friends for want of input from my side. Finding it hard to make new friends for fear of possible panic attacks and the need to explain to a stranger what I do not quite understand myself.

Sometime ago, after describing it to a friend and for the first time becoming completely aware of it myself, I decided that it cannot go on like that. That I have to work on this problem, find out why it happens, when it happens and what the reasons may be. I could go on about it here but I will spare you the details. I have come to some conclusions and I have my own theories to part of the problem by now, but most important, I think that I'm slowly progressing.
Situations like now during the retreat (and this was not a solely silent retreat, there were periods of prolonged silence as well as periods of intense emotional exchange), sharing a room with strangers, being together day and night ... that simply wouldn't have been possible a short while ago, while now I actually find myself feeling perfectly comfortable, even missing this 'togetherness' to a certain degree. Well, I must admit that at one point though, during a very early meditation, I had a slight relapse, starting to panic, starting to sweat and feeling dizzy all of a sudden. But I'm not sure if it had anything to do with my old problem or if it's just been a 'normal' circulation problem, due to the early hour, an empty stomach and a slightly too strong scent of 'Nag Champa' in an overheated room (for now, I'll blame it on the latter).
One thing that makes a huge difference is whether or not I can relate to people, if there is a certain point of identification, of mutual understanding. The first time I realized I can cope was in Austria. Even if it wasn't as intense as my recent experience, I still could relate to the people of that hiking-group, just not quite as wholeheartedly maybe. I managed to spend whole days with that group, which for me was already quite an achievement, yet I think I couldn't have shared a room with any of them, I still needed a certain physical distance.
I find that in the end, it all comes down to a question of trust and understanding. If I really trust in somebody and feel that there is a certain understanding between me and that person, I will be fine. Because somebody who really tends to understand me and my motives (and I don't mean on an intellectual level but rather from an intuitive emotional level) will automatically leave me enough space to withdraw mentally if I need it, however restricted the spacial or physical circumstances may be. As soon as I feel there is mutual understanding, I trust and feel free and at ease with this person.

It was a completely new experience for me to discover that I do not necessarily find this quality primarily in people I have known for a long time, but that if I look in the right places, look the right way, I might find it in others as well. People I have just met may carry this quality. So the secret seems to be in looking, in searching and in letting it happen. It doesn't help if I withdraw myself from the world, protecting myself from people. I shouldn't look so much on what I want to avoid but on what I want to find. That's what I'm doing right now, open myself, for potential friends, for companions on my way through this life. They may be old and they may be new. Discovered or rediscovered, I think I'll have to develope a whole new way of looking at people and while some relationships may surprise me in a positive way, others may not stand the test. Sometimes I'll hurt, sometimes I'll be scared, sometimes I'll shine with happiness and every now and then I'll still be hazed by doubt, but all the time ... I have a feeling that it's worthwhile, a feeling of contentment and gratitude, that this may be my path ...