Abyss

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I’m in front of a deep abyss. only a little bit surprised that the thrown stone didn’t trailed off somewhere near the ground but continues falling aimlessly, groundless.
Everything seemed neutral to me – worthless or worthwhile.
Like Tom Hanks in the finale of “Cast Away”: Standing at the crossroad, questioning look and this incredible emptiness. Without attachment. If you are dead or alive, it’s one and the same.
If you are a dustman or a doctor, there’s no difference. if you are a priest or a pauper, only an anchorless questionmark. Without an emotional anchorage, without affection.
Only a bland emptiness is laboring through my emotional apparatus.

silent

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These days after my illness I have a curious feeling of being in a kind of an open loop: Relaxing maybe is the wrong expression. Let’s put it this way: I hear much more during the day. I have arranged my books. Arranging, putting things in order but not obsessive, has a calming effect on me. Also empty rooms. I slowly get my peace back. Like a pendulum which is standing still after strong oscillations. Now I have fewer duties, which I could use as pretense to escape from silence. The tours to the shopping-centers have finished. I admit, that my living room and my bedroom look like niches of ikea.

After a long time I started meditating again. Sitting in front of a white wall. My bedroom has no pictures, and I’m not going to change that. So I’m sitting here, looking at the white wall, with a border of beech skirting board, on a black pillow, under it a black blanket, which is lying on the timber flooring, and I stay sitting. My hands are lying together, my attention is on my mind, my breath and I’m trying to be totally present – and I’m listening.

Silence compresses itself in front of my ears, I can nearly hear it. Through the closed windows I hear like the rush of a river the muffled sound of passing cars. In the other flat someone is closing a cabinet door. Slowly my calves are falling asleep. In the living room the alarm clock goes off, time is up. (2006)

Followers

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You let yourself strike twice.
You give away your last shirt.
You look after the lost.
Your crown is not of gold.
Your throne is the street.
Your hands and your heart are broken.

How can we then live differently than sheep among wolves?

Spirituality (Free Ebook)

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To keep your identity in the fast, loud dog-eat-dog society it’s most important to discover and to cultivate your inner life. We are torn between Instagram, Facebook and Millions of images and opinions. To hear my own voice again it’s absolute necessary to go into silence.

Here I show you a way – my way – to develop your own spirituality. We have much more to offer – and intuitively we know that – as a nice face and fancy clothes. The world needs our whole personality, which is precious and in spite of all its stains and failures it’s worthwhile and lovable.