You call me by my name
And tell me that I’m human
A human that is born
And that will die again
I tell you what the name is
Of this dear human-child
And in that name all is contained
What men expect from it
I can not say the name
Of that which has no name
I only can be still
When You will ask me that …
He looked up and opened his eyes. Everything was cristal clear; as if everything had been polished. He saw the tiniest details: the grains of sand glistening on the ground, the feelers of the butterfllies, the stamens of the flowers. And he saw the grandiosity: the little dots that were the planets and the stars, the space beyond the universe, the Grand Beginning.
And yet, he just sat in the kitchen at the table. Somewhere deep in the depths of his body, it felt as if a huge rock had shifted. Every word he wanted to use to describe what had happened deep inside of him, failed. He layed down his head in his hands and tears dripped on the table. Enormous gratitude and joy flowed through him. Liquid goldglow and silver brilliance took the place of where dark cold mist had lived inside of him.
He rose to tell about death that leads to life and was crucified.
Then he rose for the second time to tell that death and life don’t exist. A few people understood.
The third time he rose, he looked around with gratitude and didn’t have to tell anything. He knew that everybody Knew …
When softness answers harshness
and love replaces hate
When gratitude lives there
where greed once had her home
When ‘less’ softly appears
where ‘more’ was once so strong
Then that’s in you the answer
on what you ever asked me …
You never ever hurt me
Although I did believe that
What I told me about you
That hurt-ed so intense
Now finally all my stories
Returned to where they came from
And warm light winds start whispering
The new ones in my ears
Soft rains fall now upon me
And cherish and caress me
And new words gentle land
In open fertile soil …
Lost in the maze of illusions and dead-end alleys.
we stretch out our hands as blindfolded eyes.
Feeling touching we keep bumping into the same walls
not knowing that the blindfold is within ourselves.
On a day, when the knot unties,
staying foot behind a thorn bush,
we blink and we see
that there are no walls …
Product of genes and conditioning,
We do what we must do.
When conscious of what we do,
we: product of genes and conditioning,
light twinkles in from deep, deepdown.
Light throws herself upon us, on what we do and
shows us in the end
that Light is what we are.
And in that Light all what we did
was the best we ever could,
then, without the Light.
The Light shows us so tenderly
that we are innocent …
I use
The earth to walk on
The air to breathe
The plants to eat
The water to drink
You to talk to
You to touch
You to be with you
You to be with me
You use
Me
to make
using
possible … …
Peace for you
starts as peace in me
Peace in me
is peace for you
Peace in you
has never begun
It was already there
before you were
Peace in you
has never ended
It is there
when you are not …
It was Christmas Eve and you came to me. It was a cold and clear night, stars at the sky and a full moon. In silence we packed everything: sleeping bag, hot tea, candles, some food, a rug and a torch. We put on our boots, hat, mittens and a shawl.
We got into the car and went our way. It was dark, although the moon was there and it was silent. Most people were inside. The trees along the little roads guided us as true keepers. The little roads winded through the countryside. When the tar ended, we parked the car on the sandy path, got our stuff and started walking.
The torch lit the path in front of us as we walked our way in the deepest silence, accompanied by the stars and the moon. We were heading towards the place I knew so well. The place that had comforted me, encouraged me, supported me and embraced me. The place that gave me joy, gratitude and stillness.
There, we put down the rug, wrapped the sleeping bag around us and sat down. The vast stillness touched us. The ground and the sky were one in darkness.
In silence we sat, drinking the still darkness, sunk into the depths within. The first waves came. A ripple, then a wave and then a tidal wave. Streams of tears, sounds, movement came and went away.
Feeling took the place of wanting. Surrender took the place of fear. Gratitude took the place of uncertainty. Abundance poured out of each pore. The heathland received all tears, all emotions. The ground on which we sat, flooded fear with gratitude and uncertainty with surrender.
You and me sat silently with tears on our cheeks. The shooting stars didn’t make a single noise. The first clouds started to hide the moon. Darkness surrounded us more and more. We looked at each-other. Our tears glittered in the candle light. We drank our hot tea.
The waves disappeared together with the light of the stars and the moon. What was left was stillness that came to shore, here, in this heat-land.
We rose, folded the rug, packed the basket and rolled the sleeping bag. In silence we walked back to where we came from. The wind blew in our face now and the first snowflakes stayed on our coats.
Then nature started to whisper: “You didn’t come to me; I came to Me”, the branches swept in our face. “You didn’t come to me; you came to You”, the grass hummed. “You didn’t come to me; I was always here “, the heat-land rustled. Never were these sentences so familiar as they were now on this Christmas Eve. Tears filled my eyes: tears of recognition; tears of stillness; tears of gratitude. And you, you were there: inseparably connected and not connected. You went with me, all days and nights. You walk with me: all nights and days. There is no difference between you and me. There is no you and me. There only is …
When you see the wave in someone else,
the wave of anger, sorrow, fear,
you can be the beach
When you see the wave in you,
the wave of reaction, knowing better, arrogance,
You can be the beach
When you are the beach
all waves
of you
of someone else
can finally
come ashore
Wonderwalk 