Sunday, January 31, 2016
Antoinde de Saint-Exupéry, invisible solicitations in the desert
"As the desert offers no tangible riches, as there is nothing to see or hear in the desert,one is compelled to acknowledge, since the inner life, far from falling asleep, is fortified, that man is first animated by invisible solicitations.”
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/03/10/antoine-de-saint-exupery-letter-to-a-hostage-sahara/
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/03/10/antoine-de-saint-exupery-letter-to-a-hostage-sahara/
all will be good.
All will be good..
And if they are still alive they will live happily forever.
Well, an end to many unfair fairy stories.
The myths, I prefer them:
heroes can be seduced and they can die, women can cheat on their husbands,
there is incest and there is the murder of mother, father, brother,sister,
there are raw human emotions, pride, envy, passion, lust and raw strength,
there is cunning and stealth, ways of hiding and surprise. There is even love.
There are wars more than peace, and for the protagonists even courage and
persistence may lead to failure.
No throne is safe.
It is the Gods again and again interfering directly with the fate of the actors.
We can see life as a drama, a comedy, and in the end we sit there in wonder
and may even smile about the futility of plans and games.
But me, a simple man, I sit now on a chair which had belonged to my father.
He used to sit there, smoking cigars or his pipe, reading for hours, writing notes
by hand in his books, and quite often he maybe just appeared to read when he did nothing at all.
It can turn into an art, to do nothing, but in his case i don't know for certain
if it was not more a kind of camouflage, a way to be out of daily business and
family tension.
Now I sit on his chair, maybe i am a bit boring, my nose is running,
I am with a flue, but i find it useful to write into my diary for matters
of discipline. This discipline allows me to put myself into relationship
with the world moving and happening outside and to feel small, slow,
not very important at all.
Outside i can hear the spring storm at night, rain taking turns with snow,
a wind in the forest behind my house shaking the fir trees, the beech trees,
blowing in waves and with an ever changing rhythm.
I smoke a cigarette and drink a wodka lemon, in case you must know.
Soon, i say it to myself, soon I must go and sleep.
There is work to be done tomorrow. But I live only once, now.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good. But can it be?
Will it happen? In the end a futile question.
Would you come with your arms open to share joy,
to comfort me when I am ill, to console me when I am sad,
to be near, to be present, to be present when i will die?
Will you love me?
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
Can I be good, kind, can I be patient,
can I shut up and enjoy silence
together with you?
Yes ,I say to myself, I want all to be good.
All of us want all to be good.
We kill for it, we lie, we run from one
place to another, it doesn't help.
All must be good in ourself, good enough.
We cannot truly love ourself,
we are either not loved
or we can experience the happiness
of love and work with and on it.
There is no way to choose,
no way to plan,
and wishes are going with the wind.
We can open our arms, our hearts,
our mind, we can see each other and ourself
born new each day,
and through all possible patterns
we must refrain from judgement
and reasoning.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
I don't want friends to die,
but they do.
I don't want children and animals killed,
but they are being killed.
I don't want to stand up and speak the truth,
but I must. We must.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
We, us being human, we stumble,
we quarrel, we lose the path,
there are many paths,
Better to help each other
to walk into the rise of the day
and into the grówing evenings
and through the shortening nights.
Even when we are mutilated, deformed.
damaged, we can walk
in beauty and with joy.
Even our sadness is beautiful,
it bears the fruit of experience
and the taste of a life lived,
it shows reflection
like rings in the water.
Yes, I say to myself, let us be calm,
let us be slow, let us be quiet,
Yes, I say to myself, all will be good.
And if they are still alive they will live happily forever.
Well, an end to many unfair fairy stories.
The myths, I prefer them:
heroes can be seduced and they can die, women can cheat on their husbands,
there is incest and there is the murder of mother, father, brother,sister,
there are raw human emotions, pride, envy, passion, lust and raw strength,
there is cunning and stealth, ways of hiding and surprise. There is even love.
There are wars more than peace, and for the protagonists even courage and
persistence may lead to failure.
No throne is safe.
It is the Gods again and again interfering directly with the fate of the actors.
We can see life as a drama, a comedy, and in the end we sit there in wonder
and may even smile about the futility of plans and games.
But me, a simple man, I sit now on a chair which had belonged to my father.
He used to sit there, smoking cigars or his pipe, reading for hours, writing notes
by hand in his books, and quite often he maybe just appeared to read when he did nothing at all.
It can turn into an art, to do nothing, but in his case i don't know for certain
if it was not more a kind of camouflage, a way to be out of daily business and
family tension.
Now I sit on his chair, maybe i am a bit boring, my nose is running,
I am with a flue, but i find it useful to write into my diary for matters
of discipline. This discipline allows me to put myself into relationship
with the world moving and happening outside and to feel small, slow,
not very important at all.
Outside i can hear the spring storm at night, rain taking turns with snow,
a wind in the forest behind my house shaking the fir trees, the beech trees,
blowing in waves and with an ever changing rhythm.
I smoke a cigarette and drink a wodka lemon, in case you must know.
Soon, i say it to myself, soon I must go and sleep.
There is work to be done tomorrow. But I live only once, now.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good. But can it be?
Will it happen? In the end a futile question.
Would you come with your arms open to share joy,
to comfort me when I am ill, to console me when I am sad,
to be near, to be present, to be present when i will die?
Will you love me?
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
Can I be good, kind, can I be patient,
can I shut up and enjoy silence
together with you?
Yes ,I say to myself, I want all to be good.
All of us want all to be good.
We kill for it, we lie, we run from one
place to another, it doesn't help.
All must be good in ourself, good enough.
We cannot truly love ourself,
we are either not loved
or we can experience the happiness
of love and work with and on it.
There is no way to choose,
no way to plan,
and wishes are going with the wind.
We can open our arms, our hearts,
our mind, we can see each other and ourself
born new each day,
and through all possible patterns
we must refrain from judgement
and reasoning.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
I don't want friends to die,
but they do.
I don't want children and animals killed,
but they are being killed.
I don't want to stand up and speak the truth,
but I must. We must.
Yes, I say to myself, I want all to be good.
We, us being human, we stumble,
we quarrel, we lose the path,
there are many paths,
Better to help each other
to walk into the rise of the day
and into the grówing evenings
and through the shortening nights.
Even when we are mutilated, deformed.
damaged, we can walk
in beauty and with joy.
Even our sadness is beautiful,
it bears the fruit of experience
and the taste of a life lived,
it shows reflection
like rings in the water.
Yes, I say to myself, let us be calm,
let us be slow, let us be quiet,
Yes, I say to myself, all will be good.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Friday, January 29, 2016
Björk - Human Behavior (Official Music Video)
If you ever get close to a human and human behavior
Be ready, be ready to get confused and be in my head after
There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic to human behavior
But yet so, yet so irresistible and me and my fear can
And there is no map uncertain
Be ready, be ready to get confused and be in my head after
There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic to human behavior
But yet so, yet so irresistible and me and my fear can
And there is no map uncertain
They're terribly, terribly, terribly moody of human behavior
Then all of a sudden, turn happy and they and my here after
But oh, to get involved in the exchange of human emotions
Is ever so, ever so satisfying and they and my here on
And there is no map and chair too
Then all of a sudden, turn happy and they and my here after
But oh, to get involved in the exchange of human emotions
Is ever so, ever so satisfying and they and my here on
And there is no map and chair too
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
And there is no map
And a compass wouldn't help at all
Yeah, uncertain
And a compass wouldn't help at all
Yeah, uncertain
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior, human behavior
Human behavior
There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic
To human, to human, to human, to human
To human, to human, to human, to human
Chopin - Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Op. 52 (by Vadim Chaimovich)
maybe..for a Chopin..sometimes a bit too much..pressure?
Thursday, January 28, 2016
to live more slowly and music, diary notes
words and thoughts and feelings can be shared,
this does not mean they will be understood in the same way
as they are part of my experience now.
i will mistrust any form of understanding
which would put me in a prison of pre-vision
and define my travel to a one way road.
I will kindly accept any form of understanding
as long as it does not define me as the one
who says, thinks, feels the same tomorrow as now.
each one must have his or her own understanding
which means at best nothing else than to be able to take seed
and grow.
so today's diary note expresses that I am happy and unhappy
and that i have changed and that i will change.
getting older i experience time another way, and it does not make me run
because there may be not so 'much' time left,
this attitude appears immensely futile.
no, it makes 'time' more valuable,
if moments were raindrops i'd enjoy to feel
each one of them touching my skin ever so slowly.
time exists in imagination,
it is a concept which we have learned to use in order to
steer through the coordinates of life and death.
but in fact time is not a line but a space.
and it is up to our growth and imagination and largely to our will how to see this space,
how to inhabit it and how to feel its presence, our presence and awareness.
i feel now through all this space not as something in front of me as a young man does
but as inner space which gives me freedom and way to move inside
and outside, ways to go slowly, to rest inbetween , to see the flowers in lost places,
not only the meadows but each plant in there.
and it is not getting older what makes me melancholic but the presence
of longing and love mixed which permeates my now together with
empathy and mindfulness and egocentricity at the same time.
the suffering of the one i love makes me feel alone although I am not
alone neither in the sea of dreams nor in my soul.
children are always right, these uncivilized little monsters,
they live now and they want now.
to grow adult has meant to postpone this NOW.
there are not so many happy ways to learn and to do this.
i need a home in myself: it is there.
here.now.
i need to feel at home with my love,
to sleep with the tides and breathe with the stars,
her hand on my chest.
all this is always now.
now i listen to piano music from Franz Liszt,
and i am happy in solitude
at the same time always quite conscious of all
and all and all in this now,
living slowly,
accepting and enjoying my space.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
David Lang - pain changes ft. Shara Worden (HD)
"Death speaks"
pain changes every shape
once you are truly lonely
you will never be alone
feel my hand
I feel you
touch my cold hand
I will take you
from her
to your new cold land
I have chosen you
my only love
those others
they search for you
but
where they search
they will never find you
after the leaves fall, spring returns
after love is parted, it returns
all you have to do is
come with me
and wait
one day she will be lowered in the earth
beside you
my hand will guide her home
to the place where love is
and no pain
when that door opens
you will be healed
dearest man, dearest woman
dearest boy, dearest girl
dearest mother, dearest father
dearest son, dearest daughter
you will never leave me
you listen
you are silent
you feel me leaning towards you
nothing escapes me
not the warrior
not the hunter
everything awaits the way it changes
when life falls away
that is the meaning of the swan
and its song
the night can't last forever
nor will this sleep
beyond this sleep is light
forever light
until that light can shine
until you see it shining
sleep sweetly here
in the cool, dark night
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Saturday, January 23, 2016
SCHUBERT, String Quartet No 10 in e flat major, Vienna Konzerthaus Quartet
i must say..this is not perfectly played, too much effort and a hurry ...well, i feel so,
not enough "music" for long parts
not enough "music" for long parts
'My Love is on the High Seas' | Julie Fowlis | Sound Tracks Quick Hits |...
my love is on the high seas, my love is on the clouds....
David Bowie - Heroes
ironic is not bad. even humour there, better.
who wants to be king for one day,
and who needs to be heroic?
good song.
burn all books, burn the books of law,
live day for day as a poem.
who wants to be king for one day,
and who needs to be heroic?
good song.
burn all books, burn the books of law,
live day for day as a poem.
Wagner - The Ride of the Valkyries
I didn't say that i like it.
I am going to work.
This puts heroism in another perspective.
I am going to work.
This puts heroism in another perspective.
Laurie Anderson, Transitory Life
Shaman song, excellent and filled with truth-
When we see the trap the better.
Life is not all a trap though.
No need to react like a wolf in the forest and to bite off our leg in order to escape -
but all of us do it too often, limping towards freedom, mutilated.
Friday, January 22, 2016
To Love Is To Bury, Natalie Merchant
i don't know......
I buried him down by the river
Cause thats where he liked to be
And every night when the moon is high
I go there and weep openly
Cause thats where he liked to be
And every night when the moon is high
I go there and weep openly
He and I were married
By this river neath this willow tree
And with God and friends witnessing it
He pledged his life to me
By this river neath this willow tree
And with God and friends witnessing it
He pledged his life to me
To me he was earth
And I rooted in his soil
I to he was sky vast and free
Of the burdens from which he toiled
And I rooted in his soil
I to he was sky vast and free
Of the burdens from which he toiled
Then one night a terrible fight
Words spoken better left unsaid
With his wedding vows ringing in my ears
He gave his life to me
Words spoken better left unsaid
With his wedding vows ringing in my ears
He gave his life to me
They say to love is to bury
Those demons from which we all hide
But tonight by this river neath this willow tree
Becoming one of earth and sky
Those demons from which we all hide
But tonight by this river neath this willow tree
Becoming one of earth and sky
Well they say, to love is to bury
All the demons from which we hide
But tonight by this river neath this willow tree
Becoming one of earth and sky
All the demons from which we hide
But tonight by this river neath this willow tree
Becoming one of earth and sky
My Right Eye - Laurie Anderson
Concentration. Empty your mind.
Let the rest of the world go by.
Hold your breath. Hold your breath. Close your eyes.
Let the rest of the world go by.
Hold your breath. Hold your breath. Close your eyes.
Rocks and stones. Broken bones.
Everything eventually comes crawling home.
In the night. In the night.
Everything eventually comes crawling home.
In the night. In the night.
Please forgive me if I fall short of your mark.
But there are things still buried in my heart, pause
Heart pause. Heart pause. Then vanish. Then vanish.
But there are things still buried in my heart, pause
Heart pause. Heart pause. Then vanish. Then vanish.
Unstoppable time. All the things you left behind.
In the night. In the night.
Concentration. Empty your mind.
Let the rest of the world go by.
In the night. In the night.
Concentration. Empty your mind.
Let the rest of the world go by.
And when the tears fall from both my eyes
They fall from my right eye because I love you
And they fall from my left eye 'cause I cannot bear you.
They fall from my right eye because I love you
And they fall from my left eye 'cause I cannot bear you.
Rocks and stones. Broken bones.
Everything eventually comes crawling home.
In the night. In the night.
Everything eventually comes crawling home.
In the night. In the night.
Comes crawling. In the night. Comes crawling. In the night.
Comes crawling home. In the night. In the night.
Comes crawling home. In the night. In the night.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
twilight
How the bats fly
fast shadows in a cosmos
of sound, following
the reflection of echo
How the dancers fall in
step with a rhythm,
energy transformed
in the flow of blood
How the players
are still and aware
until they feel the move
of the other side
How the birds stop to sing
in the tidal pause
before the dusk sets in,
How we listen
How fragile we are
when we walk out
caught unaware
by silence
fast shadows in a cosmos
of sound, following
the reflection of echo
How the dancers fall in
step with a rhythm,
energy transformed
in the flow of blood
How the players
are still and aware
until they feel the move
of the other side
How the birds stop to sing
in the tidal pause
before the dusk sets in,
How we listen
How fragile we are
when we walk out
caught unaware
by silence
Esta montaña d'enfrente - Tradicional Sefardí o Judeo-español
either it is my flue or...a shiver running down my spine
Esta montanya de enfrenté
se aciende y va quemando
alli pedri al mi amor
M'asento y vo llorando.
Arvolico de menekshe
Yo lo ensembri' en mi huerta
Yo la creci' y lo engrandeci'
Otros te estan gozando.
Secretos quero descuvrir
secretos de mi vida
El cielo quero por papel
La mar quero por tinta.
Los arvoles por pendola
para escrivir mis males
No hay quien sepa mi dolor
Ni ajenos ni parientes.
Esta montanya de enfrenté
se aciende y va quemando
alli pedri al mi amor
M'asento y vo llorando.
Arvolico de menekshe
Yo lo ensembri' en mi huerta
Yo la creci' y lo engrandeci'
Otros te estan gozando.
Secretos quero descuvrir
secretos de mi vida
El cielo quero por papel
La mar quero por tinta.
Los arvoles por pendola
para escrivir mis males
No hay quien sepa mi dolor
Ni ajenos ni parientes.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Monday, January 18, 2016
Acts of folly, Paulo Coelho
"A warrior of light is never predictable.
He might dance down the street on his way to work, gaze into the eyes of a complete stranger and speak of love at first sight, or else defend an apparently absurd idea. Warriors of light allow themselves days like these.
He is not afraid to weep over ancient sorrows or to feel joy at new discoveries. When he feels that the moment has arrived, he drops everything and goes off on some long-dreamed-of adventure. When he realises that he can do no more, he abandons the fight, but never blames himself for having committed a few unexpected acts of folly.
A warrior does not spend his days trying to play the role that others have chosen for him."
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2016/01/11/acts-of-folly/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PauloCoelhosBlog+%28Paulo+Coelho%27s+Blog%29
He might dance down the street on his way to work, gaze into the eyes of a complete stranger and speak of love at first sight, or else defend an apparently absurd idea. Warriors of light allow themselves days like these.
He is not afraid to weep over ancient sorrows or to feel joy at new discoveries. When he feels that the moment has arrived, he drops everything and goes off on some long-dreamed-of adventure. When he realises that he can do no more, he abandons the fight, but never blames himself for having committed a few unexpected acts of folly.
A warrior does not spend his days trying to play the role that others have chosen for him."
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2016/01/11/acts-of-folly/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PauloCoelhosBlog+%28Paulo+Coelho%27s+Blog%29
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
Thursday, January 14, 2016
multiple personalities and a joy to dysfunction
i am I and me and the other one,
my shadow,
the NON-I,
thinker, dreamer, man, woman, human, child
and as such totally bored to be an adult
and to function an expected way.
i refuse, we refuse, all of us, me, I,
all who I am.
To be polite, patient, nice, constant,
reliable with a guarantee on my head,
preserved for hunters,
prepared to serve,
willing to win
or to die for a cause
or to suffer to be enlightened:
whatsoever you ask me, world,
i may disobey, we may disobey.
Neither will i choke on a tie
nor break my ankle with polished shoes
nor will i be as you think I am or must be.
we will never be.
we are all alive.
World, know, I am free, we are free.
We are unified the NON-I
and we are terrible in our play
as we do not follow rules
laid out in the book.
Unified we are NON-I,
cruel as children
and beautiful in terror
as angels in their glory.
We are the vastness
of the universe,
crazy in life and love and death.
we know it is a game
when we pull God's veils.
We, the NON-I, the dreamer, the child.
And all the other ones with
their memories of hurt,
mistreated, deformed,
and all the other ones
who committed sin,
carried guilt,
washed in the water of our NON-I.
We know who we are
as one .
We know
that cripples are free
in the NON-I,
and our living presence
shines with the dust of stars
and in the silence of death
penetrating all sadness.
through and with life.
And we know,
the thinker, the man, the woman,
the human, the dreamer and the child
we know
that we cannot step on our shadow.
And only this
teaches us measure
and modesty.
I am happy to give
you this information today
as we are the daily news
from Radio Manonafence.
and if you ask me to love you,
we don't know if we can.
we have no space , no time,
no obligation,
we are children
of the NON-I.
my shadow,
the NON-I,
thinker, dreamer, man, woman, human, child
and as such totally bored to be an adult
and to function an expected way.
i refuse, we refuse, all of us, me, I,
all who I am.
To be polite, patient, nice, constant,
reliable with a guarantee on my head,
preserved for hunters,
prepared to serve,
willing to win
or to die for a cause
or to suffer to be enlightened:
whatsoever you ask me, world,
i may disobey, we may disobey.
Neither will i choke on a tie
nor break my ankle with polished shoes
nor will i be as you think I am or must be.
we will never be.
we are all alive.
World, know, I am free, we are free.
We are unified the NON-I
and we are terrible in our play
as we do not follow rules
laid out in the book.
Unified we are NON-I,
cruel as children
and beautiful in terror
as angels in their glory.
We are the vastness
of the universe,
crazy in life and love and death.
we know it is a game
when we pull God's veils.
We, the NON-I, the dreamer, the child.
And all the other ones with
their memories of hurt,
mistreated, deformed,
and all the other ones
who committed sin,
carried guilt,
washed in the water of our NON-I.
We know who we are
as one .
We know
that cripples are free
in the NON-I,
and our living presence
shines with the dust of stars
and in the silence of death
penetrating all sadness.
through and with life.
And we know,
the thinker, the man, the woman,
the human, the dreamer and the child
we know
that we cannot step on our shadow.
And only this
teaches us measure
and modesty.
I am happy to give
you this information today
as we are the daily news
from Radio Manonafence.
and if you ask me to love you,
we don't know if we can.
we have no space , no time,
no obligation,
we are children
of the NON-I.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Rumi, Be melting snow
"Be melting snow.Wash yourself of yourself."
Be Melting Snow
Totally conscious, and apropos of nothing, you come to see me.
Is someone here? I ask.
The moon. The full moon is inside your house.
Is someone here? I ask.
The moon. The full moon is inside your house.
My friends and I go running out into the street.
I’m in here, comes a voice from the house, but we aren’t listening.
We’re looking up at the sky.
My pet nightingale sobs like a drunk in the garden.
Ringdoves scatter with small cries, Where, Where.
It’s midnight. The whole neighborhood is up and out
in the street thinking, The cat burglar has come back.
The actual thief is there too, saying out loud,
Yes, the cat burglar is somewhere in this crowd.
No one pays attention.
I’m in here, comes a voice from the house, but we aren’t listening.
We’re looking up at the sky.
My pet nightingale sobs like a drunk in the garden.
Ringdoves scatter with small cries, Where, Where.
It’s midnight. The whole neighborhood is up and out
in the street thinking, The cat burglar has come back.
The actual thief is there too, saying out loud,
Yes, the cat burglar is somewhere in this crowd.
No one pays attention.
Lo, I am with you always means when you look for God,
God is in the look of your eyes,
in the thought of looking, nearer to you than your self,
or things that have happened to you
There’s no need to go outside.
God is in the look of your eyes,
in the thought of looking, nearer to you than your self,
or things that have happened to you
There’s no need to go outside.
Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.
Wash yourself of yourself.
A white flower grows in quietness.
Let your tongue become that flower.
Let your tongue become that flower.
David Bowie - Who Can I Be Now? (lp 'Young Americans' RCA 1975)
an artist has to be dyfunctional...David Bowie said it about this way,
well.
lalalalala.
blablabla.
"has to"...?
Duineser Elegien, Die Erste Elegie, R. M.Rilke
"WER, wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel
Ordnungen? und gesetzt selbst, es nähme
einer mich plötzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem
stärkeren Dasein. Denn das Schöne ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen,
und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht,
uns zu zerstören. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich.
Und so verhalt ich mich denn und verschlucke den Lockruf
dunkelen Schluchzens. Ach, wen vermögen
wir denn zu brauchen? Engel nicht, Menschen nicht,
und die findigen Tiere merken es schon,
daß wir nicht sehr verläßlich zu Haus sind
in der gedeuteten Welt."
Duineser Elegien, R. M. Rilke
Erste Elegie
Duino Elegies
Shambhala Publications, Inc., 1992
The First Elegy
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?
and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Every angel is terrifying.
And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.
Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need?
Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.
Ordnungen? und gesetzt selbst, es nähme
einer mich plötzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem
stärkeren Dasein. Denn das Schöne ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen,
und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht,
uns zu zerstören. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich.
Und so verhalt ich mich denn und verschlucke den Lockruf
dunkelen Schluchzens. Ach, wen vermögen
wir denn zu brauchen? Engel nicht, Menschen nicht,
und die findigen Tiere merken es schon,
daß wir nicht sehr verläßlich zu Haus sind
in der gedeuteten Welt."
Duineser Elegien, R. M. Rilke
Erste Elegie
THE FIRST ELEGY
Who, if I cried, would hear me, of the angelic
orders? or even supposing that one should suddenly
carry me to his heart – I should perish under the pressure
of his stronger nature. For beauty is only a step
removed from a burning terror we barely sustain,
and we worship it for the graceful sublimity
with which it disdains to consume us. Each angel burns.
And so I hold back, and swallow down the yearning,
the dark call heard in the cave of the heart. Alas,
who then can serve our need? Not angels, not human
beings; and even the sly beasts begin to perceive
that we do not feel too much at home
in our interpreted world
(translation: John Walterfield)
Duino Elegies
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Shambhala Publications, Inc., 1992
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
The First ElegyWho, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
Every angel is terrifying.
And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.
Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need?
Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
to be calm had never appealed to me: a short meditation to share
to be calm had never appealed to me, had never.
i breathe into my night,
and i rest in hands i don't know about.
i don't need to know.
maybe they are mine. maybe yours.
maybe it is life.
maybe they are God's hands.
maybe .
my cat crawls up on my lap.
he wants to be close.
he purrs.
i am sure it is not love.
and i am not sure if it is his need
or just a mood.
i don't care.
no. to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be different, inspired,
outstanding, powerful.
what is this power?
it takes so much for nothing.
and inspiration, well,
to say the truth of now,
i don't always want to fly.
i am walking on earth,
not on water.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be away.
but why is now not enough?
open for the next now,
but now is now.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be loved,
but do i need it?
will i not be bored
if it should be too much?
can i not just love?
can it be?
to be calm had never appealed to me.
now: i thought it is a prison
and the bird of my longing
must escape and find a branch
from where it can sing.
can i not sing here?
to be calm had never appealed to me.
a touch of grace felt like a threat
that i could be possessed.
but am i not my own man?
i am free.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
how do you walk a tight rope
high up in the sky:
you forget what you do,
and you are in balance.
so i forgot,
and to be calm
and in balance
feels right.
there is no need to defend
what i do not own
and there is no need to defend
what i own:
i am like water,
and i am, me.
well, now.
i breathe into my night,
and i rest in hands i don't know about.
i don't need to know.
maybe they are mine. maybe yours.
maybe it is life.
maybe they are God's hands.
maybe .
my cat crawls up on my lap.
he wants to be close.
he purrs.
i am sure it is not love.
and i am not sure if it is his need
or just a mood.
i don't care.
no. to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be different, inspired,
outstanding, powerful.
what is this power?
it takes so much for nothing.
and inspiration, well,
to say the truth of now,
i don't always want to fly.
i am walking on earth,
not on water.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be away.
but why is now not enough?
open for the next now,
but now is now.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
i had wanted to be loved,
but do i need it?
will i not be bored
if it should be too much?
can i not just love?
can it be?
to be calm had never appealed to me.
now: i thought it is a prison
and the bird of my longing
must escape and find a branch
from where it can sing.
can i not sing here?
to be calm had never appealed to me.
a touch of grace felt like a threat
that i could be possessed.
but am i not my own man?
i am free.
to be calm had never appealed to me.
how do you walk a tight rope
high up in the sky:
you forget what you do,
and you are in balance.
so i forgot,
and to be calm
and in balance
feels right.
there is no need to defend
what i do not own
and there is no need to defend
what i own:
i am like water,
and i am, me.
well, now.
David Bowie - Lazarus (Official Video)
..and even still even humour in dying....*
Look up here, I'm in heaven
I've got scars that can't be seen
I've got drama, can't be stolen
Everybody knows me now
I've got scars that can't be seen
I've got drama, can't be stolen
Everybody knows me now
Look up here, man, I'm in danger
I've got nothing left to lose
I'm so high, it makes my brain whirl
Dropped my cell phone down below
Ain't that just like me?
By the time I got to New York
I was living like a king
Then I used up all my money
I was looking for your ass
This way or no way
You know I'll be free
Just like that bluebird
Now, ain't that just like me?
Oh, I'll be free
Just like that bluebird
Oh, I'll be free
Ain't that just like me?
Just like that bluebird
Oh, I'll be free
Ain't that just like me?
Monday, January 11, 2016
Mozart / String Quintet No. 1 in B-flat major, K. 174
mus-ic penetrating sadness, giving ease to fly through clouds,giving way to leave
time and space without cutting the connection to earth and universe,
light playing with shadow and :....transformation, not entertainment
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Al Green - How can you mend a broken heart (Book of Eli's Theme)
just a part of healing, my friend...the bigger part is done inside
every breath you take
every breath you take, every step you make, each song you listen to,
each scent coming to you, each stone you touch, each word you forget to say,
each silence you walk into and each river where you wet your feet, each flower you see
and each bird in flight, each leaf on the ground and each cloud in the sky, each tree you feel and each shadow joining your mind,
let it be.
what you think is not important now.
let it be.
dive and swim and float,
the salty sea makes you light,
your breath carries you,
the wind takes you in soft and cool arms.
you remember childhood hurt, deprivation of soul and skin,
longing to be loved, your skin burns now and your heart is not at rest,
let it be,
let yourself be carried,
surrender.
you are you,
you can be
and you can be silent
and sad or not sad,
float in your own breath,
float in peace,
let it be.
you are not a fish in a glass,
you are not in the cellar staring at patterns in the stones.
you are here and you are there,
let it be.
you hear your mother's hysteric voice,
you feel insufficient, always no good,
your father's son,
a half-blood in town,
somebody to be aborted, to be killed,
an outcast.
let it be.
maybe it was like that,
it is not now.
let it be.
you have been an outcast for long,
you have been near death,
but what is this death
but a surrender to love.
let it be.
you have been an outcast for long,
you felt you had to be "special"
to make good,
but why,
it is nothing to you.
let it be.
you kept on living
only because,
in opposition,
in spite,
out of your own strength,
so you are strong,
but it is nothing.
let it be,
you are alone,
it is good,
let it be.
your thoughts are not important now.
now you love from the deep,
again sensual deprivation,
a loved one may fear you,
you may fear her,
a soul so near,
for now let it be.
let it all be
and surrender to peace.
surrender to love.
breathe and let your breath carry you.
nobody else will do this.
just may join for a time, some time.
stay silent.
be.
you.
each scent coming to you, each stone you touch, each word you forget to say,
each silence you walk into and each river where you wet your feet, each flower you see
and each bird in flight, each leaf on the ground and each cloud in the sky, each tree you feel and each shadow joining your mind,
let it be.
what you think is not important now.
let it be.
dive and swim and float,
the salty sea makes you light,
your breath carries you,
the wind takes you in soft and cool arms.
you remember childhood hurt, deprivation of soul and skin,
longing to be loved, your skin burns now and your heart is not at rest,
let it be,
let yourself be carried,
surrender.
you are you,
you can be
and you can be silent
and sad or not sad,
float in your own breath,
float in peace,
let it be.
you are not a fish in a glass,
you are not in the cellar staring at patterns in the stones.
you are here and you are there,
let it be.
you hear your mother's hysteric voice,
you feel insufficient, always no good,
your father's son,
a half-blood in town,
somebody to be aborted, to be killed,
an outcast.
let it be.
maybe it was like that,
it is not now.
let it be.
you have been an outcast for long,
you have been near death,
but what is this death
but a surrender to love.
let it be.
you have been an outcast for long,
you felt you had to be "special"
to make good,
but why,
it is nothing to you.
let it be.
you kept on living
only because,
in opposition,
in spite,
out of your own strength,
so you are strong,
but it is nothing.
let it be,
you are alone,
it is good,
let it be.
your thoughts are not important now.
now you love from the deep,
again sensual deprivation,
a loved one may fear you,
you may fear her,
a soul so near,
for now let it be.
let it all be
and surrender to peace.
surrender to love.
breathe and let your breath carry you.
nobody else will do this.
just may join for a time, some time.
stay silent.
be.
you.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Paulo Coelho,Warrior of the Light: A Manual, quote
A warrior of light knows that certain moments repeat themselves.
He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making any progress in life.
‘I’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.
‘Yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart. ‘But you have never been beyond it.’
Then the warrior realises that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to teach him what he does not want to learn.
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2016/01/06/repeated-moments/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PauloCoelhosBlog+%28Paulo+Coelho%27s+Blog%29
I am one of the many to read through this book off and on again.
And you know what-
I don 't want to learn everything the hard way:
and again, here I am one of the many...
He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making any progress in life.
‘I’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.
‘Yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart. ‘But you have never been beyond it.’
Then the warrior realises that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to teach him what he does not want to learn.
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2016/01/06/repeated-moments/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+PauloCoelhosBlog+%28Paulo+Coelho%27s+Blog%29
I am one of the many to read through this book off and on again.
And you know what-
I don 't want to learn everything the hard way:
and again, here I am one of the many...
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
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