Monday, September 26, 2016
Nu ,Earth
Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion
or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up
from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all. I do not exist,
am not an entity in this world or in the next,
did not descend from Adam and Eve or any
origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
of the traceless. Neither body or soul.
I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
worlds as one and that one call to and know,
first, last, outer, inner, only that
breath breathing human being.
on the German health system and the imminent ruin of an old doctor
Today i am very troubled.
I have been a doctor since 1978,
for nearly 25 years now a General Medical Practitioner in
my own office here in the rural South of Germany..
In 2018 i want to stop work. Now i am 66 years old.
Apart from other work i care for 3 nursing homes.
My prescriptions are "over budget" each year.
Now i am threatened with paying the excess
out of my own pocket which is fairly empty.
We are talking about sums of 28-58 000 Euros yearly !
for the years 2015 until end of my working time,
to be paid 2018, 2019, 2020.
Does anyone think this is ok?
I don't.
I try to look for professional help,
but the chances are not good, maybe only to lower
the cost by a few thousand Euros.
Is it not enough to have paid taxes all these many years,
do our laws need to ruin the hope for ageing peacefully,
as if it was not enough to grow old and frail and walk towards
death?
I do not understand and cannot accept, at least i don't know
how.
I have been a doctor since 1978,
for nearly 25 years now a General Medical Practitioner in
my own office here in the rural South of Germany..
In 2018 i want to stop work. Now i am 66 years old.
Apart from other work i care for 3 nursing homes.
My prescriptions are "over budget" each year.
Now i am threatened with paying the excess
out of my own pocket which is fairly empty.
We are talking about sums of 28-58 000 Euros yearly !
for the years 2015 until end of my working time,
to be paid 2018, 2019, 2020.
Does anyone think this is ok?
I don't.
I try to look for professional help,
but the chances are not good, maybe only to lower
the cost by a few thousand Euros.
Is it not enough to have paid taxes all these many years,
do our laws need to ruin the hope for ageing peacefully,
as if it was not enough to grow old and frail and walk towards
death?
I do not understand and cannot accept, at least i don't know
how.
Boris Grebenshikov ,Winter.
Now that the summer is gone
Snow"s on the ground
I sought and I found
I know what I found is true
But the bitter gray sky
Fades into silence
Only the fire is left
And some say it"s not enough
To carry us through
Snow"s on the ground
I sought and I found
I know what I found is true
But the bitter gray sky
Fades into silence
Only the fire is left
And some say it"s not enough
To carry us through
Days of apple bloom white
Silver and steel
Tales of webs
Spun around a careless heart
I dream of the snow-white seagulls
Crying to show me the way
But I will stay here with you
And nothing will ever come
To tear us apart
Silver and steel
Tales of webs
Spun around a careless heart
I dream of the snow-white seagulls
Crying to show me the way
But I will stay here with you
And nothing will ever come
To tear us apart
Look into my eyes sister
No harm will come to you
Look into my eyes sister
No harm will come to you
No harm will come to you
Look into my eyes sister
No harm will come to you
The Wind ,Boris Grebenshikov-,Radio Silence
Radio Silence
It suddenly feels like a new year
Like I'm a million miles away from here
I can see some kind of light here
Although I won't name it
I want to talk about the moonlight
I want to talk about the wild child, you know
That real wild one, dancing alone
In the middle of the whirlpool
Spinning tales about silence
About radio silence
About some kind of asylum
In the middle of an empty field full of danger
It's strange I don't feel like I'm a stranger
Like I'm a million miles away from here
I can see some kind of light here
Although I won't name it
I want to talk about the moonlight
I want to talk about the wild child, you know
That real wild one, dancing alone
In the middle of the whirlpool
Spinning tales about silence
About radio silence
About some kind of asylum
In the middle of an empty field full of danger
It's strange I don't feel like I'm a stranger
I feel like I've been waiting for a long time
And now I can tell you some stories
Stories about the madmen
Stories about the dream-child
You know, that real wild one
Who dances alone
In the middle of the whirlpool
And I can tell you about silence
About radio silence
About some kind of asylum
In the middle of an empty field full of danger
If you want it
a short "essay" on "my" intelligence
intelligence tells me i die and now i live.
I die and live. I am alive.
I live as consciously,
as passionately
and as truly as i can with all
the richness of life and death,
with the sweetness of grapes, the taste of apples,
the scent of flowers, with kisses
and embraces and tenderness
and all desire
to be free and open to see, to be
free of thought and pre-judgement
and of as many concepts as i can be.
My greatest desire is to be near to essence,
to true and conscious experience.
Essence is a word, but essence cannot be in a word.
I must move on, grow inside, water my love
and my kindness.
I must live
with my emptiness and
with my fullness, my not-mine
and non-me and my many me,
my idiot child in me and my education
and past, my wishes and dreams
and with all the cruelty and violence
and desert and indifference of the days
and the human race and me,
fighting, going inside to find my way.
all this intelligence tells me.
It tells me i am not and I am.
I feel me living, this is all.
And i feel this passionately.
i love and i am in love,
enchanted by the essence of another,
no need for chanting,
i walk with it and listen.
I remain untouchable in essence
but touchable. I changes, not essence.
Can anybody do more than to listen?
Intelligence tells me: all is fragile,
and the beauty of the filigree
is all the more beautiful for it.
ps: i am not so very intelligent
and not always conscious of what i do,
certainly not of what i write...
I die and live. I am alive.
I live as consciously,
as passionately
and as truly as i can with all
the richness of life and death,
with the sweetness of grapes, the taste of apples,
the scent of flowers, with kisses
and embraces and tenderness
and all desire
to be free and open to see, to be
free of thought and pre-judgement
and of as many concepts as i can be.
My greatest desire is to be near to essence,
to true and conscious experience.
Essence is a word, but essence cannot be in a word.
I must move on, grow inside, water my love
and my kindness.
I must live
with my emptiness and
with my fullness, my not-mine
and non-me and my many me,
my idiot child in me and my education
and past, my wishes and dreams
and with all the cruelty and violence
and desert and indifference of the days
and the human race and me,
fighting, going inside to find my way.
all this intelligence tells me.
It tells me i am not and I am.
I feel me living, this is all.
And i feel this passionately.
i love and i am in love,
enchanted by the essence of another,
no need for chanting,
i walk with it and listen.
I remain untouchable in essence
but touchable. I changes, not essence.
Can anybody do more than to listen?
Intelligence tells me: all is fragile,
and the beauty of the filigree
is all the more beautiful for it.
ps: i am not so very intelligent
and not always conscious of what i do,
certainly not of what i write...
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