So much to say, so much to do. Or is there?
My feet are bare, my belly full, my eyes weary.
At this very moment, the longest night of the year is deepening, and with it, the night in me, too.
So much to say, so much to do. Or is there?
My feet are bare, my belly full, my eyes weary.
At this very moment, the longest night of the year is deepening, and with it, the night in me, too.
at this time – a dear friend is dying – 86 years.
first he was my student.
question was: who was learning most from who?
later we became friends.
an ex-priest. started up different projects in Africa.
was called back. started up "peace-islands"
maried late.
when his wife died – after 12 years of deep mourning – fell in love again and maried only 2 years ago for the second time.
a wise man – a beautifull life.
and now in dying even – apart from the sadness – there is some beauty and some holy-ness in it.
it brings me/us back to the essence – how naked and vulnerabel our lives are – how i often waste my time – strangled/ drawning in conditioning paterns –
but even this i guess is perfect as it is…
there is some holy-ness in everything?