Meditation

Three days after Black Tuesday. It is grey outside and raining. Our heart is still filled with tears over the pains of victims, survivers. Those who were burned and nailed down where they awaited their departure and lift off for peacefull destinations. Ripped out of their modest and fructuous lives by the fanatic whim of some petty crooks.


Crooks who in their narcissist delusion dare to impose, inflict their cult of hatred and violence on whoever passes by just around the corner. We did already know who bares the real martyrium, who are the real heros of unselfish assistance, the real saviours of humanity.


Today we stayed inside, quite tranquil. Looking through the window over the grey rainy hillslope down to the riverside, we talked a bit, sat side by side, followed some news, wondering about our personal meaning of this Good Friday. Meanwhile all over the world suffering goes on, inflicted by people that don´t really know what they are doing.


And by “knowing” I mean a form of “loving” your kindred. Because we should remember that the only and most tremendous and fascinating mystery of this entire cosmos will not be found in whatever religious belief, or temple or scripture. It unravels and reveals itself though manifestations like those tiny wet white blossom flowers halfway down the hill slope.

Those signs of new life beginnings, originating as gifts for senses that can open itself up for reception. Senses that open themselves for life power and creative energies. Living senses that “know” the power to affirm creative origins without any need to dominate.