AFSA Summerschool 2006

It still feels like there is a post missing on this blog. The AFSA Summerschool 2006.

Just to get everyone I the picture: AFSA (The Aikido Federation of South Africa) generally holds two major seminars a year, the Summerschool some time around December and the Winterschool around July.

This year the two main instructors were Sensei Mutsuku Minegishi, 6th Dan, visiting instructor from Guam and Sensei Franco Martufi, 5th Dan, AFSA Chief Instructor.

So much about the framework. Other than that I just want to say that I had an absolutely amazing time over the four days of this seminar. It was a wonderful experience to be able to share the love and passion I have for Aikido with so many different people and to practice together, sometimes beyond where I thought the limit was.
I want to thank each and every person on the mat and especially Sensei Minegishi, Sensei Martufi and Sensei de Beer for making this weekend such a special time.


It is impossible to summarize all the things we practiced over these few days so I have just posted a few pictures and maybe you can get some impression of how special it was.

(pictures by Sensei Ghalib Galant)

A different perspective

I’ve looked at you so many times.

Have seen your light and your dark side.

I have come to love you and sometimes I even find a piece of myself inside you.

I’m not claiming to know you, but exploring you for me holds so many treasures.
Silently I move and suddenly you catch me completely by surprise.

I stop breathing as you lay out your beauty before me.

It is not just another beautiful moment with you.

It is the sense that in this moment you allow me to look deeper than ever.

Hundreds of millions of years of your wisdom surround me.

There is no thought or words that can grasp what you are showing me in this moment.

The feeling reaches an intensity of pain. I don’t ask questions.

My eyes fill up with tears and I don’t fight them.

My chest lets go and your beauty in all its depth flows into me.

Gently offering me your shoulder to rest my head…

Well, this was not written for a man or a woman or any other form of human being (Not many of us make it past the century mark anyway ;-)
These words came to me in memory of a moment I experienced a few days ago. I went hiking with a friend in the Eastern Cape and this was a moment that I experienced along the way. The camera had given up by that stage and in a way I am glad about that. No picture could possibly come close to what it was like. Just to share a little bit of the trip with you I have posted some pics that will give you an idea of what it means to “hide in the bush”.

Inaugural Speech 1994, Nelson Mandela

Most of the South Africans that come accross this post are probably tired of reading these words. But I came accross this speech again yesterday and felt like I wanted to share them here. Maybe I am just trying to convice myself...

Summer is finally here

Summer is finally here! The African sun is smiling down on Cape Town, the beaches are coming alive, the mountain is bathing in the sunlight and the people smile even more….

But it is not only the summer that is bringing new energy.

The past two and a half weeks have been so filled with new warm energy for me from all sides. The main reason is that a very good friend of mine was here to visit me and really helped me transform something.

The last few months haven’t been easy for me and I really needed a shift of focus. And there she was; smiling at me at the Airport. My heart jumped and I felt what it means when someone is a real friend.

Over the next few days we wandered around Kalk Bay getting lost in little shops, watched the sunset on Camps Bay and the waves washing up Clifton Beach. We drove around the beautiful coast of the Cape Peninsula, had sundowners at the “Red Herring”, got lost in the “Scratch Patch” scratching for semi-precious stones and of course – as girls do – spent lots of time chatting.

Over the weekend we went away into our own little paradise surrounded by nothing else but trees and birds and our own little river. We re-discovered that you don’t need a man to make a fire and have a good braai and that the stars are bright enough for you to find the way to the toilet at night… (although I must admit the DOTit was helpful ;-)

So much for a very brief summary of the amazing time we had. Besides the fact that it was a huge gift to be able to spend all this time with her it also made me focus on all the beauty that surrounds me here every day. Not that I normally don’t see it, but showing someone else around makes you see things through different eyes again. I really am very lucky that I get the chance to live here, surrounded by all this natural beauty and so many smiling faces - the sun gently rising over the one ocean in the morning kissing the other one good night in the evening.

So there I was after a time of really struggling to keep the light shining now sitting with a real friend. It was amazing to be able to just be. Talking when we wanted to talk, making space when we needed it. Sitting quietly where there was no need for words. Being able to share, knowing there is no judgement between us. The feeling of complete trust.

This time really made a difference to me.

smiling hearts

Today I spoke to two very dear friends of mine. Something was different to most of the conversations I have had with my friends over the last few months and as their stories unfolded I discovered the reason.

Love.

They are in love. There was a smile in their hearts that I could feel even from thousands of miles away. One smile was about a new love, one smile about an old love that was rediscovered.

It was like a breath of fresh air directly into my own heart.

Only now I am realizing how many sad stories I have listened to, how often I have heard depressed, dark, sad, hopeless and angry voices…

This is not to say, that I don’t want to hear these stories anymore. They are part of life and just as the tide comes in and out they are part of the natural flow of things. But in this moment today it was just wonderful to have my own heart touched by the joy and happiness of these to people.

So I am just sharing this here in case any of you need a bit of cheering up for their heart ;-)

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense.

Rumi

At this point it is important to me that whoever reads this blog knows that my posts – and especially those on Aikido - are purely my own thoughts and interpretations. I don’t claim to be in a position of explaining what Aikido is all about and how it should be practiced. This is just me sharing my own experiences trying to make sense of things along the way.

Remain connected without loosing your centre

What was it that attracted me to Aikido about seven years ago? I guess it was just an intuitive feeling. There was just “something I liked about it”. There was something in the movement that had such beauty.

This “something” seemed to be a purely physical challenge for quite a long time; getting the hands and feet into the right place, coordinating movements and learning to take rolls and falls. But there was more and over time I am becoming more and more aware of some of these things. Aikido is teaching me a lot about different aspects of life. One of these aspects lies in the way uke (the person that attacks) and tori (the person executing the technique) relate on the mat and in the perfect harmony that is found in the movement when that relationship is flowing.

When we practice Aikido one of the vitally important things to learn is that whatever we do is coming from the center; that we are moving as one unit and with confidence. The moment you compromise your space and let uke take control of your centre you are defeated (especially if uke is physically stronger).

At the same time all technique will be useless if you are only focussed on your own centre and unaware of the nature of uke's attack. Therefore total connectedness is required. The moment you loose that connection with uke he/she will feel it and (depending on the situation and experience of uke) this can lead to him/her overpowering you in a counter-technique or in injury to uke.

For me watching Aikido and experiencing it in my own practice has such absolute beauty because it expresses something that so many of us long for. It is a relationship that allows for connection and closeness without compromising your own centre.

The moments we feel uncomfortable in a relationship with a friend, a lover or even a complete stranger are usually those where we feel the other person is compromising our space, knocking us off our centre. As a result we may become hard and disconnected; trying to regain balance but just getting stuck and frustrated.

Quote: “Where is my centre? Where is ukes centre? How can I reach and move uke?” (Thanx, Horst ;-)

This is what we practice as tori.

As uke we practice a good and confident attack which should also come from the centre. But in the dojo we are also working on building trust and learning to surrender.

Surrendering does not mean loosing yourself or giving up. It means non-resistance. To some people this might sound strange because shouldn’t we always try and remain strong? But non-resistance and surrender to a technique means increasing flexibility. In surrendering to a movement uke might be able to re-position himself and might even find the gap for a counter-technique. For this to happen our practice must be done with mutual respect and sensitivity so that uke can learn to trust tori’s technique and thereby gain the space to build his own confidence.

This is another aspect we search for in our relationships: respect and sensitivity to the other person’s journey. We look for trust and support along the way. A relationship where two people are constantly competing becomes exhausting. We want to feel that we have the space to try things out without someone taking advantage. We are looking for a safe space where we can make mistakes and still feel supported.

This weekend on the mat I got that opportunity and I want to say thank you to all the senseis that gave us that opportunity and all the people that trained with us creating that very special space.

Quick update

Am I missing the inspiration or why haven’t I posted anything for almost a month?

It is certainly not the lack of inspiration. Lots of things have been happening and are inspiring me and I will share more soon.

Just to keep you up to date:

I am back to work at UCT and things are going well there.

I have moved to a beautiful new space in Muizenberg, where I can watch the sunrise over the sea on my way to work and the sunset behind the mountain from my balcony (Thanx Dirk :-)

My new old car caught fire just after I got it back from the mechanic so after recovering from the shock I am car-hunting again.

I have started a nine-month shiatsu course which is turning out to be quite a life-changing experience ;-)

And of course I am enjoying every night that I can spend on the mat practicing how to throw guys around and how to cope with life in general…
Ah well, most importantly having lots of fun along the way!

Spring is coming soon

Back in Cape Town. The night is still covering the city, the clouds are covering the mountain and a gentle drizzle is covering the streets and the cold is wrapping me in. I am back. And in spite of all the cold it feels good. I somehow know that spring is not far. I had a summer break that I really needed. The sun to warm my body and friends and family to warm my soul. Now I can take another month of winter knowing that soon spring will be here. Thank you to everyone in Germany who made this last month so special for me…

More than Football, Flags and Freibier...

I am standing in the ‘Treptower Park’ in Berlin in the middle of a huge crowd of Germans all watching Germany versus Italy in the semi-final of the soccer world cup 2006. German flags everywhere and suddenly after 118 minutes Italy scores.

Within that split second the whole atmosphere changes. I can feel the energy drop. The emotions of millions of people take a big turn in that moment. It feels like the whole city falls into a hole and I have to remind myself that the hollow feeling in my tummy is just a result of this sudden change in energy.

The next day I step outside and notice – to my surprise – that all the German flags on cars balconies and windows are still there. The city feels quiet but the flags are still there.

A few days later Germany plays Portugal in the game for the third place. And the Germans celebrate. The streets are overflowing with fans, flags and music. Germany has become third in the soccer world cup 2006…

It is 1.30 at night, Zoo station. I am sitting on the tube on my way home from watching the game. A bunch of very drunk youngsters squeezes into the train and starts singing “Wir wollen wippen, wippen, wippen…” rocking the wagon, making me wonder if we are going to see the next station. In the middle of all this a woman in her mid-forties is busy changing shirts with her 25-year-old boyfriend and we unwillingly all get to have a look at her bra… I look at the couple sitting next to me. They are probably in their mid sixties holding little German flags in their hands and are smiling at the whole scene.

This is the moment where I start wondering if I am in the right country?!
Maybe only someone that has been to Germany and has spent some time here will understand why I ask myself this question.

This isn’t just another soccer world cup. Of course, it is some sort of mass event but this event has turned into a lot more. It has changed something. Something inside the Germans has been set free. Suddenly they are allowed to feel German, to feel that there is such a thing as a German identity and a sense of community amongst the people of this country. They are even allowed to show their flag without getting concerned looks from the rest of the world.

And against all negative expectations there haven’t been any major incidences of aggression or racist assaults against any of the hundreds of thousands of visitors. Instead I see a German flag that has been attached to a Turkish flag hanging out of a car window as I walk down the Ku’ Damm.

I am not saying that this soccer world cup has solved all our prejudices and problems with racism in this country, but it certainly has shown that there is more to Germany and its people than generally expected. Over the past few weeks the Germans eventually got the chance to show the humanity, the sense of community and the openness that lies within them.

The humanity is mirrored in the people on the streets and on all the Thank-You-banners to the German team. A team that had to deal with lots of criticism before the tournament and coach that pushed thru in spite of all the difficulties.

Juergen Klinsman has managed to build a team that is very young and still became third in this world cup. But more importantly a team that played with passion for the third place and that showed respect and support for former goal keeper Oliver Kahn who had to sit on the bench in this tournament but had a worthy farewell in this last game.

So the Germans celebrate.

They celebrate Klinsman, Kahn, Lehman…

and they celebrate themselves and their newly discovered humanity and openness – sometimes even able to forget why they are actually celebrating…

In Transition

As the plane takes off I see the mountain rising out of a sea of clouds. The city lights of Cape Town are fading in the rising sun that paints the mountain golden. The beauty of this is almost painful…

As the plane turns and the mountain gets dragged out of sight I suddenly get this feeling of a total anti-climax. I had one hour of sleep in the last twenty-four hours. I am feeling tired and exhausted on all levels. For a moment I ask myself why on earth I am on this plane.

Then I breathe and sink back into the seat easing myself into the space. I start feeling that there is no point in asking myself such questions since I can’t really go anywhere else now. I get a sense of peacefulness.

It is this feeling of being in transition. I have left one place because I decided I wanted to go somewhere else. Now I am in this space between places and in the time it takes to get from one to the other.

It is a familiar feeling, a feeling that airports and planes hold. I look around me and feel a strange bond with all the strangers on the plane. All these people come from different places and for very different reasons have decided to travel to some other place. Their lives are so different. There is not much talking going on between the strangers, yet they are all sharing the same space for a whole day, all of them in transition.

I can sense that some of these people hate this state for the very same reason that leaves me with a sense of peacefulness.

Today no movement is possible. It is not so much the fact that you can’t stretch your legs without knocking over the glass of water in front of you. It is much more the feeling of not being able to shift anything either in the place you are coming from or in the place you are going to. You cannot even change the route or the timing in which to get somewhere. All of us are at this point in time completely reliant on the technicalities of the airplane and the abilities of the pilot.

Why does this make me feel peaceful? I certainly feel that the freedom and the ability to make choices is an important part of our lives. Being in a position where you can make choices about where you want to be or what you want to do is a precious thing, but once a choice is made we also need to learn to trust the process of getting where we chose to go to.

This brings me back to the transitional feeling I have sitting on this flight from Cape Town to Berlin. This is a situation where all I can do is sit and trust that I will get to where I need to get to without me doing anything more. I have made all the arrangements and am now on a journey. So why not trust that I have chosen the right path and use this time to be grateful for the moments I have had where I come from and looking forward to the moments I will experience where I am going to?!

Back to earth

Hey everyone!

I think when I wrote my last post my mind was a bit all over the place so I was getting slightly carried away with my thoughts... Sorry, had a very rough weekend ;-)

Feeling a bit more down to earth again and just wanted to send out a big smile to all of you!

:)))))))

Gratitude

Yet another day that brings me back to thinking about plans and about this feeling of wanting to have control over ones life. We think we understand the fact that change is the only constant in life and that we cannot have comlete control. But thinking about this and actually accepting it are two very different things.

So far I have spent about 26 years on this planet and different people, events and emotions have crossed my path. Some have walked with me for a while some only appeared for a brief moment. These experiences have shaped the way I look at life and the way I live it. I see and interpret things because of how I have learned and decided to relate to the world.

So what if things do not happen according to how I expect them to be and how I think they fit into my logic about life?

I ask myself, why?!

This huge thing called ego comes out, convincing me that I have done something wrong; that I just have to find out what it is and then I will be able to fix things.

That is how most of us operate most of the time. That is how we are taught to think: Something goes wrong, we must analyse it, find the mistake, and do it differently next time. This is a useful approach, but only if we do not forget about the fact that our conclusions are always drawn from a foundation of assumptions, experiences and interpretations.

If a scientist for example performs an experiment and draws a conclusion from the results he or she has to be aware that his conclusion will always be a model only and will never describe the true nature of things.
The reason for this is that in setting up the experiment one has to use ones current understanding of the relationship of the variables. This does not mean that performing the experiment is a waste of time and the result without value. Science has offered very valuable insight and progress and will continue to do so. But only if we remain open to the fact that our findings can never be more than a model for the real nature of things, will we be able to progress further. We have to be able to put our ego aside and embrace unexpected findings.

However, this is not a thought that is exclusively applicable to science, it is applicable to all areas of our lives. How can we possibly assume that the way we perceive the world based on our own personal experiences resembles the truth? Again it is our ego that makes us believe this. And the danger in this is that we think if we do everything right according to our concept of life we will succeed in whatever we do.
Again, there is nothing wrong with using our experiences as a basis for how we choose to live our lives, as long as we remain open to surprises.

This sounds easy but how often do we think we are aware of this concept but still are so caught up in our own world. Sometimes only a traumatising or life threatening event can make us realize how pre-occupied we are with our own ideas about life. We forget, what a fragile treasure this life is. We or someone we love could be wiped out tomorrow by an earthquake, a life threatening disease or simply a car accident on the road without us having any control over the event.

So how can we possibly think that us doing “everything right” will result in complete control. Why are we so unable to accept, embrace and be grateful for unexpected events?

Yes, each and every one of us expriences difficult times and times of crisis. And one of the most important things is, that we have a space to express our sadness, grief and frustration. And hopefully even in times like that we will be able to look beyond our ego and feel gratitude for the gift of life and the oppotunity to grow every day.

Saturday 5pm

What am I doing with my day? It is Saturday 5 pm. What have I done today? Besides a walk around the corner to the tailor and to the shops I have just been sitting in this flat.

In the last few days, weeks, months I have done so much. And yet, how much has actually happened? Getting up, running, working, organizing, talking, wanting, trying, searching for a path that feels true. Getting tired, exhausted – all this effort and still not closer to where I need to be.

I stop. I sit here. The whole day.

Outside the mist is covering the mountain. Even if I wanted this to be the clearest day of the year, I couldn’t go up there and turn that mist away. It would be a completely pointless thing to do. That thought makes me feel peaceful and allows me be to grateful for the warm, safe space that I have.

My mind starts wondering off. Thinking about my Aikido training this week.
Because we have some gradings coming up, classes have been focused on very basic techniques. I remember my frustration in some moments. (For those of you who know me on the mat – guess what techniques: Yes, spot on – Kote gaeshi and Irimi nage ;-)

I know the movement. I see it in my head. I remember my teachers words about it, see the beauty of their movements passing through my mind. With all that in my mind I execute the technique. But nothing happens. Why? I’ve done it hundreds of times. Have practiced so much and still I get stuck.

And for a split second I am able to look at myself. I have so many details in my mind of what I think this technique looks like that I had forgotten about uke (the person that attacks). I had my own timing, a clear picture of how I wanted to get where I thought I needed to get to. Forgetting about the timing, the constitution, the movement, the intention of that person I was training with. I was in my own time zone, in this case moving way too quickly, taking shortcuts, just to realize that in the end I was no closer to where I needed to be.

I don’t want to say that all those times that I have practiced the movement of my hands and feet, and the right body placement are worthless. They are important and I need to practice these moves many many more times. All I realized was that all this effort has no value if I forget about the nature of the challange that I am facing.

Just as I felt this on the mat this week I feel it as I sit here looking at the mountain. I realize, that all this trying, moving and fixing that often determines our lives has no value if we forget to pay attention to the space and the timing that a particular challange requires.

So today I decided to stop. Realizing that there are no shortcuts to where I need to be. And just by stopping to do things and accepting that I cannot force the timing I find a peace that has been gone for a long long time.

Nothing doing

This post is not my own writing. It is from “The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. I found this in a magazine more than a year ago and since then have rediscovered it many times so I just want to share this here...

“I long for a small respite from the reaching, a moment of sweet stillness, quiet darkness, the great silence that can penetrate and loosen the small hard knots of endless trying. I want to quit running from my own tiredness I want to be willing and able to move only as fast as I am capable of moving, while still remaining connected to the impulse to move from deep within, stopping when I have lost that slender thread of desire and having the courage and faith to wait, in stillness, until I find it again.”

- Oriah Mountain Dreamer
(The Invitation)

What if?

I wrote this post about two weeks ago.
It just didn’t feel right to post it yet.
Today it feels right.

A little while ago I wrote about the feeling when something or someone comes into our lives and makes us forget about our plans. The plans that we make so carefully just to ensure that nothing upstets us too much or excites us too much.

Every day I am faced with plans. With my own plans and with those of other peole. It is normal and gives life a certain framework. We have our short-term plans that help us get through the day and long-term plans for our lives and even for the lives of others.

I often get asked questions like: Where are you planning to go? How long are you planning to stay? What are you planning to do? – Be it in work, love, friendship or any other part of life.

Sometimes I try and give answers to these questions.
Sometimes I simply say: “I don’t know” and nothing more.

Usually the response to that is : “Oh yes, that’s right. Just see where life takes you. We never know anyway.” But I still see that puzzled look on the persons face as they turn away. They don’t know how to respond. Because they don’t have anything to hold on to.
But it is not just others. I also find myself asking the exact same questions about my own life. And I have the same puzzled look on my face when I don’t get an answer.

Plans help us to get through life when everything goes smothly. Linear – like we (for some obscure reason) expect life to be. But what if something unexpected happens?
It might just be a glimpse of something new that we integrate into our lives as one of those special moments.But what if it screws up our plans? And we find ourselves in a situation we never expected? It might bring us feelings we never knew existed. Feelings of endless joy or endless sadness or even both.

What ever it is that suddenly makes us question our plans, we will never be prepared. And in times like that we rarely receive understanding and empathy for our feelings. Not because our friends, partners or family don’t love us but because no one is prepared. No one knows how to deal with us.

Although each and every one of us has experienced such sudden unsettling changes we have not learned how to receive them. We re-act. Sometimes with resistance, sometimes with withdrawl. We struggle until we have rearranged our plans according to the new circumstances. And then we wait – until the next unexpected event hits us and unsettles our plans again.

This will work for a while and we might believe we are handling our lives well. But from inside it slowly starts to drain us. We become tired and close our hearts.

What if there is a way to learn to embrace the surprise and uncertainty that life has to offer? What if we can learn to let go of our attachment to a particular outcome and find a spirit that allows us to live life the way it really is?

Just a thank you to Sensei Franco Martufi and everyone that trained with us this weekend. I had a wonderful time and enjoyed every moment of it!!!

Just feeling good today

Cape Town, a Friday in April. It is grey outside (yes, even CT gets grey days ;-)

How often do I step out the door in the morning just feeling very good about being in this world on a grey day like this?

Today is such a day. It is not the weather or the coming weekend. It is just a feeling of being connected, whole and relaxed. I even manage to not try and hold on to this feeling. It is just there :)

The Dragonfly

It was on the train from Simons Town to Muizenberg that I looked out the window and saw this lady stepping out the pub at Kalk Bay station. She turned her head and I felt like I could almost hear her thinking.

Was the train going to be on time today?
Would she make it home so that she could carry on with her plans for the day?

Just a second later a little boy came running out the bar. Excited about something, pointing his finger at the mountain. Or was it the beach? or maybe a stranger walking past? I don’t know what the little boy had on his mind. I just know, that it was not the train being late that occupied his thoughts.

The lady looked at the little boy, forgetting for a moment about the dinner she had to prepare at home. Just trying to see what the boy was so excited about.

My train left the station dragging the lady and the boy out of sight.

I still have this picture in my mind now sitting on the balcony looking at the sun going down behind the mountain. It leaves me with a sense of peace. I am just human.

Knowing that life never sticks to the plans I make I still have them – like most of us. But then there are these moments where someone, a child, a friend, a stranger, a smile, a word, a cat or a dragonfly makes us forget about our plans. Just showing us something we have never looked at before. Or even something we have looked at a thousand times before but have never seen it.

News from the mat

The day yesterday made me think about Aikido, about what it means to me, about the wonderful teachers I have had, about how much I have learned and how much I still need to learn.

One of my teachers said once: “You must be like a big still mountain lake!”

(or “Grosser stiller Bergsee”, which catches the feeling of it a bit better).

I am very grateful for him to have taught me about the meaning of this calm spot inside and how to access it better and better. So for those of you in Berlin who might think I’ve left the mat permanently – sorry to take that illusion from you… I know it might sound strange to some of you but I can’t handle life without being able to throw some boys around sometimes ;-)

So I have found a place in Cape Town where I can keep up my training. Although we are sometimes “lacking a few Hakamas” on the mat it has been great to train with the people at UCT and it is inspiring to be able to show those that are new to Aikido what it is – or can be – about. I have found a teacher that I feel I can learn a lot from and so am enjoying the classes very much.

Altogether Aikido is not as popular in South Africa as it is in Germany. The reason for this is not so easy to grab, but one major problem is certainly the past isolation of the country. It is not only the fact that hardly any of the big teachers from all over the world have ever come out here but also that those who wanted to develop there Aikido had to go overseas to do so and to eventually grade.

So it is great to see things change and develop. Last weekend we had a teacher from the United States giving a seminar and I am hoping for more opportunities like that. Maybe someone from Germany is keen to come out? (hint, hint ;-)

With this I send out a big THANK YOU to all the “Seven (and extended seven) Samurais” in Berlin and Cape Town! I hope your training (and of course the rest of your life if you have such a thing ;-) is going well.

Lots of sunshine from hot Cape Town (meant to be 32 today – sorry Berlin, sure you’ll catch up soon…) CU soon on the mat!

Regina

Who am I and if yes how many?

_
Sometimes it feels like we are just shadows. Depending on the light, our position and on the angle from which people look at us we might look small or big, strong or weak. But would there be a shadow without a solid object? We might not be able to change the sunlight, but we can change our position and the angle from which we look at ourselves and others. We might even look up and see what is beyond the shadow...

I know, a very philosophical start for this page but don't worry, it's not all gonna be like this.... I'll post some "down to earth stuff" soon.
Lots of warm sunlight to all of you who are still caught up in the cold and a fresh breeze to those who feel like they need to cool down :)

Koerper und Seele

Auch dies ist ein Beitrag aus dem Projekt 2005 der im Mai letzten Jahres zum Thema "Koerper" entstanden ist:

„Jetzt reicht’s mir!!!“ schreit die Seele den Körper an. „Das kann ja wohl nicht wahr sein! Länger lass ich mir die Scheiße hier nicht gefallen. Das ist doch lächerlich, wie du hier rumzickst. Ist ja auch kein Wunder, dumm wie du bist. Da kann man ja nicht mitkriegen wie die Sache läuft. Falls du es also noch nicht weißt, du kannst nicht einfach machen was du willst. Weiß doch heute jedes Kind, dass man Körper und Seele nicht getrennt betrachten kann, sondern dass sie miteinander in Verbindung stehen. Wie wäre es also, wenn du endlich mal mit deinem Egoisten-trip aufhörst und auch mal an mich denkst?“

Der Körper sieht ziemlich klein aus, wie die Seele ihm da so gegenüber steht und ihn zur Schnecke macht. Er hatte das eigentlich anders verstanden. Er sieht zur Seele auf und schaut betroffen aber auch ziemlich wütend aus. Er mag die Seele eigentlich sehr und sie sind immer gute Freunde gewesen. Sie half ihm und er half ihr. Und nun schreit sie Ihn so völlig respektlos an. Der Körper findet das unfair.

„Also jetzt gehst du wirklich zu weit“, sagt der Körper. „Was soll das? Du warst doch völlig erschöpft. Und ich übrigens auch. Falls es dir entgangen ist, du hast auch nicht besonders auf mich geachtet. Mit deinem ganzen Hin und Her hast du mich doch geradezu dazu getrieben mich einzuschalten. Soll ich vielleicht tatenlos zusehen wie du uns beide in den Abgrund wirtschaftest?“

„Wie bitte? Ich höre wohl nicht richtig?!“ Die Seele scheint sichtlich empört. „Ich habe mir solche Mühe gegeben. Du weißt es doch selber. Die Umstände sind nicht gerade einfach und schließlich bin ich es auf der das Herz seine ganzen Gefühle ablädt und der Verstand seine gesamten Gedanken. Meinst du vielleicht das ist einfach?“

„Nein, das glaube ich ganz und gar nicht,“ antwortet der Körper, „aber in aller Freundschaft – du warst meiner Meinung nach etwas auf dem falschen Pfad. Ich meine was soll das? Du stürzt das Herz von einem Gefühlschaos ins nächste und hetzt dann den Verstand gegen es auf. Und die ganze Zeit bist du völlig davon besessen die Kontrolle über alles und jeden haben zu wollen. Das ist nicht fair. Und ich habe dir doch angesehen, dass dich das auch völlig fertig macht. Du hast doch schon ganz schwarze Ringe unter den Augen. Meinst du ich sehe nicht, dass du völlig fertig bist und nicht mehr zur Ruhe kommst?“

Die Seele starrt den Körper an und bleibt stumm.

Der Körper fährt fort: „Und dann hast du mich da auch noch mit rein gezogen. Wir sind eben nicht unabhängig voneinander. Du hast mich ganz schön mies behandelt. Um nicht zu sagen du hast mich zeitweise völlig ignoriert. Irgendwann musste ich mich da einfach einschalten. Oder soll ich vielleicht zusehen wie du uns beide kaputt machst?“

Plötzlich ist es die Seele die klein aussieht. Sie hat Tränen in den Augen und fragt – noch immer ein wenig trotzig: „Und was bezweckst du jetzt mit deiner glorreichen Idee? Jetzt sitzen wir doch beide hier und können uns kein Stück mehr bewegen. Willst du dich an mir rächen?“

„Natürlich nicht“, sagt der Körper nun schon viel versöhnlicher. „Ich möchte dass du mir zuhörst. Wie gesagt, du mutest dir und deiner Umgebung zuviel zu. Du bist zu ungeduldig. Es wird sich gar nichts lösen, wenn du wie eine Verrückte im Kreis herumrennst und doch völlig gelähmt bist vor Angst. Du bist völlig besessen geworden von der Idee eine Lösung zu finden und das Herz und der Verstand haben sich auch schon bei mir beschwert. Du hetzt sie gegeneinander auf. Das hilft uns nicht. Was du brauchst ist Ruhe. Du musst lernen, dass du nicht alles unter Kontrolle hast. Und vor allem solltest du auch lernen mal Hilfe anzunehmen. Glaubst du mir gefällt es, dass ich keine Bewegung bekomme? Ich weiß wie sehr es dich geschockt hat, dass ich dir meine Unterstützung genommen habe. Ich habe dir die einzigen Momente genommen, in denen du mal ganz abschalten konntest. Aber das war nötig. Wir müssen wieder zusammen arbeiten. Einer alleine schafft das nicht.“

Der Seele laufen große Krokodilstränen über die Wangen. Ein wenig erstickt flüstert sie: „Du hast recht. Es tut mir leid. Ich hätte vorher auf dich hören sollen. Aber ich habe doch mein Bestes versucht.“

„Aber das weiß ich doch.“ Der Körper legt der Seele den Arm um die Schulter. „Es geht doch auch gar nicht darum sich gegenseitig Vorwürfe zu machen. Ich weiß wie schwer es für dich zurzeit ist. Aber ich bin dein Freund und will dir so gut ich kann helfen. Wir müssen einfach auf einander hören. Was sagst du? Friede?“

Die Seele lächelt und wischt ihre Tränen weg. „Okay. Friede. Ich danke dir.“

Und dann sitzen sie noch eine lange Zeit da – der Körper und die Seele – und halten sich an den Händen ohne ein Wort zu sagen. Spüren einfach die Gegenwart des Anderen und den Frieden, der sie verbindet.

Ein Dankeschoen

Wie auch der vorige Beitrag ist dies ein Teil des 2005 Projektes. Diese sind Gedanken zum Thema "Freundschaft" die im April 2005 entstanden sind. Der Dank gilt aber noch heute - nicht nur meinen deutschsprachigen Freunden:

Normalerweise schreibt man einen Brief an eine Person. Dieser Brief ist an mehrere Personen gerichtet. Er ist an sehr unterschiedliche Personen gerichtet, die für mich aber eines verbindet, nämlich dass sie meine Freunde sind oder es vielleicht auch nur eine Zeit lang waren. Sie alle sind sehr unterschiedliche Menschen und sehr unterschiedliche Freunde – aber für diesen Brief macht das nichts aus. Jeder meiner Freunde sollte sich durch ihn angesprochen fühlen.

Liebe Freundschaft,

Mit diesem Brief möchte ich Dir danken.

Ich möchte Dir danken, dass du für mich da warst und es noch immer bist, dass du mich nie alleine gelassen hast.

Ich danke dir dafür, dass du da warst in meiner Kindheit. Dass du mit mir die Morgen der Wochenenden mit Phantasie-Reisen ins Playmobil-Land und die Abende mit Reisen ins Kuscheltierland verbracht hast. Dass du mir auf dem Weg zum Sport Geschichten erzählt hast, dass ich mit Dir im Sommerregen auf dem Balkon baden durfte. Dass du mit mir Schulzeitungen gebastelt hast und dass wir Schneckenrennen veranstaltet haben.

Ich danke dir dafür, dass du da warst in meiner Jugend. Dass du mit mir endlos die gleichen Jungs beim Fußball spielen beobachtet hast. Dass du mir zum ersten Mal gezeigt hast wie es ist, sich mit jemandem wirklich verbunden zu fühlen. Ich habe von dir gelernt, was es heißt jemanden zu haben, dem ich Geheimnisse anvertrauen konnte. Jemandem, der mich nicht verurteilt, sondern mich annimmt als die die ich bin. Ich habe durch dich gesehen, wie wunderschön es ist grenzenloses Vertrauen entgegen gebracht zu bekommen. Habe gelernt wie viel es Wert ist, mit jemandem Lachen zu können – über lustige und über ernste Dinge. Mit dir konnte ich feiern – ob mit Grund oder ohne Grund. Brauchte mir mit dir keine Gedanken machen, ob ich den Geschmack von Feigling und saurem Apfel noch unterscheiden konnte. Ich konnte lachen mit dir und weinen. Stark sein und schwach.

Ich danke dir, dass du all die letzten Jahre für mich da warst. Danke dir, dass du mich aufgefangen hast, als meine erste Liebe zerbrochen ist und ich das Gefühl hatte daran zu zerbrechen. Ich habe durch dich gespürt, dass nichts unverändert bleibt. Dass auch du dich änderst, so wie ich mich ändere. Du hast erlebt, dass es nicht immer einfach ist mit mir zusammen zu sein. Dass ich anstrengend sein kann und launisch und hast mich trotzdem geliebt. Du hast mich getragen, durch Zeiten des Zweifels, der Angst und des Schmerzes und durch Zeiten der Freude und des Überflusses.


Ich danke dir, dass du heute für mich da bist. Dass du an mich denkst und mir manchmal eine E-Mail schickst oder mich anrufst. Dass du nicht an mir Zweifelst, sondern mich annimmst, so wie ich bin. Ein gradliniger Mensch bin ich ganz und gar nicht. Bin ein sehr gefühlvoller Mensch, der oft zerrissen ist und schwankt. Du hast mich immer mit diesen Seiten und vielleicht gerade wegen dieser Seiten geliebt. Du nimmst meine Liebe, meine Unterstützung und mein Vertrauen an. Du siehst die Schönheit in mir, so wie ich sie in dir sehe.

Es ist ein Geschenk zu wissen, dass du mich so akzeptierst, wie ich bin und doch ehrlich und kritisch mit mir bist. Oft bin ich verstrickt in meine eigene Welt, verliere manchmal den Kontakt zu mir und manchmal sogar zu dir. Danke, dass du mich dann nicht alleine lässt. Dass du mich da herausholst. Manchmal auf eine sanfte, liebevolle Art und manchmal auf eine sehr energische Art. Ich danke dir für die Momente in denen du mir den Spiegel vor hältst und mich mit mir und meinen eigenen Fehlern und Schwächen konfrontierst. Damit ich lernen kann – wachsen kann. Mit und an dir.

Ich bin unendlich froh und dankbar, dass du Teil meines Lebens bist. Mit all deinen Kontrasten, Ecken und Kanten.

Schön, dass es Dich gibt.

Regina

Herbstliche Fruehlingsgefuehle

Dieser Eintrag ist eigentlich Teil eines Projektes aus 2005, das leider nie "veroeffentlicht" wurde. Der Plan Dies sind Gedanken zum Thema "Fruehling" die im Maerz 2005 entstanden sind:

„Na?! Wie geht’s dir? Jetzt wo endlich Frühling ist geht es einem doch gleich richtig gut, oder? Da fühlt man doch so richtig den Neuanfang, da blüht man doch selbst richtig auf! Wenn man die ganze Krokusse sieht, wie die ihre kleinen Köpfchen aus der Erde strecken. Es ist als würde alles auf einmal neu erwachen und das Leben wieder so richtig beginnen. Das ist doch einfach ein tolles Gefühl, ODER? Hey, sag doch mal was – Was machen deine Frühlingsgefühle……“

Ich stehe da und befinde mich nicht mehr in meinem Körper. Ich starre diese Frau an, die Ihre Frühlingshaften „Neuanfangs-ich-fühl-mich-wie-ein-neuer-mensch-gefühle“ über mich ergießt. Kenne ich diese Frau? Was versucht sie mir da zu erzählen?

Frühling.

Ist das ein Zustand? Und wenn ja wessen Zustand ist es? Ein Zustand der Natur? Ein Zustand der Wetterlage? Ein Zustand des Krokus-Kopfes? Ein Zustand der Welt? Oder etwa ein Zustand des Menschen?

Ich frage mich warum ich nie einem Menschen begegne der diese „Neuanfangs-ich-fühl-mich-wie-ein-neuer-mensch-gefühle“ zu Beginn des Winters über mich ergießt. Ich fühle mich desorientiert. Eben noch herrschte Herbst. Der Frühling ist jetzt und hier auf diesem kleinen Flecken Erde während an einem anderen Fleck Erde weit im Süden auf Afrikanischem Boden Herbst ist. Nicht der Herbst, den wir hier kennen. Ein langer warmer und sonniger Herbst. Ein trockener Herbst in dem sich die meisten Menschen den Regen wünschen weil sie ihre Gärten nur noch ein Mal pro Woche für zwanzig Minuten wässern dürfen. Diese Menschen haben sicher im Frühling – pardon, im Herbst noch nicht die selben „Krokus-assoziierten-mir-geht-es-ja-so-gut-gefühle“ kennen gelernt. Schade für sie, denn es ist etwas Besonderes wenn nach so langem Winterschlaf die Erde wieder aufbricht – die Menschen wieder aufbrechen.

Sie tun es, sie tun es überall um mich herum. Gestern hat mich mein Nachbar, der mir sonst niemals in die Augen sieht gegrüßt. Ich bin mir ziemlich sicher, dass auch er den Krokus-Gefühlen erlegen war. Wie schön für ihn. Ich lächle zurück und grüße ihn. Nur fehlt mir da etwas. Es ist das Krokus-Gefühl. Ich merke, dass ich wütend bin auf all die Krokusse und Osterglocken und verdammten Schneeglöckchen. Sie scheinen mir mit ihren bunten fröhlichen Farben eine Erklärung zu klauen. Ich komme nicht hinterher hinter dem Frühling.
Wo ist er, der Neuanfang? Wo ist die Klarheit mit der alles Leben so klein und rein neu beginnt. Wo ist die Energie, die aus all den gelben und lila Blüten in die Wellt hinaus schreit? Diese Krokusse wachsen viel zu schnell, denke ich. Und überhaupt – warum erwartet diese Frau die mir da gegenüber steht dass so ein Krokus-Kopf meine Seele plötzlich umkrempelt? Vielleicht ist in meiner Seele gar nicht Frühling, vielleicht ist dort Herbst. Und überhaupt, wer sagt denn dass es in meiner Welt nicht auch mehrere Jahreszeiten gibt. Vielleicht befinde ich mich gar nicht im Berliner Frühling sondern im Afrikanischen Herbst. Oder vielleicht im Berliner Herbst mit Afrikanischen Krokussen?

In diesem Moment kehre ich wieder zurück in meinen Körper. Ich starre sie immer noch an, diese Frau in mir, die von mir erwartet, dass meine Seele im Gleichschritt mit den Krokussen marschiert. Es funktioniert nicht. Ich bin kein Krokus.

Ich wende den Blick von den kreischenden gelben und lila Blüten und sehe die Trauerweiden die am Wasser stehen. Und plötzlich sehe ich den Frühling. Die Äste, die den ganzen Winter braun herunter hingen zeigen einen leichten, leisen Schatten von Grün. Eine sanfte stille Energie, die sich langsam ihren Weg bahnt. Und in diesem Moment habe ich ein Frühlings-Gefühl.

Kein Krokus-Gefühl.

Ein Weiden Gefühl.