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Ups and Downs

Ups and DownsThat what I mistakenly think I am

Clings to the little personal story.

Experiences its ups and downs

In the countless situations of everyday life.

That it suffers at least as much as it feels happy,

It does not see.

That it permanently runs in circles,

Appears like a nasty joke.

To withdraw all energy from this illusion,

To slowly dry it out,

That’s the direction of the gateless gate.

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WantingI thought I wanted to write something.

But then came our cat,

Squinted at me and wanted to be pet.

Actually it is rather often the case

That Andreas wants something

And Cosmos wants something else.

Over here it became quite natural

To follow what Cosmos suggests.

Even for Andreas

From what Andreas wants,

Only stories arise.

Out of what Cosmos suggests,

Something completely different unfolds.

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No desire

Over here there is no desire to change this life. To optimize it, to make dreams come true or to accomplish goals.

Even if everything would be be wonderful, even if everything would be bliss and eternal happiness, what then?

All of this would only be better as long as it is the life of Andreas. As long as there is a somebody saying “mine” to this life. As long as thoughts compare things back then with today.
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As soon as we open the eyes

As soon as we open the eyesAs soon as we open the eyes we only see our little personal story in action. All objects, all persons around us, are actors in our personal play.

Seemingly following an unknown script, our life proceeds. Day after day, year after year.

Only if this “me”, only if this “we” disappears from these sentences, the personal story can be seen through.

When eyes open without an “I” thinking that they are mine; when seeing happens without a see-er – in this second time stands still. No more words, no more categories, no more drama.

No matter where “my” finger points – Oneness in a thousand different shapes.

Familiar, even without a name. Just in the right place.

Also when I point at this body here.

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Stories2I am not my personal little story, I am beyond it. This sentence occurred here several times.

But what exactly is my personal story? What am I not?

A human or spiritual being, a man or a woman – that are just stories.

Born, incarnated, bound by time and space – I am neither.
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Solid ground under the feet

Fester BodenAs soon as the personal story is seen through, we can be fully within the present moment, dissolving in it.

No one there who would feel threatened by the present moment.

No one there who would find wrongness in the present moment.

No one there who wants to wrestle with the present moment, wanting to master it.

Could, Would, Should are seen through.

Solid ground under the feet. A fresh breeze in the nose.

What Is becomes immediately apparent.

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A fearful incarnation

Even if you don’t notice your small personal story – it is there nevertheless. Like the canvass on which this incarnation apparently unfolds. There is nothing wrong with that because every incarnation needs a story.

The unfortunate fact is that every story in its core is based upon fear. And it doesn’t have to be the obvious fears. Very often the central fears of our incarnation are rather subtle. Like the fear not to be worthy of love and belonging. The fear to be a fake, a pretense. Oftentimes we aren’t even aware of them.

And so we are stuck in an incarnation full of fear, we are fearfully incarnated. Even if we become heroes – that would still be motivated out of fear.
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Eine ängstliche Inkarnation

Auch wenn du deine kleine persönliche Geschichte überhaupt nicht wahrnimmst, so ist sie doch trotzdem da. Wie die Leinwand, auf der sich diese Inkarnation scheinbar entfaltet. Und daran ist nichts verkehrt, denn jede Inkarnation braucht die Geschichte. Jede Inkarnation braucht irgend eine Geschichte.

Das Blöde ist nur, dass jede Geschichte im Kern immer auf Angst aufgebaut ist. Dabei geht es gar nicht um die offensichtlichen Ängste. Häufig sind die Kernängste unserer Inkarnation sehr subtil. Wie zum Beispiel die Angst, nicht wirklich liebenswert zu sein, nicht würdig zu sein, irgendwie unecht oder falsch zu sein. Oftmals sind uns diese Ängste gar nicht bewusst.

Und so stecken wir in einer Inkarnation voller Angst, sind irgendwie ängstlich inkarniert. Und selbst wenn wir zu Helden werden, so ist das dann auch nur durch Angst motiviert.

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Catch 22

Everything about you that is established, inflexible or clearly defined is just a component of your small personal story.

All your strengths, all your shortcomings. All your victories, all your defeats. All your opinions, all your right and wrongs. All your character traits: Just building blocks of a petty story.

Beyond the story there is no need for stiffness, for rigidness.

Beyond the story the present moment flows calmly from Now to Now.

A part of you likes that, longs for this constantly changing liveliness.

Another part is petrified. Is terrified to question everything that you have been apparently fighting for so long. That you have been apparently suffering for so long.

And so you find yourself between a rock and a hard place. Catch 22.

And now?

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Zwischen Baum und Borke

Alles an dir, was festgefügt, starr oder klar definiert ist, ist nur eine Komponente deiner kleinen persönlichen Geschichte.

Alle deine Stärken, all deine Schwächen. All deine Erfolge, all deine Niederlagen. All deine Meinungen, all dein Richtig und Falsch. All deine Charaktereigenschaften: Alles nur Bausteine einer kleinen Geschichte.

Jenseits der Geschichte gibt es keinen Bedarf an Starrheit, an harten Kanten.

Jenseits der Geschichte fließt der gegenwärtige Moment unaufgeregt von Jetzt zu Jetzt.

Ein Teil von dir mag das, sehnt sich nach dieser sich wandelnden Lebendigkeit.

Ein anderer Teil hat höllische Angst davor. Angst davor, all das infrage zu stellen, wofür du scheinbar so lange gekämpft hast. Wofür du scheinbar so lange gelitten hast.

Also findest du dich zwischen Baum und Borke. Catch 22.

Und nun?