Life is too short for boring stories

17. Touch my soul


We meet so many people every day. There must be thousands, over time, weeks, months, years, decades. Most of them pass by. There is no encounter. It’s over. Sometimes we collide. There is no encounter. It’s an accident. We will be introduced to some of them. For a variety of reasons. There is no encounter. It is a view, because it can become one. And quite rarely we are brought together with someone who not only briefly stops, but pauses, does not just take a glance, but risks a reputation which betrays more, more revealing than would be advisable in another meeting. It is an encounter that touches, more than the skin, under the skin, to the core, which causes us to open. Building on nothing further than hoping that the touch remains a mindful, for the hand that touches can caress or pack, heal, or hurt. If they have the opportunity. In the open we give the possibility. We trust in the touch. We give ourselves up. It is good. It can be good. You have it in your hand.

“What is it that moves our steps?” Ruben asked, as he sat opposite Lilith, her hands in his.

“We always mean that we are ourselves, but it is an illusion,” Lilith said thoughtfully.

“Maybe not only, but also. I do not want to leave the idea of free will and the sensible own conscious decision, at least not quite, “said Ruben.

“In hindsight there is always an explanation. But there are also those at the moment when we are taking our steps, “said Lilith,” Sure, there is always something we have to go. To an appointment we have agreed. To a term we have set. But then there are also the ways we do not foresee. A walk that allows us to determine spontaneously or decide that we will not take the path we always take, but try a new one to discover that it is beautiful. Why, we ask ourselves, did not we discover that much earlier? “

“Because it was not yet time,” explained Ruben, “because we were not yet able to discover exactly this beauty. And when I had not seen the sign on that morning, the first time I came here, I would not have stopped. I could as well have passed it without perceiving it. Something was causing me to look. Something told me that it is good to enter. Something told me that it is good to stay. It was not even words. It was as it was, because it was and I allowed myself to. I have not opposed myself. “

“And because I let myself be led, here, on the evening when I forever shut the doorway to my old house and my old life, I was there and had hung up the shield you read,” said Lilith, “And whom or whatever I have to thank for this circumstance of the fact that you remained standing, and came and entered, that I might close and remain, and opened, it is good that it is.”

“And you offered me tea and your listening, and your history and your company,” said Ruben, “Your warmth and your affection. You offered me to meet you. “

“And you took it, the tea, listening, the story, the company,” said Lilith, “The warmth and the affable. You have accepted it. “

“And we groped our way,” explained Ruben, “Too much has happened. Too many scars we have carried away from an earlier than that it would be so easy to open. You become more cautious, automatic, because it can happen again and again. That one is wrong. “

“And we groped our way,” Lilith admitted, “But the moment comes when you have to decide. Do I enter or close? If I close, I’m sure. I cannot be hurt. I will definitely be safe.”

“If I decide to close myself, then I am safe and cannot be hurt and remain safe,” agreed Ruben, “but I cannot be satisfied either. I will not allow you to meet me if I do not allow you to touch me.”

“And we let ourselves in,” said Lilith, “I’m looking at you and you at me.”

“I look at you and you at me,” said Ruben, “We are on top of each other. And when we opened we were filled with what we were not, and yet we were filled with life that breathes and pulsates and is. “

“We got together, and life became fullness, full of joy and hope and confidence,” said Lilith. “As if I had awakened from another long, dreary, dreamless sleep into another world, into another reality. Through your touch. In your touch. Through the encounter. In the encounter. “

“And the world is like new. And the sky is like new. And life is like new, “explained Ruben,” as if it were possible to start a new beginning in life. “

“Not as though it is possible, and not only possible, it is livable, just like the touch, the encounter,” said Lilith.

“And the touch we gave was not only skin on skin,” Ruben thoughtfully, “For how often have we been touched, undesigned or intentional, no matter. The touch remained external. We felt it. In short, because the nerves in the skin respond to the touch and send the signal to the brain, but it is also nothing else. Touch, which happens, purely outwardly, and immediately disappears again. That happens often.”

“But it was a touch, skin on skin, but more, far more,” Lilith went on. “It was, it is a touch that goes under the skin, to the core, around my thinking and feeling winds and widening it.”

“It was, it is a touch that has burned itself into my heart and my soul and my thinking,” said Ruben, “There is no turning back when it has happened, for it is changing us sustainably. You can never go back beyond the experience we have been embracing.”

“Let’s get involved,” Lilith said.

“We give ourselves,” said Ruben.

“Let us give ourselves,” said Lilith.

“It is done to let us gone healed,” said Ruben.

“It is done to let us be healed,” said Lilith.


And on this evening a woven ribbon was found in the display, a symbol for the interwovenness in the touch, which the soul means, and yet the individual threads visible. Remaining and becoming new in one. Not denying oneself, and yet embracing. Wholeness and yet also part. Encounter that touches, to the core, we will and will remain.

Go to part 18 here

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