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Life is too short for boring stories

18. The ambiguity of the living

 

Because life loses itself in the uniqueness, it gains in the ambiguity. What was is clear, as far as our memory permits clarity. What is is ambiguous in its possibilities. Some things can be anticipated. But often enough, we are surprised, and as soon as we think that now nothing can come, nothing more that we have not seen, something that we do not already know, something that we did not expect, there is still something that does not cover our experience, which we could not anticipate, in the uniqueness of the happening, in all the ambiguity of the living. Again and again we are surprised. There is nothing to evaluate, it is neither good nor bad. It is like it is.

 

“Every day is the same,” said Rebekka, who seemed to be rather depressed this evening.

“Every day is different,” Lilith said, in all serenity of soul, as if she were not doing nothing.

“What can be different in all these days?”, asked Rebekka, challenging, “getting up, taking the time, with the same things, sleeping in the evening. Day after day. Week after week. Month for month. Until the end of my life. The only thing that changes is that I get older and just do not get up again one day. The at least would then be a thankful change. Sometimes it seems to me that you do all that you do, just because time passes. Somehow. You have to do that, otherwise it would just be worse. “

“Sometimes you really like it,” said Ruben thoughtfully, “I also sometimes have moods where I think that it does not matter anyway that it makes no difference.”

“What do you mean by moods?” Rebekka asked, obviously not serious. Not seriously enough, “This is not just a mood. That’s a fact.”

“No, facts are things that we have before us, which are definitely the way they are, but no one can tell you what the next day brings you,” Ruben said, “Yes, a lot of days are the same. This can be seen as dull, or as something which is repeated again and again and again. It is as if one were in the famous hamster wheel, in which one only takes the place without going forward. But one could also see it as a day of peace and quiet, of breathing through. You can rest in your routine because there are also other days, exciting and extraordinary. “

“Just you have to say where you are here every day and drink tea and carve and what do I know what,” said Rebekka.

“Just as I sit and learn at school every day, and everything is alike. It always starts again, “added Samuel, who had finally settled his books,” Eternally and always the same. “

“But you have at least the holidays you can look forward to,” Rebekka said, “There’s a lot going on.”

“Do you think? Is not it the same, but you do not have to get up so early. Otherwise, I see no big difference, “Samuel said.

“I thought for a long time after my wife and my children were no longer with me, that now nothing would come,” began Ruben.

“I was also tempted to pull myself off,” Lilith admitted, “I thought I was going to sit in the house, get up, get up every morning, despite everything, and do whatever else I did . I could have left it there too. But there is always another possibility. “

“And that would be?” Rebekka asked, who probably did not quite believe there could be an answer to this question. And if there was an answer, then no, which would make sense to her.

“The first was that I actually stayed inside and did everything as far as before, because the routine and the eternal match also provide security,” said Lilith, “the second was that I opened up, in the double sense of the word. Opened, left the house and saw what life and the world still provided for me. But also in the sense that I opened up to these new possible impressions also perceptible. Open to the unforeseen and the unpredictable. And so it was also possible for me to see the store here. If I had not been open, I would not have seen it. Perhaps, but as a resident store, as there are so many. But I saw a possibility in it, and I took it without knowing how it would or could look. “

“And that was the reason why I found myself here and found you because I was open to what was beyond the routine and the everyday life still in life,” explained Ruben, “That’s why I stopped. That is why I looked up, and what I had found was something I had never expected, with which I could never have reckoned, for to calculate at least some variables must be known. But life is ambiguity. It has deviations and ramifications, which we can not overlook. “

“Hope,” Samuel said abruptly, “it is the hope that makes this possible. The hope that tomorrow brings something we have not determined, but what is given to us. The trafficked, who has not experienced a pain-free day for a long time, but is hoping for it. Hope is the insight into the ambiguity of life, but an insight that is joyful and expectant. Hope is the gift we make, because we take life seriously by accepting change. Hope is the stillness of life against lifelessness. Hope holds us in life and joy in it and in it. “

“And if we look carefully, if we are honest with ourselves, we can discover much that we were not allowed to experience. And that can always be, every day, at every moment. If we allow ourselves to turn to the hope that it can be, then it can be, “said Ruben.

“Hope is the gift I make by believing my life that it has potential,” said Lilith.

“Hope as a gift I’m doing?” Rebekka repeated thoughtfully, “Maybe I’ll give myself a present today.”

 

And that evening a clover-leaf was found in the display, a symbol of the hope which allowed the ambiguity of life. Again and again we can surprise ourselves if we allow ourselves to be surprised.

Go to part 19 here

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