Life is too short for boring stories

Be simple, live, nothing more. Can it be easy to live and nothing else? The bottom row of the house of cards. One beside the other. No ballast from above. The lower rows do not have to support the upper ones because there are none. To be simple, in the needs, but not in the neediness. Well-being, what does it take to do that? Is it really all that we accumulate in homes and garages and wherever? Does it satisfy our wishes, or does it no longer contribute to our burden? The next row in the house of cards. The construct is still quite robust, but it has to be supported and worn. Need, which is put behind the needs. Neediness of the people for attention, exchange and togetherness. No time. We have to support the top row.

Being simple, in the midst of a civilization machine that builds row upon row, and every slight draft can bring down the whole house of cards. The more complex and complicated the entire structure, the easier it can be attacked and brought down. To be simple, by questioning the needs and looking back on the neediness.

To be simple, in the middle of a landscape where nobody wants to live, where there is no house to house, business to business, light to light, noise to noise. To be simple, in an environment that has largely been spared the human intervention that can still breathe and grow. Naturally. Uncut. Unencumbered. Being simple, in that little house that offers everything that meets neediness. Live together, work together and retreat.

Being simple, as surrendering to the world that is still healed. It’s cold in the middle of February in the Transylvanian Alps. As soon as we come to the door, winter attacks us with all relentlessness, driving us under the protective clothing, which we rely on as naked monkeys, under the skin, into the bones. We would like to turn around and sit down to the warm stove. Hide. No longer be delivered. But the untouched landscape invites also. The virgin blanket of snow that had not touched a foot before, as if the world around us had been recreated for us every morning, and yet to bear the safety of the ever-present. Reliability. The first row of the house of cards. Be easy. Step by step forward. The snow crunches underfoot when they sink into it. Slowly the body gets going. Bipedal. Four-legged. The world remains silent as they go forward. Step by step. Nothing else. Get involved in what is revealed, what can be heard and heard. Being in the middle of it instead of exercising domination.

Being simple in the midst of all that is alive, that wants nothing more than being easy. Nothing exciting, nothing spectacular. The banal miracle of life itself. Here it is experienced unused. Not covered by noise, not by light cascades. Four-legged companions storm ahead. They explore the surroundings, return home. The two-legged ones are so slow, but they move forward, because the mobility returns. Muscles get warm. The attention awakens. The vastness of the experience opens up. Return to the neediness. Experience together. Step by step. Pause. After your own rhythm, to focus attention. Moving on. Until the pace settles down. To understand neediness that does not demand a word, but is fulfilled in common action.

Be easy. Starting and ending point. Carefully remove the upper ranks of the house of cards until only those stable enough to meet the needs, the real needs, remain. To be simple, to turn. And when in the evening the fire blazes in the fireplace and a hot cup of tea steams, when the body comes to rest and the mind, then it is a bit of need and a lot of receptions.

To be simple – by accepting the arrival, to be in common being, a little feast, in the midst of normality.

Just be simple and be easy.

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