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Life is too short for boring stories

When was the last time you let the wind blow through your hair and nose?
When was the last time you walked barefoot across a soft forest floor?
When was the last time you touched the gnarled trunk of an old oak tree, gazed into its crown and let yourself be amazed by its majestic shape?
When was the last time you listened to the birds chirping?
When was the last time you lay under a beech tree and the sun’s rays that penetrate through the crown. seen dancing on the ground?
When was the last time you saw the hustle and bustle of ants in a colony?
When was the last time you saw bees fly from flower to flower?
When was the last time you danced through a wet meadow, barefoot, with arms outstretched and hands open?
When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?
When was the last time you just looked out and did nothing but feel life?
When was the last time you spontaneously dared to leave by simply opening the door and going out?
When was the last time you smiled at a stranger because it was just good for you?
When was the last time you saw the stars on a clear night?
When was the last time you saw the glowing red sky at sunrise?
When was the last time you caught snowflakes with your tongue?
When was the last time you experienced the invigorating power of a sip of water?
When was the last time you rocked?
When was the last time you felt involved in nature?
When was the last time you were happy?

Maybe it was yesterday or even today, not all at once, but at least one of them, or anything else that just happens with no benefit or purpose, at least what is defined as benefit or purpose, like making money with it or to support the making money or to recover from the money making thing. But also, things that contribute to prestige, such as driving an expensive car or having a big house, preferably with a swimming pool. Then there is no time for such benefit- and purposelessness. You have to shop or book the next veritable vacation. You have to be seen and sip a cocktail in the trendy restaurant. You have to chauffeur the children from one appointment to the next. You have to deal with culture and be able to talk about it. You have to go to the gym and see a beautician because the competition for the top spots is tough and you can only get there if you look good. You have to let the tensions be massaged away and go on a cure because life is so terribly demanding. You have to shine and be optimistic. You have to put your elbows in and not be squeamish. You have to have fun and have as much sex as possible.

And then you can’t sleep at night because you do all day and still feel like you are missing out on life. But how can you find it when you have long since lost the connection between all of the must? The forest air is very different from that of the air conditioning systems in the shopping and office temples, where you spend every day. You cannot sleep at night because you can clearly feel that something is wrong in life, but you cannot make out what it could be because you are doing everything right, the way it is told. You have so many, far too many things, but there is no happiness. You can boast of vacations and prestige objects, but the taste remains stale. Maybe happiness isn’t really dependent on consumption? It is a fleeting thought before you fall into a restless sleep that takes you home in the morning. When you got up you don’t think about it anymore, because that’s when you have to start again.

I wonder if people actually do not become aware of this discrepancy, it is really so difficult to come up with the most obvious thought, namely that one cannot buy happiness and cannot stage it, that life itself is worth living, especially where there is none other benefit or purpose than being yourself? But ultimately, I don’t care, because you are there and me. That’s why I take you by the hand and we walk through the forest, breathe the clear air, hear the birds chirp happily, feel the leaves on the way and maybe we also go rocking.

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