Heute hat meine Freundin Annette, die ich schon ewig kenne, einen Text auf Facebook geteilt und mir gestattet, ihn für mein Corona Tagebuch zu nutzen.
Sie sitzt zur Zeit in Nepal mit ihrer Familie in einem Kloster fest. Sie dürfen das Gelände nicht verlassen und sie weiß nicht, wann und ob sie von dort ausgeflogen werden. Sie macht jeden Tag Gehmeditation und winkt den Menschen auf anderen Dächern zu. Zum ersten Mal ist die Luft klar, weil keine Autos mehr fahren und kein Staub aufgewirbelt wird. In Nepal herrscht absolute Ausgangssperre.
Vieles von dem, was wir normalerweise tun, fällt gerade weg. Aber ich kenne niemanden, der so brutal zum Nichtstun verdammt ist wie Annette und ihre Familie. Nichtstun im eigenen Heim ist eine Sache, aber Nichtstun in der Fremde, ohne zu wissen, ob man nachhause kommt und wann, das ist nochmal eine andere Situation.
Ich mag besonders die Stelle, wo sie schreibt: nichts mehr zu erreichen, außer zu sein. Nichts mehr zu tun, außer zu sein.
Ich mag besonders die Stelle, wo sie schreibt: nichts mehr zu erreichen, außer zu sein. Nichts mehr zu tun, außer zu sein.
Lest selbst. Der Text ist auf Englisch, und ich hoffe, Ihr könnt ihn trotzdem verstehen.
Day 5 / complete lock-down in Boudhanath ,Nepal...
As I am doing my daily walking meditation along the grassy tree and flower planted courtyard, the two story stairway, the rooftop expanse; I circle them all.
Only yesterday did I discover the silent beauty of the archway stretching over the “Middle Way” which I had passed under many times before.
Flanked by unnamed trees , lovely scented , flower covered vines swirling themselves over me.
So now I especially enjoy this part of my walk;breathing in its sweetness as I move ...
Even the gatekeeper has finally realized that I am not on a forbidden way out or onto the to me closed off part of the monastery’s sanctuary but on my way walking and walking within.
To the second story past all the now empty rooms left by fellow guests evacuated by their embassies.
Finally a quiet has settled in. Not just an outside quiet but an inner peace.
Nothing to do but to be. Nothing to accomplish but to be.
When I am hungry I eat. When I am tired I sleep.
And I walk.
Up to the rooftop I make my circles.
I greet the skies of Kathmandu; bluer than I have ever seen them ( now that the dust has settled/ no cars, no trucks, no motorcycles to swirl up the dust from the endless dirt roads left by the earthquake).
I greet the hills with their monasteries and the distant snow-covered Himalayas which I have never seen from Kathmandu before.
The birds sing with seemingly newfound happiness .
An old Tibetan man with his Mala of sacred Bodhi beads waves at me from a neighboring rooftop.
He also is doing his circumambulations.
I in turn wave at the young monks on the roof of the adjoining monastery.
The hum of chanted mantras alternating with the beat of the sacred drums is reassuring as it sends its waves of compassion for all sentient beings into the universe.
The setting sun makes the gilded and hand-embossed ornamentations of the monastery pagoda glow in a deep golden orange warmth.
Sacred neighborhood of the Great Stupa. Prayer-flags fluttering all around and above me.
It’s the beginning of the ancient pilgrimage route to Lhasa/ Tibet.
I have finally surrendered; no flights to book, no business to seek out.
All that is left is to be at peace until they decide to “rescue me” ......✨🙏🏻❤️
Only yesterday did I discover the silent beauty of the archway stretching over the “Middle Way” which I had passed under many times before.
Flanked by unnamed trees , lovely scented , flower covered vines swirling themselves over me.
So now I especially enjoy this part of my walk;breathing in its sweetness as I move ...
Even the gatekeeper has finally realized that I am not on a forbidden way out or onto the to me closed off part of the monastery’s sanctuary but on my way walking and walking within.
To the second story past all the now empty rooms left by fellow guests evacuated by their embassies.
Finally a quiet has settled in. Not just an outside quiet but an inner peace.
Nothing to do but to be. Nothing to accomplish but to be.
When I am hungry I eat. When I am tired I sleep.
And I walk.
Up to the rooftop I make my circles.
I greet the skies of Kathmandu; bluer than I have ever seen them ( now that the dust has settled/ no cars, no trucks, no motorcycles to swirl up the dust from the endless dirt roads left by the earthquake).
I greet the hills with their monasteries and the distant snow-covered Himalayas which I have never seen from Kathmandu before.
The birds sing with seemingly newfound happiness .
An old Tibetan man with his Mala of sacred Bodhi beads waves at me from a neighboring rooftop.
He also is doing his circumambulations.
I in turn wave at the young monks on the roof of the adjoining monastery.
The hum of chanted mantras alternating with the beat of the sacred drums is reassuring as it sends its waves of compassion for all sentient beings into the universe.
The setting sun makes the gilded and hand-embossed ornamentations of the monastery pagoda glow in a deep golden orange warmth.
Sacred neighborhood of the Great Stupa. Prayer-flags fluttering all around and above me.
It’s the beginning of the ancient pilgrimage route to Lhasa/ Tibet.
I have finally surrendered; no flights to book, no business to seek out.
All that is left is to be at peace until they decide to “rescue me” ......✨🙏🏻❤️
Danke Annette.
Ansonsten sind, angesichts der Nachrichten, meine Gedanken heute ganz besonders in Sizilien, wo ich erst vor wenigen Wochen war. Damals schien all das absolut unvorstellbar und doch lag es auch damals längst in der Luft.
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| Bar Italia, Taormini Naxos Giardini, Sicilia #tuttoandràbene |
(c) Susanne Becker
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