This place is a dream


“This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.”

– Rumi

Death came knocking at my door.
Not prepared, I was pleading for more
She said: “Do not fear me, for I am a part of Him.”
I answered: “Is this not a trick to take me on a whim?”
She felt furious and took my ego in disguise,
I laughed and cried,
I kid you not.

She took her scythe and chopped off my foot.
I screamed at her in agony,
Why was she doing this to me?

She said you must suffer to be reborn
Unless you try darkness
You may never see light.
I nodded my head and this made me sway.

Then I remembered the trick
A teacher taught me:
I prayed to God with all my might
And all at once
The angels came to my aid,
they took away my fears
And helped me to surrender
In tears.
I wailed and sang hail to Grace,
I wondered why I had forgotten
Their mighty embrace.

Death departed with her scythe,
My foot restored,
I said: “You were the devil in disguise.”
Don’t taunt me with your impertinent
For I know who you are now
and I surrender only to God
And follow my own ways.

Relieved I sat surrounded by the angels’ wings
Their embrace so soft
Yet put me up to their strings
That lead to heaven.


Don’t leave me, even for an hour…


“Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because 
then the little drops of anguish will all run together, 
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift 
into me, choking my lost heart.”

– Pablo Neruda

Yesterday I experienced emotional pain. Another date, another strange experience. How come, I asked myself and looked into my heart. It said it was not the right one. People are scared of love.

A little while later at work a co-worker explained her view on love: She said that sometimes one does not need love to get married. Looking at her quizzically she expanded further. I shall spare you the details. This is no form of judgement, just an observation. She was thoroughly convinced of this idea.
When she left it took me a while to recover from this idea of hers. I contemplated it nonetheless, giving a fair chance to it. Why not? If I only ever see my point of view, how can I be certain that another’s point may not hold some form of validity.
But after a while I realized that I disagree for I thoroughly believe in love. In an eternal love.
Love that is so strong that nothing can break it. A love that is like fire, igniting all those around me. A love so intense that people must become blinded by the very fact that one is alive and burning with this love. A love that is so shining and brilliant, yet soft and beautiful that all must perish in its vicinity. No darkness can be left in its radar.

In the night I was sent yet another dream of a man I do not know and that love between us was so intense that no one could come in between. That is what I know to be true in my heart. It is an intense love, one that is passionate yet liberating, one that is quiet and peaceful, one that allows mistakes and the forgiveness of them. It allows for peace to enter one’s heart and to let this tremendous love unfold.

So no, I do not believe that one does not need love to get married. One needs tremendous amounts of love to get into any relationship of any sort.
How could you stay with someone who does not love you as you are?
It would be impossible.

So please love as if there was no tomorrow.
Do not listen to others who have lost their way.
Love as if the world was full with it, because that is the nature of God.
And love is the one thing that is always accessible wherever you are at and whatever situation you may encounter.
It is the only cure there is.

Be love. Do not get discouraged by others.
Stay there.



“I saw my Lord with the eye of the heart
I asked: ‘Who are You?’
He replied, ‘You’.”

  • Mansur al-Hallaj

In darkness we must walk for
A while
Diminished by our own pride.

For what else would there be
Left to do
But to adore You
Who is always near.

We forgot for
We became ignorant,
But all that is left
Is You and You.

If I cannot love You
I do not love myself.
If I cannot believe in You
I do not believe in myself.

What would the world be
Without You?
An unpopulated stream
Of masses that are unconscious.

The once golden city

“Your silver has become dross, your wine mixed with water.”

– Isaiah, 1.22

As I stood above the once golden city I watched as it had burned to ashes. Few buildings had been left standing. My face grew dark in compassion. The angel stood beside me to show me reign of terror, caused by anger and greed. I looked at her with tears streaming down
My face. I asked her: “How come this city has been burnt to ashes? Certainly no one deserves this.” She answered: “Dear ancient one. How come people must suffer every day? They have created their own cycle of suffering amongst them. Do you truly believe that we would inflict harm on anyone?”

I nodded in understanding, yet September sadness streamed from my heart.
“Who were they that they inflicted such pain upon themselves?”, I wondered aloud.
She answered silently: “They were the ones who did not believe in miracles and lost hope.”

I instantly understood that oll one needs to do is hold on to love. Immortal love that brings us ever closer. Who would we be without this love?
As I turned and moved back to the entrance that I came from a great wind surged over the surface of the fallen city. When I reached the half closed doors of freedom,
I looked back once more to take another glimpse of the devastation,
But nothing was left but a great plain.

And so it starts all anew…



In these very strange days all feels like dying.
We have not yet shed the old
And not welcomed in the new.
We are lost in the old ways
That no longer work
And discovering the new.

Who we once were
We do not remember
And as of now
We do not understand where
The future may take us.

We are lost in the abyss
That once we were glad
To visit
Without hesitation.

Who were we once
If not warriors of peace?
Have we not come into being
In order to heal?

Once a woman
We stand now as
Wide and tall we grew into the depth
Of the Ocean.



” Have patience. All things are difficult before they become easy.”

– Saadî

Each time we start something new it seems insurmountable. The wealth of information, the depth, the richness of a new experience seems often too large to undertake. As humans we stand like the Prophet Mohammad (PBBUH) in front of the proverbial mountain. The mountain seems so enormous that we fear the newness of it. We have never seen such a mountain, let alone climbed one. We are short of techniques and unlike others, have never been to Nanga Parbat. We have never been in such high altitudes and our systems are not adapted to the lack of oxygen. Like fish on dry land.
We contemplate the situation and our mind will tell us a million reasons why this exact mountain may not be such a good idea or any other mountain. Because we are not fit enough, not prepared enough, we are not ready enough, too old, too tired,… There is always a reason why we should not explore the mountain.

I felt like this in art class on monday. As I have just moved back to Germany after twenty years of self-imposed travels, I still feel at odds with the culture. But I vowed that I would do my best to find my footing in this bizarre city that I have moved to. So instead of just standing in front of the mountain, I took a few steps towards it. I signed up for an intuitive arts class. I had no idea what was to be expected and on that day my mind nearly talked me into not going. It had a million reasons. Of course it did! It always does.
But in the end I went and was very positively surprised about the experience. One works with a different array of materials and puts them onto canvas. The material is gypsum. It needs to be of the right consistency and once one is content one moves it onto the canvas. It can be extremely thick or a little thinner, with holes or other parts in it. As one feels how it could be right. This is up to one’s own feeling and personal expression on that day. There’s another layer added consisting of lime putty and marble- it is quite thin and acts as a coating.
This is just a technical explanation. But the most important part was what was going on in my mind while creating the first canvas. It nearly attacked me. I was actually shocked and nearly started to cry. I have not had this in a while. I am aware that it was part of a subtle psychic attack and some of my ancient insecurities coming up. I felt I needed to make my stance and said: I am not listening to this. This is not mine and I am more than capable of putting some gypsum onto a canvas for F&#$s sake!
It immediately stopped. But it nearly drained the bejesus out of me. I often wonder if other people are having this or if it is part of my journey. I know that most psychics encounter this on and off as we pick up on the subtle chatter in the atmosphere. It felt debilitating to be honest, but after I finished the first canvas, I sat down, had a tea and had a chat to the teacher. I realized that I had picked up on the psychic things of my neighbor. As after she finished her one and only canvas, she was heaving and was having a hard time whereas I was back to my normal chatty self. I also realized I had not eaten before going to class and that I am more suspect to the subtle realms when I have not eaten properly. I always have been.
But I do realize that even though it was not mine, it had a resonant frequency. There exists some rest of not being brave enough to climb the mountain after all. It is a strange fear of the small things I have always had . I was never scared of large things. I just did them, because to most it seemed so impossible whereas I always said that if something was impossible why then not go and try. It is the small stuff that I am sweating most times.

But it is safe to say that the second canvas was done in partial rage at this psychic attack and partial Shakti moving through me in powerful waves. I had said “enough” and taken my power back. But interestingly rage came up and not peace.
Maybe I feel enraged that I did not go to the mountain earlier. Maybe I have become so insecure as my psyche did not want to try new things. How strange. Is this what happens with age?
And so I decided that I needed to be patient when it comes to some parts of my mountain and explore other mountains as well.

Have you explored Nanga Parbat yet?