Any day is a good day…


It is everyone’s least favorite topic: Dying. If it is not yours, feel free to stop reading right now. I do not take it personally.

As most of you know, I have experienced an NDE when I was fourteen years of age. It was an extremely profound event in my life and one cannot be the same as everybody else after that. One part remains within that experience. It is nothing to be scared of. It is an incredibly beautiful experience and I remain surprised that most people are so fearful of death. Maybe it is the fear of what we were not able to achieve in this lifetime, the grasping onto this physical form in this lifetime, the desperate wish that we could have left more of a mark on others. Who knows.
Death is as if one stands in front of the void that I saw once in a dream: It is peaceful, nothing left to do, nothing left to achieve, and nowhere left to go. One stands within this nothingness and feels tremendous peace that cannot be described. It is as if one is floating in an immense ocean and one is at the hands of fate, but safely guarded.

Over the course of this lifetime I then realized that even Kundalini has been active from a young age. It is my own life-force that is expressing herself through me. The near-death experience was in fact one of my rises of Kundalini as I am having similar things going on right now. Maybe it was too much for a small body back then, I am starting to wonder about this.

So, being at the brink of it again, second time in my life, I can feel that life-force is dwindling. I should be resting most of the time, but I got bills to pay. This world is not made for awakenings. It is made for money. Not all of it and I do not want to rain on anyone’s parade, but most of it is made for a fast living without thinking about it twice. I still have my episodes of becoming frustrated about it. I have questioned society as long as I can remember. Sometimes I am at ease with it, but most times I look at everyone rushing mindlessly about, running in this hamster wheel and would like to know whether they even question their lifestyles once. Does not everyone run across this moment, I wonder? But having endured a year of “normalcy”, I came to realize that most people do not stop and ask themselves.
They never ask: What is the purpose of all of this?
Maybe it is my cross to bear in this lifetime to have asked such questions from an extremely young age. Maybe I will never get an answer to this. Maybe I will.
But today I realized that I really need to live each day as if it was my last. Not in a state of perfection but one of beauty and rapture. To dwell in each moment as if it was my last, because after all: What if it was really my last one?
Then how would I have wanted to spend it? Certainly not in a job I dislike.
And that’s it. Make it count, not in an exaggerated manner, but to live as if there was no tomorrow.

Can one then move always further within and say: Today, I have gone into my heart and can leave everything as it is.

There are some Buddhists who only possess a few items and each night they make everything up as if they would not wake up the next day. They do not want to burden anyone.
Maybe I do not have to take it to that extreme, but to find an equilibrium in a life where sensitives have not so much space…

So today I figured is a good day to die, much like any. Even if it just in an energetic form of my ego.

I am wishing you all a beautiful end of the year 2022 in our solar calendar.

May your day be filled with peace.




“Ne pas choisir
C’est encore choisir.”

– Jean-Paul Sartre

(Not choosing still remains choosing)

Today I am turning 42 in this lifetime. It seems like an eternity to be alive. 42 in the medievals was old and now it is but a fragment of a lifetime. Sometimes my body feels as if it s already a hundred years old. In a sense it is and has endured so many lifetimes. It is a physical shell, yet, remains the vehicle for enlightenment.
I made a choice before I was born and how my life would unfold, I could not know. Because some things are left up to fate. So far I move in between loving it and at the same time asking myself: What is the point? Some days can be excruciating while others can be incredibly intense and beautiful. I am still trying to find that equilibrium that can be so easily destroyed. So instead of having a party or meeting with friends, I decided to treat myself to some pots for my plants and take myself on a date to the museum. As I have studied hospitality management, the university believed in a wide variety of subjects and we also took arts history and literature as subjects, which I truly loved. I had a thing for the expressionists and even though I did my paper on them, I hardly remembered that Essen was quite the city for expressionism. So today I was reminded of it by going to the Folkwang Museum. Of course it was packed. I moved through stages of intense fear throughout the exhibition. There was this silent angst stored up, residues in my nervous system from inherited World Wars. Especially World War II. I had to face my fears and move through this exhibition. It ranged from pain to elation, to feeling ill at times. But I took my time and what unfolded was actually very moving: Some paintings, I could tell, were infused with this divine energy, where the painter seemed to have moved out of the way, for them to be a channel for divine expression. Some were made out of life stories, most of them tragic, some were made out of ego, but rarely. Expressionism seems to be an art form where there was no room for large egos. It was a specific time period and painters lived in a sense that all they created could be destroyed at the blink of an eye. The destruction of paintings when not adhering to Nazi standards was the hardest bit to swallow.

It has never gotten easy. I still feel this national guilt.

It’s deep rooted and it has gotten better over the decades, but I still can never say with pride: I am of German origin in this lifetime. It is a hard task that I may have to muster in this lifetime. The thing that I realized about this is though that most countries had a play in all these happenstances. Most marched with the troops or had to follow. How much resistance was there? Not enough I would say, but it takes courage to do that, so I am not blaming anyone. I cannot put a guilt-trip on anyone either, because I would not know how it was like not to follow what was preached back then.
But it resurfaced obviously during this exhibition. It was tough to face this again, but when I finally went to another part of the exhibition, I felt relieved to have gone through it. It felt as if some of these parts of sadness had been taken away (I hope not to resurface again).

But today I felt at home for the second time in a few weeks. Somehow the expressionists have been like a string of synchronicities in my life. And here, on my birthday, they had turned up again.
Of course the first painting I saw reminded me of the kriyas people have when going through an awakening. It was so uncanny that it took me aback. Even though I had seen some of these works before, this I had never seen and it was incredibly beautiful. If there hadn’t been that many people, I just would have stayed there forever.
Another topic that stuck out was the study of the feminine body, which I am still somehow struggling with- it’s a love and sometimes dislike relationship. I am trying to make my peace with this bodily form in this lifetime. It is not so bad that I would consider gender change, but I do have my moments.

And of course the last topic was my effervescent crucifixion and resurrection. It never disappears. It is like it is calling me to surrender to my fate. Sometimes one is asked to just be and leave everything else alone. I always wonder: How could Christ have just walked up there. I’ve had many visions of him over the years, but I have to admit that there must have been no ego left for him and this is terribly hard to picture as we live in a society where ego is the dominating factor. He had only devotion to the divine and humanity, so soft, and so pliable. Unbelievably tender and open he must have been. Human but not human at all…

So today, I had to make a choice. It felt as if my inner being intended me to do so. It reignited my love for the expressionists and for doing what I really love doing. One just needs to stay courageous yet grounded into this reality (which is mighty difficult).




Today, no poetry of mine, but a piece by Hazrat Inayat Khan. I could not describe this any better…

“I have loved in life and I have
been loved.
I have drunk the bowl of
poison from the hands of love
as nectar,
And have been raised above
Life’s joy and sorrow.
My heart, aflame in love, set
afire every heart that came in
touch with it.
My heart has been rent and
joint again;
My heart has been broken and
Again made whole;
My heart has been wounded
And healed again;
A thousand deaths my heart
has died, and thanks be to
love, it lives yet.
I went through hell and saw
there love’s raging fire,
and I entered heaven
illumined with the light of love.
I wept in love and made all
weep with me;
I mourned in love and pierced
the hearts of men;
And when my fiery glance fell
On the rocks, the rocks burst forth as volcanoes.
The whole world sank in the
flood caused by my one tear;
With my deep sigh the earth
Trembled, and when I cried
Aloud the name of my Beloved,
I shook the throne of God in
I bowed my head low in
humility, and on my knees I
Begged of love,
“Disclose to me, I pray to Thee, O
Love, Thy secret.”
She took me gently by my
Arms and lifted me above the
Earth, and spoke softly in my
“My dear one, thou thyself art
Love, art lover,
and thyself art the Beloved
Whom thou hast adored.”

– Hazrat Inayat Khan

Sweetest Agony

Night falls
And in its darkness
My nostalgia disappears.
Calling out to no one
Has left me bereft
Of Your void.

Where are you,
My peaceful darkness
That lingers in my heart?
Golden city’s gloom
I plunged into
Your nothingness.

At the cross
I awake
to find devotion.
Streaming light,
Tears of surrender
Rolling down
My ashen face.

Fires burning in the distance,
Thorns edging into
I die for You,
For love is my sweetest