Die Mädchen, die mir in der Bahn gegenübersitzen. Die ich nie wiedersehen werde.

My blessing for you both is “patience”.

She told me about the tradition of the seven blessings and asked me to say some words about patience during our last mountain bike ride on Sunday. And I really had to try and not fall off my bike laughingly. I am really not the person to think of as patient, and she knows me long enough to be aware of that. I agreed and then I could not say anything more because we were riding down a hill and I had to struggle not letting her ride too far ahead.

When she told me about the other blessings and about the people she had chosen for them, I became more and more proud of this task. And when we rode upwards to the next mountain I had some time to think of patience. When I am riding upwards together with her, I have to be patient.

So I stood there with my bike in the sun, in the woods, on top of the mountains. Seeing my entire, beloved home. Like it has been for almost thirty years to me. Like it has been there for thousands of years. Me, thinking of the blessing of patience.

And it came to my mind that patience is like being a mountain: to withstand all conditions. And that patience is like being a tree: to keep on growing, striving towards the sun and the water, growing a year’s ring, twigs and leaves.

But, as you are neither trees nor mountains, what does patience mean to the both of you? Patience as a bless does not mean waiting. Patience as a bless means that you prefer to climb a mountain together, not reaching the summit in first place.

And what do you do when you prefer to climb this mountain together? You give shelter when you fix each other with a rope. You help each other. You share all the things that you are carrying up the mountain. You take your breaks together and enjoy the experience that you share.
So climbing a mountain together takes into account the joy that you feel when you cooperate, when you give and when you listen to each other.

Maybe after all it’s not mountains you have to climb together. Maybe it’s the life that you share. May you both always climb it together and may you both be always blessed with patience.

Der Böhmische Traum, Heimweh und die gar nicht mal so schlechte Aussicht aus dem Bürofenster, abends um neun, während ich mich mit Kapazitäten und Energieinhalten auseinandersetze.

Zwei Stunden von zu hause.

Wie nicht anders zu erwarten bedrückt mich die Stadt. Es wächst, was mir fehlt. Bedrohlich werden die Sonntagabende, wenn die Zeit verrinnt. Schmerzen ab der Ortstafel. Idiot.