Wiesmoor (Germany)
We are in one place and yet we have to be in the next. Always a step or two ahead. This makes it difficult to engage with the place we are in. And then there's the time and energy I have to organize in a day. Sometimes not an easy act of balance.
I often wonder why this place is so different from the rest of the country. And why does it still seem not out of time, but like a cozy oasis in all the ugliness and monotony we finally escaped? Yes, it is mostly beautiful here.
The environment shapes us. Whether it's people, our own family or friends, or people at work. Also the buildings we are in and often enough have to be in. Here I can breathe. Here I have the space I so often miss, but so desperately need. I like this place.
It has its weaknesses, especially the noise from the street, which is very busy in the morning. But I'm glad that it's not as busy as many other places. And then there are these beautiful paths through a wooded area that we can reach on foot in just a few minutes. It also holds surprises, like a deer that comes out of nowhere and runs across the path in front of us.
People are friendly and greet you on the street. Pedestrians share the sidewalks with cyclists, who always ring the bell when they come up behind you. And they often say Moin when they pass you. The few pedestrians don't behave any differently. A very pleasant atmosphere.
I always have the same dream in which a small colorful bird appears in front of me. As soon as I stretch out my arm, it sits on it and lies down. I close my hand slightly and pull it towards my body. I felt a deep need to protect it.
He seems very fragile and I'm afraid of hurting him. His legs are as thin as a hair, his wings as fine and delicate as those of a butterfly. One morning I wake up very early from this dream and feel like a failure, like I can't get anything in my life together.
In one dream sequence the bird is trapped in a tiny box and I feel a deep need to free it. In another sequence we are in a narrow corridor full of things lying around. Somewhere in there is the little bird, and I'm desperately looking for it. I feel a strong sense of injustice and pity for him, and I'm very worried that something might happen to him.
There is something inside me that needs to be discovered and protected. Something fragile and precious. Is it freedom? Is it creativity? Is it wishes and desires that want to come out and take flight but can't? How much more free can I be than I am now? I am left with questions.
We are in one place and yet we have to be in the next. Always a step or two ahead. This makes it difficult to engage with the place we are in. And then there's the time and energy I have to organize in a day. Sometimes not an easy act of balance.
I often wonder why this place is so different from the rest of the country. And why does it still seem not out of time, but like a cozy oasis in all the ugliness and monotony we finally escaped? Yes, it is mostly beautiful here.
The environment shapes us. Whether it's people, our own family or friends, or people at work. Also the buildings we are in and often enough have to be in. Here I can breathe. Here I have the space I so often miss, but so desperately need. I like this place.
It has its weaknesses, especially the noise from the street, which is very busy in the morning. But I'm glad that it's not as busy as many other places. And then there are these beautiful paths through a wooded area that we can reach on foot in just a few minutes. It also holds surprises, like a deer that comes out of nowhere and runs across the path in front of us.
People are friendly and greet you on the street. Pedestrians share the sidewalks with cyclists, who always ring the bell when they come up behind you. And they often say Moin when they pass you. The few pedestrians don't behave any differently. A very pleasant atmosphere.
I always have the same dream in which a small colorful bird appears in front of me. As soon as I stretch out my arm, it sits on it and lies down. I close my hand slightly and pull it towards my body. I felt a deep need to protect it.
He seems very fragile and I'm afraid of hurting him. His legs are as thin as a hair, his wings as fine and delicate as those of a butterfly. One morning I wake up very early from this dream and feel like a failure, like I can't get anything in my life together.
In one dream sequence the bird is trapped in a tiny box and I feel a deep need to free it. In another sequence we are in a narrow corridor full of things lying around. Somewhere in there is the little bird, and I'm desperately looking for it. I feel a strong sense of injustice and pity for him, and I'm very worried that something might happen to him.
There is something inside me that needs to be discovered and protected. Something fragile and precious. Is it freedom? Is it creativity? Is it wishes and desires that want to come out and take flight but can't? How much more free can I be than I am now? I am left with questions.