Leer (East Frisia, Germany)
I prefer to be where there are no people. Like in this little church. A brick building. The norm, not an exception. A heavy door made of dark wood, behind which silence lives. So unusual for a Catholic church. No ostentation. No pictures. Modern and wide and open.
I sit down on a chair in one of the front rows. My gaze goes to the large cross hanging in the middle of the wall at the front. A good place to meditate. Something I haven't done for a long time. So I close my eyes and focus my consciousness on my breath.
Three deep breaths are followed by ten evenly spaced ones. A whole life in each one. My mind breaks free and follows the images that arise in me. I grab it and gently pull it back to my breath. That is its place for this little exercise, which is so simple and yet can be so difficult. I find it easy.
I leave the church and step out of the silence into a sunny world. Just down the street and I'm in the old town, where people are bustling about in cafés, restaurants and small stores. No big crowds like in other places. A relaxed hustle and bustle. And yet I feel more comfortable here in this side street, completely without them, the people.
Further up, I come to a crossroads where there is a tree. Next to the tree is a plaque. The text on the plaque begins with the following words: "After the Second World War, more historic buildings were destroyed in Germany by a building frenzy than by bombs during the war. Dubious modernization (“car-friendly city”) and aggressive trends (unimaginative building with concrete) turned cities into “inhospitable places”.
Words that hit me, but also touch me deeply. It is the first time that I feel understood in this country. The first time that I have found in words what I know deep inside me. It is written here what I first felt a long time ago, that I then noticed more and more over time and have actually known since the beginning of our journey. There is no beauty here.
I found it a few years ago on a trip to Canada. I found it on our long stays in Brittany and the Pyrenees. I was always looking for it because I was longing for it so much. And now I find it here in this place where I never expected it, where I never thought it was possible.
Originally written in German. Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
I prefer to be where there are no people. Like in this little church. A brick building. The norm, not an exception. A heavy door made of dark wood, behind which silence lives. So unusual for a Catholic church. No ostentation. No pictures. Modern and wide and open.
I sit down on a chair in one of the front rows. My gaze goes to the large cross hanging in the middle of the wall at the front. A good place to meditate. Something I haven't done for a long time. So I close my eyes and focus my consciousness on my breath.
Three deep breaths are followed by ten evenly spaced ones. A whole life in each one. My mind breaks free and follows the images that arise in me. I grab it and gently pull it back to my breath. That is its place for this little exercise, which is so simple and yet can be so difficult. I find it easy.
I leave the church and step out of the silence into a sunny world. Just down the street and I'm in the old town, where people are bustling about in cafés, restaurants and small stores. No big crowds like in other places. A relaxed hustle and bustle. And yet I feel more comfortable here in this side street, completely without them, the people.
Further up, I come to a crossroads where there is a tree. Next to the tree is a plaque. The text on the plaque begins with the following words: "After the Second World War, more historic buildings were destroyed in Germany by a building frenzy than by bombs during the war. Dubious modernization (“car-friendly city”) and aggressive trends (unimaginative building with concrete) turned cities into “inhospitable places”.
Words that hit me, but also touch me deeply. It is the first time that I feel understood in this country. The first time that I have found in words what I know deep inside me. It is written here what I first felt a long time ago, that I then noticed more and more over time and have actually known since the beginning of our journey. There is no beauty here.
I found it a few years ago on a trip to Canada. I found it on our long stays in Brittany and the Pyrenees. I was always looking for it because I was longing for it so much. And now I find it here in this place where I never expected it, where I never thought it was possible.
Originally written in German. Translated with DeepL.com (free version)