C H R I S T M A S T I M E
I hope you all have a pleasurable Christmas feast today!
No stress, no fights, no bad feelings...
A wonderful time with your families at home and with loooooooooooots of presents!
When I Paulo Coelho's debut "The Alchemist" was reading, turned to me again and again, especially the one question, saying: "Am I still on track" To answer it, I had me some interrelated and mutually dependent preliminary questions set, namely: What is the right way? Whether something is right or wrong, is a question of logic and therefore offers no difficulties. One way is the connection between a beginning and an end point, no matter what modality (possibility, actuality, necessity) it has. The death destroyed even our most actualized Goal, I mean, given the vast eternity of death dissolves our timed to limited life in obscurity. We always fight a losing battle and our achievements are ultimately only Pyrrhic victories. Maybe that's why some clever Meier on the way out of thought have fallen to explain life to the path and the path to the goal. In general, the death has always been a field day of the founders of religions. The medical prolongation of life of our secular age, attempts to take the other hand, looks ridiculous when they may be more successful than in all previous People ages. If a path is the connection between a beginning and an end point, then these two points are to take a closer look, if it is not easy as some other clever Meier have done that, wants to explain to perpetual middle. Heading to these supposed points my text, "Live your dream!" Has emerged.
comment of kristall_klar:
I have moved me!
Recently a friend told me this story:
"In my childhood was a figure Snuffalapagous in a children's television program. Snuffalapagous had a friend, Big Bird, whom he often met by chance on the street. Big Bird wanted to introduce Snuffalapagous like his other friends, but every time he tried, something came (delays, illness, etc.) between them and the plans failed. It happened so many times that the other friends did not believe Big Bird and thought that probably was only a fantasy Snuffalapagous friend. Snuffalapagous not really existed for them as long as they could not meet him "
and adds them:
." At the moment I do not exist in the circles in which you verkehrst. No one knows me and maybe you have nothing to anyone about me. (I say this without bias (dispassionately). It may be so and this is quite ok) If you like my letters to the LiveJournal pretend to be, then I will suddenly have a public Orbit in your universe. I do not know if I am ready and would rather not Snuffalapagous. I like my relative anonymity. I am always afraid to expose my thoughts. I know that I can be to endure for some other difficulty. . I'll think it superior to "
This weekend I have retired completely and not leave the house - just like one of my friends, The confessed to me that they are, if you threaten to grow the work of the head at the weekend favorite with a good book in bed "crawl". Here me the story of the old Indian is sunken, the hitchhiked across America and after a while asked his driver to stop and let him just rest. This is perhaps the most past history in my mind, it was a school reading and I must have read with less than 10 years. I am very sad that I no longer have the reader, although I am convinced that disappoint me reading the story today would - you know this after a while the man was driving, of course, go on again, but his passenger, the Indian who had now got out and sat down next to the car at the roadside on a stone made, no signs of wanting to continue the journey. The driver then got out, walked up to the old Indian, and asked him, he half asked him if he did not want to enter again and continue. Then answers: "Sure, but I have to wait until my body until my soul has once again caught up."
comment a girlfriend with a poem from Bertolt Brecht's "Buckower Elegies:
I sit by the roadside
The driver changes the wheel
I do not like where I come from.
I'm not happy where I go.
Why do I see the wheel change
With impatience?
Tue, 12/14/2010
love (r) shuei,
your answer with your "Sunday stroll" ( http://shuei.livejournal.com/ # post-shuei 5911 ) on my "Live your dream!" ( http://bunte-steinchen.livejournal.com/2010/11/25/ ) I am very much and encourages me in mind - as you'll see.
In response, one could perhaps describe your actions in a handbook of correspondence because you made me via e-mail alert on your text in LiveJournal. To hadelt an answer in the logical sense, it is definitely not, I have found, however, not in this sense a question.
artists and uneducated behave in this way - artists, they take the fundamental difference between our thoughts and the fundamental inability or remoteness intellectual conformity or identity between human individuals know and uneducated because they are more complex cultural forms never been in contact and thus the handling of certain cultural tools at all or were able to learn only partially. Since you
the Russian original ( http://shuei.livejournal.com/ # post-5801-shuei ) have published before I published my text, you can not say that your my inspiration have. The reverse can not say it because your German translation until 2 weeks after I was released. My text you have just motivated me to draw attention to your letter - were they are both completely independent of each other.
correspond to what extent our two texts together, which is an association or a correlation between them, I must always ultimately up to you and their respective readers. As far as the question for myself, I recognize the content and thematic links between our two texts as clearly, where it is important that the risk of his own life to stop and back-reflection on life as our higher Next good leads. - At least, I think my interpretation of your text, so it is focused in my little, directed the gaze of the reader to something and concentrated to find there only briefly and casually mention, that my death experience. I read your text, thanks to my new and different, so there is a shift in emphasis and reading experiences new sensations and impulses.
seem to disperse our experience in terms of the result: While my accident with me at that time led to a shift from a way of life and a gradual and long-term care to another, you treat with your back pain, up to about two months ago for about three weeks handcuffed to the bed, relapse. During that time my experience is a long one, with a unique and vital breath and was replaced by something heroic, is your a recurring daily, which everyone knows only too well, giving us only the discomfort of our ultimate always puny, indeed impotent fidgeting, winds and rolling is to feel once again clear. - Imre Kertész in his development, "Fateless" (1975) imparts the literature to some extent a theory of practice on how people deprived of their ability to make decisions are (both self-inflicted and other-directed). In my opinion, by far the best book of a so-called Holocaust survivors, because Kertész manages to bring its report to the literature up there, where not only fueled hatred and pity, but to get there, where thought again mö is possible. Also Paulo Coelho's linguistic and literary and philosophical-religious bona fide fades, so silly fairy tale "The Alchemist", has added to my text the event can, in the face of "Fateless" pack .
the essential difference between your and my experience I know that the threat of death (as I interpret my text to a new major consideration, under a new light after I read your) back then made a deep impression on me must I could not possibly continue to live as until then, while you all your recently made serious back problems apparently - as it looks now - in the end not in the least, no more than a cold or the flu , has appalled, impressed, leaves its mark in more than thought the lead up to the time just now and then a bit to think about. My concern and their lack in your case, the main difference between your and my experience and therefore can compare the two in fact not. - The best book on the subject for me is still that of William James. In "The Varieties of Religious Experience", he distinguishes the "born again" by the "twice born". Accordingly, you belong to the first and I to the second group of people - at least in the experiences discussed above.
employs Apart from agreement and difference tell me what you say about those who do not give up their health night, she did connect with feet and still not get sick in connection with your sudden conceptual leap in speculation about a divine punishment. You are holding it at the beginning still possible that your back pain represent a kind of penalty for crimes committed in any divine okay, so you recant this assumption at the end of this a case expressly - But not only this, if one follows the tenor of your text. The same movement of thought and feeling put over your friend who - like you suggerierst - something fiercely, even fanatical marathon running on the day. Both in one and in another case you refuse - it seems to me - to want to accept a higher meaning in life, there were dealing with a religious-moral or even a moral as Marathon running your girlfriend. You seem to assume that health is something purely practical (as it would be achieved just by adding some sports, eat a right, to sleep enough not to work too much and to give up booze and cigarettes) and is of far greater reality than the belief in God and his just order and the individual desire to flow, perhaps the most common form of culture zeitegnössischen the former ecstasy. - I think this is simply a mistake. Health is also an ideal of how God and all his past, present, and future derivatives. Since God is dead, the health of our people is perhaps even become really important. The health of their own sake, but I personally consider to be meaningless, Only when we create from our health (and illness) out beyond them something, gives our lives meaning. This is not my idea, which is a basic idea of Nietzsche. And as for the diseases that cost us our lives, so we are the most wenisten known, especially the physicians and health ministers. And I always say that I fear to die used to be on something I do not expect, and not vice versa - and I have examples.
I salute you!
This is the imperative to the point that in Paulo Coelho's book "The Alchemist" (1988), I've read recently is in the center.
I had my dream - if you will - just before I was 19: I pulled myself - if my memory deceive me not - in late November / early December 1983, during football matches in the gym class at the vocational secondary school in Zurich a torn ligament in right ankle, was a few days later at the Cantonal Hospital Winterthur operated on and underwent surgery shortly thereafter in the same place as a result of infection in the wound. This extended is my usual 5 days of hospitalization in the long 3 weeks, so I was only released at Christmas of the drugs outside veruntstaltet, emaciated and weakened physical home.
Even when doctors determined her knowledge and her routine in the infection is by far not felt to be as serious as I and my father - I felt at that time close to death, since as near as never even close. What the doctors was only an infection, that was for me without doubt and without Exaggerating my personal experience of death - my first and only. Also in the following months and years, this thought came back more often than any other, when I thought back to those days.
This event rocked my life to its foundations. It was such a deep and extensive experience, as I have not seen the second in my entire life so far. After that I could not possibly go on as before. It was everything I experienced before, felt and thought was in the shade. With it, my self-conscious life and put my changes as the seasons repeated search for the meaning one. - William James says in his book "The diversity of religious experience" (1901 / 2) of the "twice born" in contrast to the only "born again".
I finished my apprenticeship as an electronics engineer but still down, my enthusiasm for everything connected with it, but was virtually extinguished, and the associated very promising future for me were not only become meaningless it seemed to me then my just awakened sometimes even help shape development already threatening be. This deal was a social concession, from which you will encounter on my life over again which, concessions and got to where I am, however, always a conscious decision to be received and to date I have never regretted. Well they were not included in my formless dream, well they were foreign to him, he seemed not to resist or even hostile to him to be. I even wrote on the first and then still only a pilot plant for computer science in Brugg / Windisch, but knew well that this could only be a reminiscence or a relic of my passion as an apprentice and that I basically already ld NGST wanted somewhere else entirely. In this inscription, it was not a concession, but more like something like a self-runner or a routine in a way long ago. As each image is lagging so on the following, but if you step on the brakes, it takes depending on the speed at which you drive, for a while, until the car stops. Man is always in an inescapable network of relationships and untentwirrbaren, which only come to recognize and resolve or change and to which I add only new is needed before one can rightly claim that they themselves - and the means above all always its environment - has actually changed - and that can take a very long time and is certainly accompanied by countless setbacks. In that sense, I think Coelho's much-touted "beginners luck" for a self-deception, not to say - for a trap.
I had by far not so clear and distinct dream like Coelho's 18 year-old Portagonist Santiago (He appears a child leads him to Egypt to the pyramids, where it says to him.: "If you come here, then you will find a hidden treasure." As it wants to show him the exact spot, he awakened. This is his dream, he dreams twice) -. At least I can not think of a pass - but at least I have something like a vague, very vague idea have had. From that time is perhaps my belief that I know more concretely what I will not, but what I want. And this belief may of course be used as a simple exploratory tool in the most rudimentary search for what I want. I had no gypsy and no king Melchizedek at, which would have interpreted my dreams with such authority that they had for me as for Santiago to peremptory instructions can be. I can not even look at something like a kindred spirit in my near and distant not remember in my surroundings and my father, my plan was inside and also facing outward only negative. I was not a Delphic oracle is available that would have geweissgesagt my fate twice so unmistakably like Oedipus, a prophecy which was of the same clarity as Santiago's dream. It seemed likely before as if I were inspired by the Apollo Pythia babbling across the street and you would for ordinary ears like the murmur of my unintelligible without the mediation of its outline, interpret poetically gifted clergy to get heard. Even the 37-year Jean-Jacques Rousseau seems to be a visionary enlightenment to be clear and kicked clear in mind, on the way to Denis Diderot in prison in Vincennes in 1749 all his future work and how his bdquo ; Confessions and can see more detail his letters to Malesherbes; different it was with me, the never show the slightest of his dream has come "to face". For me it was probably more like the 22 year old Heinrich von Kleist in search of his personal fortune, as he in his letter dated 18th March 1799 to Christian Fritz Martini developed. Whether I was in this early phase as Santiago "beginners luck" had, I really can not remember the best of intentions, after all, it took 9 years before I finally did what the content of my so-called dream I never properly Meaning "seen" or "experienced", have been must be, at least I felt it was his performance, as I in November 1992 in Munich began my study of philosophy.
Shueis "answer" in German: http://shuei.livejournal.com/ # post-5911-shuei and in Russian: http://shuei.livejournal.com/ # post- shuei -5801.
And my "response" to the "response": http://bunte-steinchen.livejournal.com/2010/12/11/ .