Love of the World

It is not about good or bad, convenient or sorrowful, terrifying or relaxing. It is about being alive to secret languages, to the silence amidst the noise. It is about including all. My love of the world is roused by the smallest things, by minute experiences. Witnessing the crow across the street swoop from the neighbor’s live oak down to the asphalt close to the curb – she takes a bath in the rushing stream created by the atmospheric river. This morning, storming and raining, the world densely grey and mysterious, unseen activities escape the human eye. From my living room, I can sense the crow’s movements echoing in my own body. Dunking the head into the stream, wiggling, coming up and shaking, taking a whole-body plunge, beating wings rapidly, coming up, shaking off, doing this a few more times, then swooping up back into tree.  It does not get any better. Delicious. Secret bathing. I have done so in woods. Here nobody was watching or interrupting, no car getting out of the driveway, no bus or bike rushing down the street. My crow does not know that I am participating. Even though, as the patroller of our small stretch of the block, she knows me well, observing when I am out. I, too, feel refreshed. Grateful. My ribcage expands in delight. Who have been the secret observers and witnesses in my life? Besides the crows...

It is as simple as that: ich liebe die Welt, ich liebe das Dasein. In German this sounds much more enthusiastic and real, more like: Love of Being. Das Miteinandersein von Sternen, Monden, Sonnen, Steinen. The co-mingling of stars, moons, suns, stones. Von Bäumen, Bergen, Meeren, Flüssen, Fischen, Algen. Trees, montains, rivers, fish, algaes. Von Elefanten, Eulen, Löwen, Kindern, Krähen. Elephants, owls, lions, children, crows. Von Regenbögen, Hütten, Kartoffeln. Rainbows, shacks, potatoes. Das Miteinandersein von Lastwägen, Löffeln, Schneeflocken. Trucks, spoons, snowflakes. Von Äpfeln, Wölfen, Witwen. Apples, wolves, widows. Von Liebhabern, Brot, Milch, Zaubererinnen. Lovers, bread, milk, witches. Von Türen, Ketten, Kochtöpfen. Doors, chains, pots. Von Zitronen und Hochhäusern. Lemons and Skyscrapers. Von Feuerstürmen, Müttern, Vätern, Koffern, Honig, letzter Atem, erster Schrei. The co-mingling of firestorms, mothers, fathers, suitcases, honey, last breath, first cry. Die Ahnen. The ancestors.

 

Nie alleine.

Never alone.

Safe in this symphony.

Harmony and strife, death and life.

Wie wunderbar. Amazement, miracles, awe.

Ergriffen von großem Staunen. Dankbarkeit und Freude,

alles lacht, alle weinen, seufzen, singen, jubilieren.

All laughs, everyone weeps, sighs, sings, praises.

Can you find Crow? Through window, raindrops, balcony railing...

Regentropfen am Fenster, Wasser fließt, Krähe badet.

Water flows, crow bathes…

And to bring more proof for Love of the World.  When leaving some of my trees’ late harvest on my cello teacher’s outdoor shoe rack, I can't help but take a few moments for “fruit arranging.”  Next morning, he sends me this image as thank-you confirmation.

 

Thus are the languages and wonders of life....