Ein Himmel aus Honig über der Stadt. Waldhonig tropft von den Baumkronen auf die Wiese. Aus Gold gesponnene Wolken schweben über Stadt und Wald. Die goldene Honigsonne sinkt langsam und verschwindet hinter den Bergen. Die Gräser haben immer noch ein leichtes Gegenlicht. Aber schwächer. Ruhiger, dunkler. Ein letztes Funkeln der Sonne. Gleich ist sie weg. Jetzt ist der Himmel nur noch gold und blau und lila-grau. Strukturen und Farbverläufe. Wie ein Gemälde – in echt. Der Hund von vorhin trappelt dort vorn. Er heult. Er bellt und heult. Wie ein Wolf. Heult er der Nacht entgegen? Sein Echo schallt hinter mir aus dem Wald hervor. Die Wolken in zart rosé-goldenen Flöckchen, gold schimmernden Kissenstickereien. Der Hund bellt immer noch. Vier Mücken tanzen über mir. Sie tanzen buchstäblich. In der Gruppe bewegen sie sich hin und her, hoch und runter, ineinander. Das Dach der Stadt wird dunkler, röter, blauer. Die Kirchenglocken schlagen und einige Krankenwagensirenen bewegen sich durch die Stadt. Das klingt nach einem schweren Notfall. Vorbei. Der Hund ist immer noch außer sich. Die vier Mücken tanzen immer noch über mir. Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf Menschen sind noch hier. Und ich. Ein Lieblingsplatz irgendwo zwischen Heimat und Ferne.

Waiting for the Here and Now

Waiting for the Here and Now

I noticed, a huge amount of time in our lives, we just spend waiting. Sure, we don’t just sit somewhere and do nothing, waiting for this one thing we long for to happen. That might even be better because we’d actually realize how often we’re only filling time or distracting ourselves.

Whether it’s the bus, a journey, a friend visiting, the sequel a movie, summer, school to be over, an uncomfortable situation to pass, our health, … We’re nearly always waiting for something. I’m asking myself – and you – isn’t that stupid? Because the great time that seems worth longing for, might not even occur. Or turn out to be totally different. 

Ads, Books, songs, wise people, … they all tell us to live in the moment, about enjoying the Here and Now. How it makes you happy. I don’t know about you, but I think it totally makes sense. We should enjoy the moment we’re living in RIGHT HERE and RIGHT NOW. Because every moment is unique (like this very moment you’re reading this, so thank you for your time) and you cannot get them back. 

But you know all this, right? And living in the moment can be pretty easy when we’re happy or having fun with someone we love. But the tough challenge is living in the moment when we’re actually wishing to fast forward to a certain day or time. We think, „Oh yeah, on Friday/ in October/ next year/ … I’m gonna totally live in the moment, because then [fill in the blank].“

And that’s what doesn’t make sense. Our excuses. How can you be living in the Here and Now when most of the time you’re just waiting to do so? 

The fact that living in the moment is good for ourselves isn’t my brillant new idea that no one’s ever had before. Nevertheless, I often forget that relishing – or just simply accepting – the present moment is not about waiting. Waiting is such a damn waste of time.

Ask yourself: How much time have I spent waiting in my life? And was it ever worthwhile to distract yourself while you were desperately awaiting an event? The answer is frightening.

So, what if we stop seeing our precious time as „waiting for something“ and instead treat it like something we don’t want to miss – no matter what amazing things we might experience tomorrow or next year?


How Leaving transforms Living

When people realize they’ll soon be dead, their priorities in life change. We’ve seen that in tons of movies. Suddenly, they want to do all the things they’ve been wishing to do their whole life. And they realize which people they really want to spend time with.

The latter is what’s happening to me right now. I’m not dying, thankfully, but dying is leaving and leaving’s what I’m doing. On October 11, 2018, I will head off to South East Asia – first destination: Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

And the less time I have in my home country, Germany, the clearer I get about who is really important to me. That’s my family and my closest friends, of course.

I don’t know what it’s like for you, who’s reading my words right now, but I usually meet with a lot of people. People it’s nice hanging out with, but people who you know won’t stay in your life for long. Or people who you don’t have

a deep connection with. Surely, there’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s something about setting priorities. It feels like tidying up your room, clear and refreshing. It’s interesting to actually notice who you really want to give your precious time to.

I’m happy not to be gone forever, but I appreciate experiencing this weird yet wonderful perk of leaving.


“Aren’t you scared?”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Aren’t you scared?”
That’s what most people ask me when I tell them about my after school-plans.
“I’d be scared”, they tell me.
In autumn, I’ll be traveling to South East asia on my own.
And the answer is, Yes, I am scared. But you know what? I’m even more scared of NOT doing it.
Starting to study at the university, planning my future job life, knowing what I’ll be doing till I’m 70. Turning 40, thinking, Why didn’t I do what i could have done?
THAT’S what I’m REALLY scared of.