Perhaps the finest starting point in living is to listen
with all your senses…. 
in Verbal speech the ability to let somebody finish a sentence without interrupting it half way with your thoughts.
If you notice ones to often that it repeats itself, in what is being said…. you might consider an other peer group.
There are words, lines, poems that I have been reading over and over again.Â
‘I’ was 18 , the right age , when I read
Rainer Maria Rilke’sÂ
Die Weise von Liebe und Tod des Cornets Christoph Rilke
(Erste Seite)
Reiten, reiten, reiten, durch den Tag, durch die Nacht, durch den Tag.
Reiten, reiten, reiten.
Und der Mut ist so müde geworden und die Sehnsucht so groß. Es gibt keine Berge mehr, kaum einen Baum. Nichts wagt aufzustehen. Fremde Hütten hocken durstig an versumpften Brunnen. Nirgends ein Turm. Und immer das gleiche Bild. Man hat zwei Augen zuviel. Nur in der Nacht manchmal glaubt man den Weg zu kennen. Vielleicht kehren wir nächtens immer wieder das Stück zurück, das wir in der fremden Sonne mühsam gewonnen haben? Es kann sein. Die Sonne ist schwer, wie bei uns tief im Sommer. Aber wir haben im Sommer Abschied genommen. Die Kleider der[235]Frauen leuchteten lang aus dem Grün. Und nun reiten wir lang. Es muß also Herbst sein. Wenigstens dort, wo traurige Frauen von uns wissen.
This first page has hanged in different houses where I lived on the wall for over 20 years.
in my mind remains for ever:
Da die Menschen unfähig waren, Tod, Elend, Unwissenheit zu überwinden, sind sie, um glücklich zu sein, übereingekommen, nicht daran zu denken” (Fragment 168) Blaise Pascal
The nearer death comes the more idiotic I find how insensitive lots and lots of people live their daily live.
Seemingly so unaware of the presciousness of the day and time. And holding up the excuses of nothingness.Â
the smart glance of the notion that we are here for a brief moment in time. Not as an insane member of a created world they call society where ‘Politicians’, ‘Big Company owners’ and other nobody’s try to make us believe that their world is the universe.
Of course, Thomas von Aquino and Montesquieu , – as examples – were called ‘thinkers’ in a specific context of reality. Creators of society in a way .
Society kills poetry and turnes your universe into a small world.
Use your senses, open yourself up, a few times a day as a starter, for all that is not directly there but firmly co creates your being
Share poetry, listen, look, feel and smell, taste life for it is fragile and gone before you know it
Feel the clouds, see the wind, hear the heartbeat, smell the see and taste joy
most of all see and feel inspiration
share
www.brainpickings.orgÂ
as an exampleÂ
Maria Popova
