Ein Jahr

Was ist eigentlich ein Jahr? Ein Jahr besteht aus 365 oder 366 Tagen etc. Wir alle kennen die Zahlen, aber können wir sie auch füllen, sie „beseelen“? Wer kann schon genau sagen, was er an jedem einzelnen Tag eines Jahres getan hat? Das ist an sich nicht weiter schlimm, aber ist es nicht so, dass wir im Grunde viel zu schnell durch dieses Jahr, durch diese 365 Tage gehen? Ereignis folgt auf Ereignis, doch manchmal können wir diese gar nicht richtig greifen, fassen, verarbeiten. Also warten wir unentwegt auf das nächstfolgende Ereignis, immer weiter fort, bis eines Tages ein Jahr vorüber ist. Doch ist es das, was wir wollen? Können wir überhaupt etwas anderes tun? Zwingen uns nicht die Arbeitswelt, die sozialen Verpflichtungen, allgemein unser Dasein als gesellschaftliches Wesen dazu, so zu handeln? Eine Entschleunigung des Ganzen scheint nicht möglich.

Nun mag es dennoch Menschen geben, die genau dem widersprechen. Diese Menschen scheinen eins mit sich selbst zu sein, mit ihrer Umgebung. Doch sind sie es wirklich? Was fühlen sie in ihrem Inneren? Und da sind wir wieder bei diesem Jahr… 365 Tage, doch wesentlich mehr Emotionen. Wie oft haben wir in einem Jahr Freude, Wut, Erregung, Hass, Glück oder Trauer gespürt? Wie oft sind diese miteinander verschmolzen? Kann man deren Anzahl überhaupt fest machen?

So viele Fragen, doch keine richtigen Antworten. Die Wissenschaft kann uns ganz genau sagen, was ein Jahr ist, doch können wir das begreifen? Was ist für uns ein Jahr? Eine Ansammlung von Ereignissen und mannigfaltigen Emotionen? Innerhalb eines Jahres kann so viel passieren. Das ganze Leben kann sich verändern, man kann aber auch Tag auf Tag in seinem „Hamsterrad“ weiterleben. Es kann passieren, dass es positive als auch negative Einschnitte gibt, an die man sich auch Jahre später noch erinnert. Andererseits gibt es auch Jahre, welche so nebensächlich und fast schon langweilig verlaufen, dass nichts Erinnerungswürdiges passiert.

Sind wir Kinder, ist für uns ein Jahr eine gefühlte Ewigkeit, die wir nicht begreifen können. Wir wissen, dass man das Alter in Jahren zählt, deswegen ist jemand mit fünf Jahren für einen Vierjährigen auch fast das Sinnbild von Weisheit. Je älter wir werden, umso mehr schwindet die Symbolhaftigkeit eines Jahres. Man fängt an, in Jahrzehnten oder mehr zu denken. „Ein Jahr“ ist lediglich noch dafür da, kurzfristig gesteckte Ziele zu erreichen.

Mehr Wert erhält „ein Jahr“ stets im Rückblick, wenn wir uns an die oben genannten einschneidenden Ereignisse erinnern. Hin und wieder hat man gefühlt ein gutes Jahr gehabt und möchte es Revue passieren lassen; ebenso passiert es bei einem gefühlt schlechten Jahr. Vermutlich unterscheiden sich diese beiden in der Realität aber kaum voneinander…

Wann aber hat „ein Jahr“ noch einen großen Stellenwert? Ganz besonders dann, wenn wir jemanden verloren haben. Was hätte diese Person in einem Jahr, im letzten Jahr nicht alles erleben können? So viele Ereignisse, ob gut oder schlecht, hätten die Anwesenheit dieser geliebten Person gefordert. Ein Jahr lang besteht eine manchmal sichtbare, manchmal unsichtbare Lücke, welche auf Dauer nicht gefüllt werden kann. Romantisieren wir das Ganze? Vielleicht liegt es in der Natur des Menschen, in seiner Art zu trauern. Dennoch scheint eines festzustehen: Wenn wir jemanden Geliebtes verloren haben, ist nichts so emotional wie das erste Jahr danach. Ein Jahr voller widersprüchlicher Gefühle, die sich weder zählen noch ordnen lassen.

Instead of an end of year resumé…

Well, when I re-organised my site, I noticed that I haven’t been all that active in the last months, or let’s say, in the past year. I think I owe you an explanation for this…

Here’s the thing: My dad died (see “Cherry Blossom” in the Creative Writing section). While some of you might think now that this is how life works, I can surely agree with you up to a certain extent, but I’d like to inform you that he committed suicide (see my last post here on his failed suicide attempt). It happened back in March, but it still feels like just yesterday. For your sakes, I won’t go into details here, but be assured that he did it very professionally, no hanging, no cut wrists and those things. Plus, he hid very well, so my family didn’t have to find him.

My dad has been, or rather was, my best friend, I told him everything, little or big, that was on my mind. Even as an adult, I consulted him on a regular basis. He was always there, always my rock in the current. And although we both weren’t the most emotional people in the world, I loved him dearly. To cut a long story short, he simply was part of my life.

Now, I feel like this part of my life has been taken away from me. It’s like your arm being cut off. The worst is that I can’t even be angry at him because I can understand his action… This sounds so wrong, I know, but I really do. Life has been so hard for him and I won’t go into detail now concerning his personal life, but it took its tolls as well.

As grief goes, after nine months, most people don’t understand why you’re still grieving and talking about the dead person. They don’t like to hear anything that might make them sad. So, I stopped grieving openly.

But this isn’t the only reason I feel down, depressed and why I lack motivation and inspiration to write something new. There have always been times when the relationship to my mother was - let’s call it - a little stressed. Everything went downhill since my dad’s suicide.

So, for the last months, the last year, absolutely everything seemed to be too much for me. Too much work, too many problems, too many people, too much of everything. But I hope, no, I promise, that I’ll get my act together in 2018. I have to look forward to honour my dad, to honour myself. But maybe you can help me a little there, will you?

I’ll try to concentrate on the positive things now and I’ll try to channel my negative feelings into something productive: creative writing. This should be a win-win situation for all of us.

So, to conclude, on the plus side, I got married and I have a cat now. ;)

26/12/2017

Failed suicide attempt

With more and more distance I gain from my parents, I tend to ponder more about suicide each day - not about committing it! -, although I think that every once in a while, most people considered it an option. Even though it was clear they’d never actually do anything. I can’t say I’ve never been at this point in my life because I have. But I tend to believe that I belong to those who’d never really try it. Those times are long gone and usually, the only other reason for me dealing with it is to write my stories.

The simple - and bitter - reason now is that last year, my father tried to commit suicide. I won’t go into details here but with his medical knowledge, it was mere luck that he survived.

It’s still not easy to write or talk about it and that makes me wonder why. And that made me notice that others with a suicidal person in their family have those problems as well. Maybe it’s because it’s so hard to say anything at all about it.

The first emotion you feel is shock and then - even if the person isn’t dead - you live through every stage of grief. Some stay with anger and that’s very comprehensible, depending on your relation to the suicidal person.

I came to accept the whole thing as best as I can. He’s my father and although he most certainly wasn’t perfect, he was a good dad. I wish he still were but since then, everything has changed. But it wasn’t him actually committing suicide that brought the change, it was his reaction and his actions afterwards. Yes, he went to some kind of therapy and I guess emotionally he’s better now. But he’s still shutting out others, he doesn’t talk about his problems, and this is part of what brought him there in the first place.

And here is where the guilt begins - not his, but the one of his relatives, naturally including me. So, maybe this is the real reason why so many persons concerned don’t talk about it - ever. Because the foremost question that you can’t get out of your mind is “why”, which you usually attribute to yourself in one way or another. Sometimes you might be lucky and get some answers from those who tried to kill themselves. Mostly, you won’t. Those people are high like a drug addict when they’re in the act of committing suicide. Clear thoughts and clear emotions don’t exist anymore. It’s like an adrenaline induced trance, a very dangerous one. So, to cut a long story short, you most certainly won’t get any real and satisfying answers.

The question that follows is “how can I live with that”. There’s no definite answer to that either. Each person has to find his or her own way. I guess I was strong enough to accommodate myself to the situation but I can also understand those who can’t. I am also past the point of agonising in how far I contributed to his deed. Self-doubts don’t help anyone, especially not him.

I yearn for normality again and I don’t accept to remain silent anymore. I want to cry out MY emotions because suicide isn’t only about those who try to commit it but also - or maybe even more - about those who could have been left behind. I don’t want to imagine what could have been if he’d managed…

04/06/2015

An old love never dies

When I was five, after just having moved to a village where I should spent so many years of my life, my mother asked me whether I wanted to do ballet. Well, as a small child, you don’t actually understand what ballet really is (I guess most children would say no then ;)) but I knew that it had something to do with moving around. I agreed and after some introductory lessons, I decided that I liked it. Don’t get me wrong, it was no professional school, it was once a week in the neighbouring town and at the beginning, we only did little concentration exercises and learned how to be a beetle and then a blooming flower in the wind. Of course, as the years passed on, it got more complex. Real ballet exercises started to be part of the weekly schedule and when I was ten, I got my first pointe shoes. I was sooooo proud although I hated it in the beginning. For those of you who don’t know, because no one doing ballet really complains, it hurts A LOT! Beginner shoes are usually a little softer but your feet aren’t accustomed to that kind of torture. But pride, joy, and the extraordinary feeling onstage were worth it. I loved every performance and although I can’t remember the choreographies anymore, I can still remember every role. Okay, to be honest, some roles were a little stupid: Who would ever like to dance a waltz en pointe in a bright green tutu? But well, it was my teacher who made such decisions. And I really liked her. She wasn’t that typical old woman you might imagine as a ballet teacher but she was always determined and knew how to talk to us children and later teenagers. She even showed us how to do tap dance.

After many, many years in which I really came to love ballet (I even wanted to become a ballerina as a girl, but I decided that something with sports shouldn’t be my profession), my teacher had to quit. She was old and had too many injuries due to her own dancing career as a young woman. A new teacher, only a couple of years older than me, came to our school and it was a hard time to adapt to her. She had another style to teach and especially a different way of dancing. But I loved ballet and didn’t want to stop. But after several performances and her treating our group (we were the oldest one and thus the most advanced) in such a way that was simply not acceptable anymore, I started to hate what I was doing there. Her behaviour towards us affected my feelings for ballet – by hindsight, I simply should have gone to another school – but after another performance, I quit. I dumped my pointe shoes and the rest of my equipment in a faraway corner and ignored any regrets...

After four years, I missed it terribly. I started practicing at home but it’s really difficult because no one has such a huge mirror and such a big place not to hit anything when dancing with your whole body. In the meantime, another teacher had taken over the school, and after many days of pondering on the pros and cons, I decided to give it and her a try. Now, to cut a long story short (I’ve already written more than I originally intended to), I’m more than happy that I did it and I will also be onstage again this year (I would’ve never imagined that I’d miss it that much)! I attend her classes several times a week now and after such a long pause there’s a lot of work to do. I’m not that flexible anymore, my feet aren’t accustomed to pointe shoes anymore, in sport terms I’ve become really old etc. But although every limb hurts and although I have to bandage my feet after almost every ballet class, I’m so utterly glad I started doing ballet again because: AN OLD LOVE NEVER DIES!

09/06/2014

Has the zombie apocalypse already begun? ;)

No, I don’t want to write about any horror film now, and I don’t want to promote any future films concerning this topic. Neither do I want to show off as a nerd, geek, whatsoever… ;) But for a recent project for a tenth grade, I had to watch a video that refers to the film “The Matrix” (for those of you who don’t know it yet, it’s one of my favourites… ;)) and I wondered: Has it already started? And although I might sound more than polemic now, I’d say that the machines have already taken over…

Does this sound too weird for you now? Really? Well, then think about a few questions: How long would you survive without using the internet? How often have you looked at your smartphone so far today? Can you imagine just leaving every electronical device at home for just one day? No? I thought so… ;) If yes, then you’re really marvellous and exceptional! ;)

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to propagandise to throw away our technical innovations but I’d like to call your attention to the fact that we have to be careful. When I ask my pupils something outside the classroom, the first thing they do is look it up on their smartphones. This is not a bad thing as long as they still know what a proper book is… But what will happen in the following years?

That’s not even the worst… Just try a little experiment with me: Tomorrow, on your way to work, uni, school or wherever else you’ll be going, tuck away your own smartphone and look at the people surrounding you. THEN you’ll know what I mean when I used the term “zombie” here. Why can’t people talk to each other like they did ten years ago? And when they do, why do they have to look at their phones all the time then? Isn’t one dialogue partner enough? Do I really have to google the nearest shoe shop when my best friend tells me of his/her latest breakup? Well, I don’t think so… But unfortunately, most people disagree with me, although I guess that this happens rather unconsciously.

I don’t know what you make out of this, if at all; I just wanted to sensibilise you to such an omnipresent implicitness. I don’t even blame you if you’re one of those “zombies” because I was one too for quite a long time. But I woke up and now there are times when I deliberately put my smartphone aside and concentrate on the person right in front of me. And well, how would I enjoy watching people as I usually do if I just looked at my phone? ;)

12/06/2013

Normality

One of those moments when you ponder on your life, when you reflect on your past and future actions and when you think that your life surely has to be the worst of all… You don’t know those moments? Well, I do and I suppose that everyone does sometimes. In one of those moments, cursing my life, I sat by my window, listened to the rain pouring down outside and then I caught myself wishing that everything were just normal. But what is normality? Would not my life seem normal to another person? And would not what I deem normal be something completely different for that person?

I guess everyone has a certain sense of normality he or she wants to reach and live in. But can this state ever be reached? Is it more like a dream or can it really become true? Maybe normality means for some people something far beyond their reach. And if we approached that normality would we be glad or rather bored? Would we then have everything we wanted, everything we dreamed of?

And how do we know that if the now we’re already living in isn’t normality?

Questions, questions, questions, and no one to answer them. Can you answer them for yourselves? Personally, I can’t and I won’t… I just wanted to share one of my thoughts with you… Who ever said that this thought would be completed? ;)

28/12/2012

What the...?! (concerning “Fifty Shades of Grey”)

Maybe I’m a bit late with this statement but I didn’t have the time until now and I still feel the need to write this.

As you may know if you follow my “reviews”, I read E. L. James’s “Fifty Shades of Grey” trilogy a short while ago. Before and after reading I found some articles about it. Some of them made me laugh, others made me simply angry. And now I wonder if our world, our society really is that narrow-minded…?!

There’s that author who never wrote a novel before and now there’s her debut: something erotic! How dare she?! It’s not as if we lived in the year 2012, knew how sex works, were able to see naked women almost everywhere, and shared the latest porn sites with our closest friends… Maybe we’re back in the Middle Ages…? But no, wait! Erotic writings already existed back then… It’s mostly just a cliché when you think that the people at that time were absolutely prude… What do you think where that many children came from? Can’t you imagine that those people had FEELINGS, even sexually? Or are you one of those who think that the beginning of the 20^th century was black and white just because the photos of that time are? No? Then just think about it… ;)

Now there are those that scream: BDSM! Right, how could I forget…? Maybe because there’s just a tiny element of this in “Fifty Shades of Grey”…Ana gets tied up sometimes (wow, big deal) and gets spanked twice… Cliché covered, I’d say… But I want to “answer” those who wrote those articles claiming that women of the 21^st century want to give up the power they gained with emancipation. Maybe they should notice that everything is about mutual consent! If you read the novel(s) thoroughly, you’ll surely notice that fact. So, let me ask you, isn’t it a sign of power when an independent woman decides what her sexual life should look like? It’s her own free will! So if she’s “beaten into submission” it happens because she wants it to… And by the way, there are also men who are submissive… ;)

I don’t want to ignore the possibilities when people are forced to do something they don’t want to do but this can happen any time and doesn’t have to do anything with a “proper” sexual method… I condemn this a lot!

In the end, I just want to say that you should never judge a book by its cover… If you don’t know something it’s okay as long as you catch up on the topic before saying something about it…

And to conclude: Read all three volumes of “Fifty Shades” and you’ll see that this is more a love story - though rather unconventional - than anything else… If you really want to be “shocked”, read de Sade, I’d “recommend” “Justine”… ;)

Sorry that this was rather sarcastic and angry but I simply hate closed-minded people, whatever it’s about… ;)

01/10/2012

Musing about death

Did you ever think about death? No? Well, I do it regularly, almost every day. Please, don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish for it but I’m not afraid of it either. I just acknowledge its everyday presence. As a matter of fact, life is lethal. And although we shouldn’t think about it every waking minute we should still keep it in mind. So, I don’t preach an over-precautious life or fear of death in every step. We just should know that it lingers everywhere and sometimes or let’s say quite often we’re not aware of it until it’s too late…

Contrary to most people, I suppose, I’m not really afraid of dying and I know that it may happen any time. The only thing I’m really afraid of concerning death is the probable loss of a beloved person. I have to accept that up to 95% I will never be able to prevent such a death… Maybe this is why I try to find a good ending when leaving someone, even if it’s just for a short while. And I always try to remember the last words…

Who said I was sane? ;)

01/08/2012

Being an adult

As a child, adults always are those omniscient large people that can help you with their advice. You can turn to them when you have problems and don’t know how to solve them because those adults always know the right thing to do.

As a teenager, you don’t believe them anymore. What do they actually know? They have absolutely no idea how the world works because they are old dinosaurs...

And as an adult? You either like the others or you don’t but you’re almost always sure that children and teenagers know nothing of the real, hard world.

But when are you an adult? According to German law, you are of age when you turn 18: You may vote, you may get your driver’s license, but you can still be judged by a juvenile court. This seems to me like an acknowledgement that in the end, it’s still possible that you are not yet an adult...

Is it an indication that you are an adult when you have children of your own? It is possible but when I think of all those teenage mothers I can’t confirm this. Every teenage girl is biological able to conceive a child.

Work doesn’t seem to be an indication of adulthood either. Even teenagers are able to have a small job besides school… And in Germany, many 16-year-old teenagers start their apprenticeship.

What about a flat of your own? Seems to be a good sign but there are still some teenagers who can live by their own as long as their parents sign the contract.

In the end, most people agree that adulthood is a matter of mental maturity. But how can this be assessed? It’s almost impossible because everyone has a different concept of it…

In my opinion, it’s hard to say who’s an adult and who’s not, some people never reach adulthood. I suppose being an adult means having a different perspective on certain things and life as such. It’s about prioritising and seeing some things more clearly, more objectively. But on the other hand, it’s also about keeping a balance between being serious whenever you need to and keeping your inner child alive whenever it’s appropriate because adulthood doesn’t imply to be mean and unhappy all the time.

This is just my humble opinion, you may disagree… ;)

16/07/2012

15 April 1912

Do you remember that date? No? Are you sure? Yes, I know that you couldn’t have been alive back then but I can assure you that I’m not playing jokes on you…

It was the date a big tragedy in human history occurred. I’ll help you a little further: A lot of films, books etc. centre on that topic, and I suppose most of you will know one of the most famous films by James Cameron… You still don’t have a clue? Come on: Ship, iceberg…? Yes, on 15 April 1912 Titanic sank.

And a hundred years later I wonder why so many of us are so well-informed about her maiden voyage. I don’t think that Cameron deserves the credit (although his film is a masterpiece in my point of view); I rather assume that it’s the deep shock that still lingers on. Approximately 1,500 people died, among them some of the wealthiest people of that time. But what was the reason? Yes, surely, the iceberg, but I think it was human megalomania in the first place. How could anyone possibly think that a ship was unsinkable? Why haven’t there been enough boats? Back then, the people were simply overconfident and really believed that stuff. And they really believed that it was necessary to divide people into different classes. That made it really hard for the third class; they had very small chances to survive…

But what was the good thing about the sinking of Titanic? Well, we learned from it. We learned that we’re not god-like and that everything can be destroyed (even when it’s declared unsinkable). And what’s even more important: In an emergency case every passenger on a ship will have a seat in a lifeboat…

Once, mankind thought to be stronger than nature and we had to learn it the hard way: In remembrance of ca. 1,500 victims who had to die a hundred years ago…

15/04/2012