Raubtierangriff heute Morgen unterwegs zum Bäcker

I was attacked by a predator this morning on my way to the bakery

#HierUndJetzt #SchöneMomente #HereAndNow #BeautifulMoments

Echo Canyon

The trail descended into a narrow gorge where red rock walls rose sheer on both sides, smooth and sculpted by ancient water. The path followed a dry streambed, sand and smooth stones underfoot, and the walls leaned inward, creating a roof of sky that seemed impossibly distant. Sound behaved strangely here – my footsteps echoed and re-echoed, bouncing between the walls until they became something other than footsteps, a rhythm that seemed to come from the canyon itself. I stopped walking...

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When I was 16, I wrote a poem that included the line, "Everything that is born begins to die." Had I read philosophy? No, it was quantum physics and thermodynamics. Over the years, as an adult, I encountered Zen and philosophy.
Understanding the inexorability of life, the arrow of time, and watching my elders grow old, I realized that death doesn't arrive suddenly one day; rather, it begins the moment we are born, and that death is the same process as life. My father-in-law used to say at the end of the day, "one more day, more or less" (he was quite the philosopher, that old man).
So why run if fate is decided, why fight if we will lose anyway, why calculate losses and gains if, as Schopenhauer said, life is a business that doesn't cover its costs.
Everything we do, the mere fact of being alive, generates entropy, inexorably pushing the arrow of time forward.
And entropy, physicists tell us, leads to the disintegration of all cosmic structures, to the death of the universe. And that includes me, you, the planet, everything.
Today is all I have; this present moment is the only life I have.

#zen #actuallyautistic #philosophy #physics #hereandNow #life
#blackcat

Fang Song: The Taoist Art of Deep Relaxation in Motion

Fang Song (放鬆), often translated simply as “relaxation,” represents one of the most fundamental yet frequently misunderstood principles in Tai Chi Chuan, qigong, and all Nei Jia (internal martial arts) practices. The concept describes a state of relaxed openness that differs fundamentally from Western notions of either muscular tension or limp collapse, instead cultivating what practitioners call “relaxed structure” or “dynamic relaxation” where the body rema...

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The Beekeeper’s Dance

The apiary sat at the edge of an orchard, twenty white boxes arranged in neat rows among blooming apple trees. I’d come looking for honey but found something more interesting – a beekeeper working without gloves, veil, or any protection, her movements slow and deliberate as she lifted frames heavy with bees. She wore ordinary clothes, her grey hair pulled back in a braid, and the bees crawled over her hands, her arms, her shoul...

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The Egg Painter

I found the workshop by accident, following the sound of singing through a village I was passing through. The voice led me to a small studio with windows overlooking a garden just coming into bloom. Inside, an elderly woman sat at a table covered with eggs in various stages of decoration, her hand steady as she applied intricate patterns with a tool that looked like a tiny pen. Finished eggs hung on a drying rack...

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Pushing Hands (Tui Shou): The Art of Yielding and Listening Energy

Pushing Hands, known in Chinese as Tui Shou (推手), represents the essential bridge between solo Tai Chi form practice and practical martial application, serving as the primary method for developing sensitivity, responsiveness, and the subtle internal energies that distinguish internal martial arts from external styles. Developed in the 16th century from self-defense techniques that improved skills useful in close-quarter fighti...

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去衣入林、鳥聲是經。

Shedding clothes, entering the forest, birdsong is scripture.

#Naked #ZenBuddhism #HereAndNow #Reality #Truth #Nude #NoClothes #ClothesFreeLiving #Liberation #Awareness #Naturism

The River’s Choice

I followed the hiking trail along the ridge until it descended to where a river split around a wooded island. The water moved with spring energy, swollen from snowmelt, its surface catching the afternoon light in shifting patterns. At the split, I stopped to watch how the current divided – some water peeling left, some right, both flows wrapping around the island before rejoining downstream. There was no hesitation in the division, no ...

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Wild Greens

The woman at the farmer’s market had a small table covered with bunches of leaves and plants I didn’t recognize. While other vendors sold early greenhouse produce – lettuce and herbs in neat bundles – her offerings looked wild and slightly chaotic. Dark serrated leaves, fuzzy stalks, delicate shoots with unfamiliar shapes. A handwritten sign read “Foraged Greens – Ask Me Anything.” She stood behind the table in worn overalls, hair in grey braids, boots caked with mud, looking more like she’d just walked out of the forest than set up at a market. ...

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