Bath Dryhome, Speyer and Nuremberg

Only one week ago Mimas 'Sea Cow', her VW Transporter, had to bring all her toys, candles and little houses for tea lights from the Christmas Market to her garage. The Sea Cow had to carry her trailer with her market hut and her crib, the sledges and everything four week Christmas Market.

These Christmas weeks are nothing but work, great effort and tension for us both. Afterwards we start to relax.

What a joy it is, to sit comfortable in a warm room at my desktop! What a joy it is, to sit in front of my computers and to connect with friends worldwide! What a joy it is, to surf around the world, to dive into the news, into politics, into culture and fantasies: mystery! What a joy, to drive relaxed in a warm car in our holydays!

Our Munich friend Michael Kabir Sangit Jivano writes right now in Sarlos second place, a group of 'Oshoism'. Sarlo calls this place; 'LivingOsho'. Michael judgments are significant about Sarlo:

Gaggle, Sun Dec 31, 2006 12:08 pm, Msg: #11484 of 11650

You like to play the role of a moderator, don't you?
But there is too much judging and correcting others in
your moderation for my taste. Like you did with this post.

I have observed often, that with such posts you try to
steer away from too emotionally loaded topics and try
to relativate standpoints which don't fit into the "usual"
Sannyas point of view (which is often just a limited vision).

As this influence has already sipped deeply into the communication
style of this group and into the selection process of it's members,
it may look like natural for you and as if nobody is copying.

Yet I say: the whole group is mirroring Sarlo, and this is
stronger than it was some years ago.

The result is some sort of "peacefullness", "silence" and
superficiality which comes from unexpressed conflicts and/or
from a selection-process which evolves into a spiritual

Here in our Free Speech group n0body moderates. n0by group is connected with n0by web domain. Most of my letters bring pictures from our little life. My life is burdened now with the sickness of my beloved daughter Esther and with caring for my Old mixed up Mom.

With three beloved women we have celebrated a happy New Year party. These three women gave and give her love and reach, teach and enrich my heart: Ute, Monika and now Mimamai, my harbour, my shelter, almost like my wife.

With three beloved women we have celebrated a happy New Year party.

My heart is burdened with heavy sorrows, because my daughter has passed her examination but she is sick, It is hard to confess the cruel diagnosis: cancer.

My 86 years old Mom lives together with her 10 years older friend from her school days in Danzig. And this 96 years old woman Ilona has nothing but complains about my younger brother Ulrich, who cared for my Mom since fathers brain stroke 1995. 

Since my old Mom lives in Bad Duerrheim (Bath Dry Home) together with her friend Ilona, this old woman breeds a harsh controversity against my younger brother and maybe me too. 

This 96 years old lady claims continously, that my brother had stolen money of my old mother. Now mother wants me, to organize her affairs. This is a difficult legal way, I try now to arrange together with my honest and caring younger brother.

It's crazy, it's all so crazy! There is no way to argue with the 96 years old lady Ilona. My old Mom can't understand these quarrels, nobody can understand these quarrels. Old Mother, Mimamai and I, we want peace, peace and peace again.

My daughter with seven years of successful studies in laws is tired too only to hear about the quarrels of these old ladies. My woman Mimamai carries with me all sorrows about the health of Esther and mothers mixed up mind with absolute useless and senseless money quarrels.

Friends of the Free Speech vision need to be able to stand provocations, no matter how stupid or silly people provoke each other. Pesting provocations or false flatteries are nothing compared with the lessons of life!

For me the last lesson of life is how to die. Isn't there not something like a natural destiny in all this love and caring of my female teachers, of my Old Mom, of Mimamai, of Ute, of Monika, even of my daughter Esther to give birth and life to the next generation?

Nevertheless I feel the last lesson of life as lesson to lose, as art to die.

Mom lives in Bath Dry Home together with her friend Ilona

Don't promise priests only eternal life or nirvana now or elevating enlightenment? Aren't all promises lies? As honest as possible I share my experience. I have experienced and still have to experience these lessons to lose. All what is gained will be gone one day.

Are not most followers of Gurus or devotes of religious concepts getting tired and exhausted after 10, 20, 30 years of search for the promised paradise? Are these seekers and searchers finally frustrated? Why turn millions of those pious people so easy into fanatics, into fundamentalists. into Talibans?

There is not much entertainment in full moon nights in Mimas Sea Cow. How long can you listen to your heart beat? How long can you watch your breath going in, going out? How long can you enjoy this slow silent symphony, when snow falls softly on the plastic roof?

In these night hours my thoughts wander around and try to feels these mysteries around clearer.

People like Anne7femine or our friend from Copenhagen have friendly accepted my invitation tasted a short time our adventure of 'Free Speech'. Both left after the first play rounds in the ring. 

Most come and leave soon without comment, the more courageous ones comment and defend. I ask myself: what?

In free hours I read, what these lost friends share with the ones, they like better. But I leave them alone.

I guess, my invitations to share in our group will stop. I guess, my messages in other groups will stop too. As little light onto myself it's enough to see my feet on my narrow, muddy path. At one point everybody has to pass the last bridge all alone. 

Aren't thoughts and memories shared first with oneself? More and more I isolate myself in my most important issues: care for my young daughter and care for my old Mother. 

I spend my days and nights with my Mimamai on this winter journey in our luxurious country, luxurious for the rich ones.

The luxury in Mima's Sea Cow, this poor isolated VW Transporter with gas heater, is to travel. It's a bit adventurous and hard, to open the back door of the car in falling snow in the night to change the gas bottle for the heater. But we are a couple, that manages such things quite relaxed.

Around 13 degrees Celsius are enough, to sleep comfortable. When I write in my night I warm up my place on the bed under the little lamp. Mima mostly sleeps some hours longer.

Thoughts connect with my daughter, my Mother, my brother, rare friends. I feel more and more like an eremite. I simply can't care anymore for our 'Free Speech' vision, even everyone is welcome to have the right to be right. Or has everyone ever thought only for an instant to be wrong?

not much entertainment in Mimas Sea Cow

This life all alone and with few diamond friends is an abundance of beauty! Who wants to spoil such ecstasy by false friends for politics pleasure?

Thomas from Hamburg writes in private about a new job at New Year night. In me is solid silence, because no answer came. Why should I molest the ones with private mails, who have left our Free Speech public vision?

Thomas, son of dentist, who once was rich, has now to pay care for his teeth, has to pay his rent, has to pay his car, food, web connection. In e-chats it's hard to find material support, where everybody is rich in mental word flooding advice. Or do you read and need words for entertainment?

Hopefully lost friends in the Free Speech jungle know meanwhile, where to read and where to share the things they are longing for. 

Still I make myself available as Cyber Eremite with real life experiences. What do I need more? 

Nothing, I guess, and I try to sleep in this first. frosty night in 2007 in Mimas Sea Cow under a full growing cold yellow moon. 

Thomas has now to pay care for his teeth

We leave the quarrelling old ladies in Bath Dryhome and continue our journey. Next stop is Speyer at the river Rhine. Mima has lived in Speyer from 1964 till 1975. So we go back to her roots. It's wonderful, when Mima is happy! It's the best, to fulfil her little, lovely wishes.

We visit Mima's home from her childhood. Her mother and father had to bring up Mima with her older sister and two older brothers. Something must have been much better than in our family, I guess. Is this the reason, Mimamai is such a balanced, mostly happy person?

We visit Mima's home from her childhood.

Our journey ends Saturday in Nuremberg. 
Ingo, my daughter Esther, Mima and I 
enjoy a long bike tour - 
happy hours together from breakfast
till afternoon.