Strandkorb

It could have been Heiligendamm right after the sandglass of summer has turned cold. One of those imaginary extended moments which has both time and presence. When everything is at once simple and concrete, the coldness of the air, the grey skies across the Baltic and the self-enclosed bubble that does not gravitate in any one direction. Thinking about it now, concentration can easily slip, it can be rainy morning drives through Baltimore or Arabian deserts at night, but in this fictional moment there is just the right amount of extension in space and time.

I guess we all feel uneasy about ourselves sometimes. We wonder what others think, if we are too extrovert or introvert, if what we say is really funny or if we should better be quiet. How do we know? We are after all in a “non-neutral evaluative setting”, we ask other people to take on the task of fundamental ontological mediation, and as much as eternity can be in their eyes, they are not God and should never be asked to pretend being either.

But in silence we have a window towards the transcendental, a glimpse inside ourselves, and a space that we need to fill with presence. It takes courage to do that, to not escape.

Yet, night will fall also over Germany and aesthetics can at best soothe but not heal. We are an irreversible product of what has been; the reality of our actions as much as we want to be judged by our intentions and ambitions (at least while we are young but hopefully until the very end). God alone can redeem.