What comes with you, when you go?

Many eyes are fixed on the current news, and some ears no longer want to listen. A new world order, a new peace, a — new normality? Wait, did I get the crisis wrong? No, I heard the term again recently. Then as now, this short phrase feels like a threat to me. I have the impression it affects others that way too.

Some fall into panic, others withdraw from the media, the next take a firm position — and even thoughtful characters like me begin to realize that no one is purely an observer in all of it. Something is already changing. I want to understand this development as an opportunity.

When everyday life sometimes takes over and you think, “I have to do this, then I have to do that…” — until you finally go to bed early because you have to wake up early — thoughts of freedom or justice, and even compassion for others, sometimes fall by the wayside. But do you feel this restlessness too? I feel a restlessness that pushes through the having to. It makes me ask: “Do I actually have any idea what ‘having to’ really means?”

In this upheaval, some things can and will change. But I believe you don’t leave an order — not even in thought — without taking something with you.

Sometimes we all ask ourselves: Who am I really? What is important to me? How do I want to relate to this and that? We don’t only find ourselves; we become ourselves. And we all know upheavals — at least on a small scale. These are the moments in which we are tested.

…and? Which values, which structures, which concepts, which character traits scream from your innermost self that they are inseparably linked to you? What comes with you when you go?

Among other things, I burn for art. And these days I find myself once again asking the question: What about “system-irrelevant” art? What is art beyond the poor artist who relies on tax money, grants, and competitions? (And is no longer allowed to earn a little extra on the side because the system generally needs reform — yes — but in the first step depriving art of its livelihood sends a message that reminds me of “you should’ve learned something proper.”)

What has art ever given you? It has made me marvel, cry, laugh, dance, and think. It has made me feel with others. Art is life! Art is inherent to humanity. Art belongs to being human — whether as someone who gives people art (and then has to go on tour to pay bills) or as someone who streams art.

Even if, admittedly, I play guitar quite terribly, my e-piano can only manage a bit of tinkling, and singing… you may have heard me — there’s a pitch that’s okay, but honestly, I don’t flatter myself about my singing. My medium is writing. But I don’t have to be a great, well-known artist to love art. I don’t even have to be an internationally recognized poet to appreciate poetry. Not even to let it flow! Yesterday, in my diary, I read a sentence from 2024 that left me speechless:

The sun remains with me.

The sentence opens a space for me in which I can simply be, pause, and feel. What remains as long as I am? What can no one take from me?

Current History calls for reflection about oneself. Being human includes more than reason. If you hear this call too, then that sentence from my diary is my gift. Unwrap it if and when you feel like it.

The nice thing about sentences is that you can unwrap them more than once — and, amusingly, there’s always something different inside.

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