“Alles ist lebendig,” she says to me.
Everything is alive.
We are talking.
We are walking in the snow, perhaps.
Perhaps I am holding her little hand in my big hand, carefully, to avoid pulling her mitten right off, as sometimes happens.
Everything is alive. People are alive. Animals are alive.
This is too obvious for her to even comment on.
Rocks and air are alive. Water is alive.
She agrees.
All this snow. Alive.
Yep.
Is a water crystal alive or is the snowball alive?
Both.
The coffee cup is alive, and when dashed to the floor in anger and exasperation, the shards are all alive.
Every one of them, living shards.
Alles ist lebendig.
Interesting idea, not my particular philosophy…
I sometimes lean towards the old theory that there is no gravity, the world sucks (I had this T-Shirt in high school, now my son in High School)…
you need to borrow our sesame street tapes, and then it would be clear:
“they breathe and eat and grow
and that is how you know
that they’re alive”
the coffee cup is not alive, because no breathing, eating, growing. the person with the hand that threw it, though, bears watching.
Jesus Christ, you atheists.
Quite. How very pedantic the readership today!
Of course everything is alive, animated in myriad forms by the universal breath and interconnected.
PS: I thought this was a beautiful entry, by the way.
Sehr sch
Happy New Year
she’s the best cello teacher you ever had.