Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:

http://www.hanser-literaturverlage.de/verlage/hanser-box

A beautiful day, I notice at its end, an unmanufactured, unexaggerated day. It neither dragged nor hurried as it passed, we did not feel its beginning, its standing still, its vanishing. This day did not pass at all and did not stay either, it did not become and was not. On this day the baby’s true mastery shows itself. It is as if we (you, I) were at his side (without floating, without losing our footing, without clinging, without fear) like experience itself (but what is that supposed to be? we immediately ask, and immediately drop the question). It’s not that we can’t remember this day, on the contrary, we remember this day very precisely, completely, without residue and excess, we follow our baby into this noble form of memory, which wants to find no objection to the beauty of the day that has passed and consists entirely in agreement (and a little euphoria, a little more enthusiasm, and a great deal of love).