Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:


We never noticed when it started, and now it has become the rule. When our baby stands or stakes a step, he holds something in his hand; always (a wooden egg, a finger puppet, the screw top of a water bottle). That is easy to interpret, we think, because it’s obvious. The baby is holding on to something that he himself is holding. This ability has survived in us (you, me) to a much greater degree than we thought at first. Our surprise dissolves in the observation of our own proximity to objects: how often we hold something in our hand without noticing, how often we reach for things while reading, thinking, speaking, how often we forget what is in our hand. So finally, we think, we have (finally) found something in which we are very similar, perhaps even equal, to our baby, our master. But sooner than we would like, we recognize our error. Our holding on is insecurity, our baby’s holding on is security. Somewhat desperately we look over to him, he sees our plight and shows us what he is holding. Shows it to us briefly, as though to concede the object to us, and instantly we feel our urge to reach for it, but he has already lowered his arm. As if by doing that he had very briefly shown, told, revealed to us: that’s it, just that!




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