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Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:

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

With the baby at our side, the dream of living (of being alive) has become clearer and at the same time more real. It is a dream (not dreamlike) that has now, over the past days, weeks, months, evolved, as it were, into its true splendor (as if previously we had only dreamed in seclusion)—evolved, that is, into its own awakening. It is not as if we (you, I) were dreaming, for otherwise, how could we tell anyone about this dream? We are dreaming, this is new, even when we are not dreaming. We are dreaming, but we (you, I) are not the only ones who find ourselves in this dream. Somebody led us into it, led us out from our sleep. For this dream does not need sleep in order to begin, indeed it needs nothing less than sleep and sleepers. (This is surely due to the fact that our baby keeps us awake, that he constantly pushes us into awakeness; this small, adamant creature does not tolerate sleep. Strictly speaking, we haven’t slept for nearly a year, and even while sleeping, we are awake. Perhaps some day we will sleep again, we think, gazing at our baby, the only being we know that is deeply, truly, fast asleep.)

 

 

 

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