Out of the Bubble

 

New Year, New Ground

Here it is — the new year is well underway. It arrived without hesitation and keeps moving, carrying everything with it.

Yes, I made it back home — very far west — back to James, and back to all of you, dear friends and loyal companions. And at the same time, I had to leave behind the loves on the other side of this fragile, beloved planet.

The long flights, which once felt like pure agony, have somehow turned into a kind of in-between, meditative free space for me. There’s a song by Reinhard Mey that plays quietly in my head during those hours above the ocean:

Above the clouds
Freedom must surely be boundless.
All fears, all worries,
So they say,
Remain hidden behind.
And then what seems so big and important to us
Suddenly becomes trivial and small.

I hum it to myself up there, and it fills me with a sense of perspective that feels larger than current events.

When I arrived home on Christmas Eve, I found James and Coby calm, collected — almost so peaceful that my presence felt slightly disruptive. Just a tiny bit. For a moment, I wondered if I should have stayed away a little longer.

It was a quiet bubble of focus and care, in contrast to the chaos unfolding in the world beyond it.

In Germany, Christmas Eve is when gifts are exchanged, so I unpacked a few small treasures from my suitcase — mostly chocolate in the form of Mozartkugeln, marzipan, and the like. Sweetness, in every sense.

The next morning, we went out for breakfast at the Barefoot Café in Fairfax — the first time in years that any of us had done something like that. Eggs Benedict turned out to be exactly the right nourishment for both stomach and soul, shared with two of my favorite people.

James has been deeply loved — and continues to be — surrounded by this whole caboodle of us who show up for him in so many ways. Right now, he is stable, and that alone feels like something to hold with gratitude to all who contributed.

A Light for the New Year – Peace in the Great and in the Small

As we stand at the threshold of the new year, we inevitably look back. The past year has demanded much of us as a global community. World events have often left us speechless and have painfully reminded us how fragile the foundation is upon which our shared life rests.

The shadows of world history often reach all the way into our own living rooms.

For when peace on a grand scale begins to falter, peace in the small, personal sphere becomes all the more precious.

My deepest wish for the new year is therefore peace — not as an abstract concept, but as a lived reality.

May you find peace within, even when harsh winds blow outside.
May harmony and understanding prevail in your home and among your loved ones — a safe harbor in turbulent times.

And let us carry the shared hope that this peace, which we nurture in small ways, will ripple outward.
That it will shape how we meet one another, build bridges instead of deepening divides, and thus contribute to a more peaceful coexistence in our society.

Here’s to a year of reflection, compassion, and the courage to hope.

I did not write these words myself. I received them in a letter from a  friend in Germany — and she didn’t write them either. But every sentence reflects exactly how I feel right now, so I’m sharing them here with you, because they speak a deep truth for me.

And that is all I have to say for now.

With gratitude, always. 💛

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