Author Archives: Stefan Hammel

The Island of Love

Posted on by
Reply

Far out at sea beyond the coast, behind the stormy cape, is a small island. It is so small that it is only shown on the most exact maps. All the same, it possesses a certain fame in informed circles. The sailors name it the “Island of Love”.

Quite a few people at some point in their lives undertake a journey there. They explore this island in detail. They thereby discover astonishing things.

Some presume, before they get to know the island better, that you will immediately get from the Coast of Being in Love to the Hill of the Homeland, and are surprised at the length of the path that leads them there, through the mysterious Valley of the Middle. Some are amazed that it is not possible for them to visit the soft slopes of the Familiar and at the same time to be at the Peak of Arousal. Others already look forward to the Pot of Passion – as the largest volcano crater of the island is called. Yet they are amazed that the ascent is quite strenuous and that it leads past the seething Chasm of Fear and the smoking Vent of Anger. Those who seek danger bathe at the Cliff of Failure at the Cape of Excessive Demands. Yet even expert swimmers have come into distress and drowned at the east-lying Ocean of Boredom.

I say this because it is often forgotten that only those who traverse the island with effort and danger find the whole beauty of this place. Some build a house on the island or put up a tent. And I have seen those who have already lived there a long time smile at the enthusiasm of the newcomers who still harbour hope of exploring the Island of Love in only one day or a week.

Mary

Posted on by
Reply

“I won’t die before Mary is in her place again!” It sounded quiet and sure from Erna’s mouth. It was autumn. The pneumatic drills hammered on the street and a sweet, biting smell of tar lay in the air. This was the house of Erna’s parents. She had lived here since she was a small child. She could still remember this place when the horses and carts used to be the mode of transport and then, later the first trams! She hung on to this place which was filled with memories.

But mostly she loved the fountain in the centre, the fountain with the statue of the Virgin Mary. The marketplace had been extensively pulled up. The workers had carried the fountain away. Experts had first carefully marked each stone so as to be able to rebuild it exactly as it was. When the new year came, the square was newly plastered. And finally the fountain with the statue of the Virgin Mary also returned to its place.

For a couple of days Erna enjoyed the new and yet long-familiar view. Then she was ready.

The Power of Furniture

Posted on by
Reply

He had stayed alone for years. He had tried everything. Now he wondered how it had been possible for him not to find a girlfriend, even though he had wished for one. He looked at the uncomfortable sofa in his living room, at the stained armchairs, and at the oversized couch table. He looked at the creaking old bed in his bedroom, with a mattress that was too small for the wooden frame. “The furniture’s not ready yet”, he said. He bought a new sofa, new armchairs, a new table, and a new bed. Three weeks later he met a woman with whom he would share many happy days.

Valves

Posted on by
Reply

Some engineers are specialized in constructing valves. They do nothing else; they just construct valves, all day long. Now someone might ask: Isn’t thisit boring, to occupy your mind with nothing but valves all day long? But actually it is a very interesting field. There are valves for air and valves for steam, and then there are some for water and some for oil. There are high- pressure valves and thermostat valves. There are regulators for monitoring the temperature of a liquid, for instance in the shower. There are valves, which activate themselves and others, which can be operated only by hand, and there are some which work both automatically and manually.

One could think that valves are a human invention, but nature also knows valves and regulators of many different kinds. We find natural valves at the entrance of the gullet and of the air tube, at the exits of the stomach and of the bladder, and at the end of the intestines. Many glands are using some kind of valve. There are the heart valves, and in the veins, there are valves to ensure that the blood flows in the right direction.

We are used to turning the heat on when we are cold, and to turning it off when we are warm. We use a control for the central heating, if we want to change the temperature of the oven. We know that we can turn off the water in the house if a pipe bursts in the winter. We are used to regulating the amount and temperature of the water in the bath tub, and to accelerating and slowing down our car. We are used to our bicycle tyres being filled with air, a kettle whistling, and a steamer cooking our meals. For all this we use valves. They serve our purposes without us having to think about them. But there is one important difference between the valves of our body and the technical ones invented by humans. If a technical valve is set in the wrong position someone must come and readjust it. The natural valves of our body and soul adjust and get set all by themselves, and they can – if necessary – independently readjust themselves at any time.

Safety Measure

Posted on by
Reply

“Good morning everyone. On behalf of the captain and the crew I would like to welcome you all on board of our flight 714 from Frankfurt to Madrid…” The friendly voice of the flight attendant introduced us to the safety regulations on the plane. As requested I put my seat upright and buckled my seat belt. I looked out of the window where the runway seemed to move backwards at a slow pace. I heard the friendly voice say “In case of loss of air pressure in the cabin, oxygen masks will fall from an opening above your seat. You can adjust the mask to fit by using the elastic strap. Press the mask tightly to your face and breathe deeply and calmly. Travellers with small children: Please put your mask on first, then that of your child.” I looked at the seat next to me where my two year old girl sat nestled into her blanket, and I wondered: “Would I follow these instructions?”

Thanks!

Posted on by
Reply

Today Thanksgiving day is celebrated in Germany…
a day for remembering the source of our food and drink, of the air we breathe and all things we possess…

They are, first of all, not the results of industrial production and our consumers’ behavior.
They are a gift that we reiceive.
These pictures were harvested by my colleague, “landscape therapist” Susanne Seelig,
who allowed me to show them to you.

They were taken in my region, near Landau, in the Palatinate.
I would like to share them with you as an expression of gratefulness and adoration to the source of all life.
 


By starting the YouTube video, personal data, such as your IP address, is transmitted to YouTube in the USA. Furthermore, cookies are set by YouTube. By clicking on the Start Video link, you agree to the data transfer and the use of cookies.

Age

Posted on by
Reply

“Now I am forty years old. I am an aged man”, he said and nodded his head. He was a man from Kenya, from the area around Mombasa. “But, I beg your pardon, you’re not old!” I replied to him. “Yes, I am old, and don’t you dare claim anything else”, he said. “In Kenya it is good to be old. The older, the better.”