Easter, or how resurrection was personally gifted to us

Forget the egg hunt and the Easter Bunny in sight.

Unfortunately, my hope is not fulfilled here.

The longed-for personal Easter gift in the form of a bunny seems to be running elsewhere.

Finally, I feel the agonizing search, the pressure to want to find something and never reaching it. Being human is really not easy, and this must be expressly mentioned on such a spot, on such a day.

Easter reloaded.

In dog translation, it means: my wish must die, although I can practically smell the roast.

On the way up the Gügel, as Ms. Kati calls the area from Giechburg up to the church, we ultimately find our cross again.

The tired man, he leans woodenly against the pale bark of the past. Has he not given everything?

Men are supposed to perform, feel, and have clairvoyance, of course. Always have everything under control and play the right notes all the time.

Then it works. That's what they say.

Do men say that here and now?

I sense that women nowadays are also not easy to understand.

A solidarity shout out to noble knights who can lay down their personal cross here and today.

And then resurrect again. I swear, I have seen it with my own eyes.

The imposing magical door to the innermost heart, or here in this place, the chapel, where burdens are handed over. Shall be. What grace!

We step inside. Well, I prefer to wait outside for now and observe people.

These smells!

Everyone has a story.

I read so much and shake it off at the same time.

After all, one does not have to carry the cross of all worlds. Remember that, dear people!

Finally, it continues.

I joyfully dig in an old secret mice tunnel while Ms. Kati delightfully plucks some delicious wild garlic leaves for dinner.

Of course only for home use. Nature is generous when everyone serves themselves mindfully; surely everything would remain intact.

But that’s how human princes are. Unconsciousness does not start on the ground.

I admit. Even dogs often fall into megalomania. I, after the third digging hole in a row.

On the path of enlightenment, a dignified nun figure whispers to us, winking, to stand under her mistletoe.

And whoever wishes may seek protection under her mantle of kindness.

This world also needs a pause and gathering.

We thank her, leave a small cheese donation and petition at her feet, and continue along the path to our personal resurrection.

'Come! Be brave! Let yourselves be renewed.

From your realm of shadows, step over the bridge of resurrection!'

Burgfried sighs.

Finally, someone would listen.

Everyone tramples thoughtlessly by every day. Few feel the power of the place.

The renewal. The resurrection.

The miracle of Easter.

In everyday reality. Lived and integrated.

We nod at him reverently and spot the owl. Its wisdom soon shows us on the wall of the new perspective. Expanding the horizon over the old edge.

'Whoever has made it this far will soon see the Easter light.

Hope, faith, joy.

Also a conscious decision for truth and a real life instead of playing functions and roles in the whirlpool of human vanity.'

True words that touch the soul.

Even I forget my nose for a while.

Whoever boldly walks through the gate into the tower perceives the sky at the same time. The light. It breaks through the gray of the crucifixion. And opens up new paths, horizons, life.

Hallelujah! We are saved.

Thanks to everyone here who enabled us the miracle of this afternoon.

Amen.

Of course, we lit a candle in the chapel. And not only Ms. Kati is looking forward to the wild garlic meal.

Because I secretly snagged a blessed little rootstock at the Gügel.

Don't tell anyone. Even dogs celebrate resurrection. Just differently.

See you soon at the next adventure!

Your Gretl