Zen master Reding invites you twice a year to a meditation in Basel at the Friedhof am Hörnli.

Meditation in Basel

His life was one of earnest, persevering trekking to a high mountain, on which she stood, and when he finally found her goal, she bowed smiling to someone else! Now he quietly walks back the long way. Hope is no longer allowed to inspire his steps, and behind him, on those blue hills, his soul's happiness fades and fades.

If love has touched you, silent among noisy people, you walk in a golden cloud, safely guided by God. Just as if lost, you let your eyes wander around, grant others their joys, only care for one desire. Shyly enraptured in yourself, you would like to deny in vain that now the crown of life, radiant, adorns your forehead.

The Mind wanders

I despised a fixed seat, drove unsteadily through the infirmary, there I found a commendable quarters with special foresight. But when I imagine I'm sitting gently in my quiet lap, a thunderstorm breaks out, I have to go hiking again. Every year another plant grows in the garden than before. Life would be a fool's dance if it weren't so serious.

Where small rocks, small spruce trees stand against the open sky, you can come, you can see. How we, drunk with poems, wander along narrow, childlike paths. Aren't we the untouched children before everyone else? Not the boys and the girls, those others? Are they true in their games, those others, those many? Wanderer, only your footprints are the way, and nothing more. Wanderer, there is no such thing as a path, it is created by walking it.

Only when walking does the path emerge and if you look back, you see the path that you will never tread again.